Suddenly a blur of golden-brown raced past him.
“What the hell?” Dean had no idea how Daisy had managed to roll down the window enough to squeeze out, but she was making a beeline for the water’s edge.
And for the unsuspecting lady.
“Daisy!” Oh, man, this had trouble written all over it. “Daisy, get back here!”
His dog wasn’t listening. Nope, she headed straight for the water nymph.
The woman had spun around when he yelled. Blond waves flowed over her shoulders and dark sunglasses shaded her eyes. Her luscious mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of him and his dog.
She stumbled back a few steps the moment Daisy charged in, splashing her way right to the woman before suddenly halting in front of her.
And damn if Daisy’s tail didn’t start wagging just above the waterline.
The woman started to smile and then leaned down, one hand outstretched toward his pet. A typical reaction, but Daisy wasn’t a typical dog.
Dean called out, “Stop! Don’t touch her.”
The nymph froze in place for a moment before slowly straightening, her free hand retreating to her chest. She was probably unaware she still held the ends of her skirt hiked up way past her knees with the other.
She stared at him—at least Dean thought she did behind those dark sunglasses—before she looked down at Daisy. Then she directed her gaze back to him, her chin lifting a bit. “I was only going to say hello.”
Her voice was as smooth and silky as the finest Chardonnay. Dean stopped when his boots hit the water’s edge, sinking a bit into the soft earth. “That’s probably not a good idea. She can be...unpredictable. Daisy, come here, girl.”
Daisy ignored him, keeping her gaze on the blonde, who glanced at the dog again before looking at Dean. “Does she bite?”
She never had, but he hated to think there might be a first time.
“No. I don’t think so.” He’d found Daisy in the desert during his last tour in the Middle East. The thirty-pound, two-foot-tall mutt resembled a Portuguese Podengo. Granted, she wasn’t growling and her wirehaired fur wasn’t bristling, but who knew what went on in a female’s mind—canine or human.
The woman took another step backward. “Well, she’s the one who came to me. Up until a moment ago I was enjoying a few minutes of blessed solitude.”
Hmm, a hint of snobbishness. “Yeah, well, she can be somewhat unfriendly at times.”
“The wagging tail notwithstanding, of course.”
“That’s not the end I’m worried about. Daisy! Come!”
Instead of obeying, his dog moved a couple of steps closer to the blonde, who regarded him with a slight tilt of her head. “Does she always listen so well?”
“She usually listens.” Whenever it worked to her advantage. “Then again, she’s got a mind of her own. Typical woman.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“That my dog is an independent thinker. More independent than I realized.”
The woman’s features softened as she looked at his dog. “Well, I can certainly respect that in any female. Even if she’s invading my personal space.”
He’d like to invade—
Dean cut off that thought before it could go any further. “I spotted your sweet ride from the road and stopped to see if you were in trouble.” He jerked a thumb at the convertible behind him. “You’re obviously not from around here. Are you having any problems?”
“Other than being accosted by a strange man and his dog? No.”
“I was just trying to be nice.”
“Thank you, but we’re fine. I’d appreciate it if you’d go now.”
We? He did a quick survey of the area and saw there was no one else around. Still, she’d made her feelings clear enough, so he should probably head out. Then again, there was something about her. Why did he get the feeling he might know—
“Hey! Cut it out!” The cultured air surrounding the lady disappeared the moment Daisy licked her bare leg, causing her to laugh. “That tickles!”
The husky sound and the smile on her lips sent a wave of pure desire straight through Dean; suddenly, getting his dog to listen was the last thing he cared about. For starters, he’d be happy if the woman would remove her sunglasses so he could see what color her eyes were.
“Stop that now.” She scooted to one side, almost losing her footing in the sandy bottom of the river, but Daisy stayed right with her, a little pink tongue darting out again and again to lick at the water clinging to those gorgeous legs. “No more kisses, Miss Daisy. You need to behave.”
Dumbfounded, Dean braced his hands on his hips and stared at his dog. What in the hell was going on?
Daisy was acting like a besotted fool. “Boy, I can honestly say I’ve never seen her act this way before.”
The woman moved again, but the dog shadowed her every step. “Is that so?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he liked this new side to his best friend. “Yeah, that’s so.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, could you try calling her again?”
“I’ll give it a shot.” Dean dropped his arms and crouched to the ground, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Come on, Daisy, come here.”
She didn’t even spare him a glance. Nope, his dog wasn’t the least bit interested in listening to him.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” The woman headed his way and his breath caught in his throat as he watched her walk, Daisy by her side. “As entertaining as this has been, it’s time for you, Miss Daisy, to go back to your owner.”
Daisy did start toward him, but then she turned back and let out a little yip as if she was disagreeing with her new friend, who laughed again. And this time, before Dean could get out another warning, she bent over and gently scratched behind the dog’s ears.
Dean didn’t know where to look first.
The enticing view of lace-covered curves thanks to the woman’s gapping neckline or Daisy, who immediately plopped her butt in the shallow water and raised her snout, the picture of pure contentment.
He was unable to resist sneaking a second glance at the woman’s sweet curves, before deciding to make a grab for his dog while she was distracted. Seconds later, he had Daisy in his arms, but when he straightened, the stranger did, too, and all it took was a bump of his shoulder against hers and down she went with a splash.
Ah, damn.
Trying to catch herself with her arms, she failed and fell backward, a soft cry falling from her lips. The water wasn’t very deep, but she landed firmly on her backside, ending up waist-deep in the swift current. The sunglasses stayed in place and she managed to keep her face out of the water, but the rest of her—including most of her silky blond hair—was all wet.
“Whoa, sorry about that.” Dean transferred Daisy into one hand and held her close to his chest, her wet fur drenching his shirt. With his other hand, he immediately reached for the woman. “Here, let me help.”
“No!” Sputtering, she waved him away while trying to sit up. “No, thank you, I’m fine.”
“Actually, what you are is soaking wet. Please, let me help you stand up.”
She refused his hand again and somehow got to her feet. Her clothes now clung to her body, and thanks to the transparency of the wet material, every perfect inch of her, including her lacy bra and panties, were visible.
“Oh, I’m a mess!”
Dean wanted to argue that fact, but he doubted she’d be happy with him.
“I can’t believe this!” she continued. “Look at me!”
He did his best to do just the opposite, but if something so beautiful was right in front of a man—
A low growl filled the air. Surprised, he looked down and found Daisy staring...at him. “Did y
ou just growl at me, young lady?”
Clearly unhappy that he’d interrupted her fun, Daisy answered with another rumble that caused her entire body to vibrate.
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, but I think she’s a bit upset I came between the two of you,” Dean said and then offered another smile. “And that I caused your tumble into the water. I really am sorry.”
“Apology accepted, but if you don’t mind...”
She left her sentence unfinished as she brushed past him. He turned to watch her retrieve a pair of high-heeled shoes and then head for her car.
Yep, the view was just as nice from this angle.
Dean followed, reaching her just as she leaned into the backseat of her convertible, grabbed a jacket and wiped at her face and arms. A quick glance into her side-view mirror had her clutching the jacket to her chest as she spun around.
“My clothes— The water—” she sputtered. “I look— You can see every—” She stomped her foot. “You just stood there!”
Daisy growled again as if confirming the lady’s accusations. Not that Dean needed reminding. He was sure he would be dreaming about his run-in with this modern Aphrodite later tonight in the lonely confines of his bed. “Ah, look, is there anything I can do—”
“You can leave.” Her upper-crust nature returned and her voice cooled as she shivered. “Now.”
“I don’t think I should leave you here alone—”
“I’m not alone. Snake!”
Snake? He glanced around, startled, but saw nothing on the ground nearby. When she called out again, he realized she wasn’t talking about an actual reptile, but summoning someone.
What the hell? A bodyguard?
She certainly looked like the type who could afford paid protection, but where had the guy been for the past twenty minutes or so? Before Dean could ask, a tiny ball of fur raced out from the bushes, its yappy bark filling the air. The dog—if one could call it that—went straight to the lady and got between her and Dean, the annoying barking growing louder.
Daisy tensed, and Dean tightened his grip on her, but other than gazing intently at the little creature, his dog remained surprisingly silent.
“What is that?” he finally asked. “And does it have an off switch?”
“Hush, Snake. It’s okay.”
But still the little thing yipped away. Where had this pint-size terror been the whole time he’d been talking to her?
“What’s he doing?” Dean asked. “Trying to act as tough as his name?”
“Actually, those are his initials. S. N. A. K. E. His full name is Sebastian Niles— Oh, Snake, hush!”
Dean couldn’t stop himself from grinning at this sorry excuse for man’s—or woman’s—best friend. “Well, I see you have as much control of your pet as I do over mine— Hey!”
The dog had finally shut up, but only so it could focus on lifting one of its miniature back legs and peeing right on Dean’s cowboy boot!
“Oh, my!” The feminine laughter started again before she suppressed it by pressing her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, I am sorry. Snake, come here.”
The little rat trotted over and plopped down at its owner’s feet.
“I do apologize,” she repeated, the corners of those full lips turned upward. “Snake has never done anything like that before.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Dean gave his foot a quick shake. The bottom edge of his pant leg was now as damp as his shirt.
“Well, as you can see, I am very well guarded, so...”
“Okay, you win. We’ll leave.” He turned and headed for his truck. Tucking a finger beneath Daisy’s chin, he made her look at him. “You know, if you just would’ve stayed in the truck...”
Opening the passenger door, he started to place Daisy inside, but held on to her instead and raised the window. Then he closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He made sure to hit the window lock before he released his dog into the passenger seat.
Sure enough, Daisy put her paw on the button.
“Oh, no, you’ve caused enough trouble for today.” Dean scolded as he put the vehicle into gear and drove away, pausing to take a quick glance at the lady in his rearview mirror. “And thanks to you, I never even got her name.”
Copyright © 2014 by Christyne Butilier
ISBN-13: 9781460333259
FORTUNE’S PRINCE
Copyright © 2014 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Allison Leigh for her contribution to the Fortunes of Texas: Welcome to Horseback Hollow continuity.
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Fortune's Prince Page 20