Man's Best Friend (10 page)

"I'll have Milt call her," Rand said. "You confirm Cullen Macy's arrival time tomorrow. And see if you can crunch the numbers on the German offer into something that makes sense for us."

"Sense or money?"

"Both."

"Done. I'll see you around eight tonight." Rand picked up the phone to call Milt, and punched in Charlotte's number instead.

"Charlotte, get me the number for the Dawg's Inn Kennel, will you? No, don't put me through, just give me the number."

He stared at it for a full five minutes.

Chapter 7

Tessa shook hands with Miriam and John Carter and smiled, while Marie Linden looked on worriedly. "It was nice meeting you, Miriam—" she glanced at the tall thin man beside her, "—and you, John. I'll look forward to seeing you again in May when you take over the kennel." Which was a lie, because Tessa hoped she'd never set eyes on the pair again. They reminded her of winter trees, all bony and bleak.

Marie looked flustered. "You'll see them a bit before that. John and Miriam are planning to spend a couple of weeks here before they take over the kennel. You know, look around, see what they want to change?"

Something inside Tessa crumpled. She guessed it was the last of her spirit. While she digested this news and tried not to look too dismayed, John started to mutter.

Tessa knew she'd have to pay attention to make any sense at all of his clipped, fractured speech.

"Not sure of needing you, too long, Miss Darwin. After that is. When Mir and I take over, I mean. A month maybe. Cash flow. That kind of thing. Not much to learn. We'll be two weeks here before the signing."

"I see," Tessa mumbled, stealing a glance at Marie who winced as if the glance were a slap. Disappointed and disheartened, Tessa put on another fake smile. At least these people loved the dogs. That was something.

"On our way then. Tour was good. Thanks."

When the door closed behind the Carters, the only sound in the office was three homesick yelps from the kennel below.

"Tessa, are you okay?" Marie asked.

"Fine," she lied. "Perfectly fine."

I've just learned I'll be out of a job sooner rather than later—with Annie's college fund running short.

And if that weren't enough, she was in major emotional meltdown over a man who refused to recognize she existed.

Of course I'm, fine. Why wouldn't I be fine?

But, damn it, she would be fine. She'd make sure of it. All she had to do was quit feeling sorry for herself, something that did nothing for the state of her mental health.
 

Just when it looked as though Marie was going to say more, the phone rang. Bless it. Because Tessa couldn't think of one more word to say.

She wished her feelings for Rand weren't so wildly confusing. If she didn't need the puppy training job so badly, she'd quit and get out of the man's hair. Trouble was when it came to Rand's shiny dark hair, what she longed to do was curl her fingers in it. Even the thought of it made her knees weak.

"It's for you, Tessa," Marie said.

When Tessa took the phone, Marie mouthed a "see you" and left.

"Tessa Darwin, can I help you?"

"No, but you can do a favor for Ned."

Tessa, who'd been standing behind her desk, sat down in a sloppy, thumping heap. "Rand?"

She'd barely caught sight of the man in days—no matter how hard she tried. She was sleeping in a bedroom a few feet from his, but it might as well be in a hotel across town. The man, a top-grade workaholic, kept the most incredible hours.

"Yes, it's Rand. I should have introduced myself."

His voice was low, silky with a trace of teasing. It went straight to her heart and made it beat faster. Tessa picked up a pen, rolled it between her fingers, and concentrated on staying sane. "No, it's okay. It's just, hearing your voice on the phone for the first time, I, uh, wasn't sure."

She fumbled for more conversation. "Ned's back?"

"Yes," Rand said. "He was in my office today. He's coming for dinner tonight, and he was wondering if you'd bring his dogs Pam and Lansky home with you. Save him a trip to the kennel."

"Sure. No problem."

"Good. He'll appreciate it."

Silence.

"Is that it?" she asked, disappointed her Prince Charming hadn't called to invite her to a ball.

"Join us for dinner?" he asked softly. "We'd enjoy your company."

Tessa's throat went dry, and she chewed her lower lip so hard she was certain she'd drawn blood. She should say no, and stay as far away from Rand as possible. A smart person didn't go looking for heartache. "Sure. I'd like that," she muttered—weak, wanting woman that she was—and was instantly disgusted with herself, knowing that nothing short of a UFO abduction could keep her away.

"I'll let Milt know," Rand said smoothly. "Although he'll probably be mad as hell when he hears I've claimed his daily dinner companion. But Ned will look forward to seeing you."

Never mind Ned!
she wanted to yell.
What about you?

"And so will I," he added, his voice deepening.

Ah... now that went down like hot chocolate on a winter's day.

"I'm so glad you said that." She dropped the pen, took a couple of breaths, and ran a fingertip along the pocked edge of her old desk. "Because I'm wearing out my eyes trying to catch sight of you, coming or going from the house. Being able to ogle you from across the dinner table for an hour or more will be my idea of heaven."

"Tessa—" His tone was solemn, but then he laughed. "Are you always so blunt?"

"I call it honest."

"How about unnerving?"

It was her turn to laugh, and she did. "Unnerve Rand Fielding? I don't think so." Although it was the one thought in an otherwise depressing day to lift her spirits.

The other phone line rang. And rang. And rang.

"Darn! Gotta go," she said, letting out an exasperated breath. "And just when the conversation gets interesting."

"Dinner's at eight, Tessa," Rand said, his tone a notch less serious than when he'd first spoken. "See you then."

"Barring flood, pestilence, or war, I'll be there. Bye."

She was positive she heard him chuckle before he hung up the phone.

She placed the phone in its cradle as if it were a delicate newborn. Awash in the rosy glow of anticipation, the mess that was her life suddenly didn't look so bad.

A new worry hit like a crack of lightning. She slumped back in her chair.

What the heck was she going to wear? It took her a full five minutes before she realized she'd missed the other call.

* * *

When in doubt drag out the little black dress, high heels, and gold hoops. Not terribly original but workable—and pretty much her only choice. Other than a hideous, baggy, beige...
thing
her alter ego had bought on a day she'd opted for retail therapy instead of Prozac.

Tessa smoothed the clingy fabric over her hips, twisted to catch a glimpse of her backside in the full-length mirror on the closet door.

She slapped a thigh. Not absolutely terrific. But not bad. Not bad at all. She jutted her chin at the mirror, pulled some long tendrils of hair from the updo she'd labored on for the past half hour.

She stepped back from the mirror, frowned, barely managed not to laugh. She hadn't spent this much time on herself since prom night. It was kind of fun. And, hey, for any woman in pursuit of a hot man like Rand Fielding, making sure the equipment and accessories were A-okay was an essential part of her strategy.

Okay, maybe she wasn't in full-throttle pursuit... yet. She smiled. But she was tired of being ignored. And Rand was definitely hot, and she was most definitely interested. He was the first man to fire up her sexual imagination since Donny Reed. Looking back, she'd gotten far too serious about Donny, far too soon. Just because you wanted a man didn't mean you wanted him forever.

Anyway, it wasn't as if she were planning to be the mother of Rand's children. Her interest was more of a romantically physical nature. A kind of
me Jane, you Tarzan
kind of thing. She had no expectations beyond that.

Did she?

An unanswerable question which she ignored. She dashed a slick of something called Red Plum across her lips, rolled a tissue between them, and stood back from the mirror. She'd pass.

"Ready or not, Fielding, here I come. In as close to battle-ready gear as a dog trainer can get."

She slapped her thigh again. "Come on, Millie, Licks. It's dinnertime."

* * *

Ned did a splendid double take. "Tessa, you look terrific." He stood, came to the door, hugged her, and kissed her cheek. While he did this, Licks rushed over to his lord and master to shed a few thousand puppy hairs on his immaculate black slacks. Her heart warmed when that same lord and master didn't seem to mind, even rough-housed a second or two with Licks, until Tessa called him back and settled both dogs near the door.

"And I like your perfume," Ned added, walking with her to the table.

"Thanks. "Her eyes shot to Rand, who was standing beside his place setting at the long table.

He stared at her, his intense look carrying enough heat to raise the room temperature by several degrees—and hers as well.

"Lilac?" Ned asked, tilting his head.

"Uh-huh." Tessa forced her attention back to Ned. "My sister, Annie, gave it to me for Christmas." Tessa harbored the suspicion it smelled like one of those room deodorizer plug-ins, but she'd never tell Annie that.

"Your sister has good taste then." Ned gestured to the chair across the table from him, leaving Rand between them at its head. "And thanks for bringing Pam and Lansky. They're bedded down in the car as we speak."

"You're welcome. Anytime." Tessa sat, grateful to tuck her knees under the table—although she hadn't missed Rand's lingering first look at her denim-free legs.

He looked so wonderfully Heathcliffish, so dark and forbidding; black slacks, dark gray shirt open at the neck, a slim black belt accenting his narrow waist. Still too pale, though. She had to get the man outside.

When Ned and Rand took their seats, Milton arrived as though on cue.

As he put a bowl of soup in front of each of them, Rand said, "Milt, I wish you'd join us. Surely your quiz show or whatever the hell you watch in there—" he jerked his head toward the kitchen "—can be left for one night."

Milt raised a thin brow. "It could. But it won't. Besides, I've eaten—" he smiled at Tessa, "—sadly, alone tonight. My usual dinner companion has moved up in the social strata to hobnob with the rich and infamous." He cast a testy glance at Ned. "Although I do hope this penchant doesn't extend to the playboys among us."

Ned smiled and shook his head.

Rand growled, "Milt, for God's sake!"

Milt calmly placed the last bowl of soup in front of Rand. "Enjoy. I shall remove these during the next commercial."

Ned grinned and snapped his napkin across his lap. "You haven't told him yet, I take it," he said to Rand.

"No chance yet. I barely got home in time to grab a shower before dinner. Besides, you might want to tell him yourself."

"Good idea. It'll be a kick to get his reaction."

Tessa, in the dark as to what they were talking about, stifled her curiosity and ate a spoonful of soup. Fresh veggie. Delicious.

"By the way, what time tomorrow are Macy and your—" Rand started, stopping when Milt's head popped in through the half-open door leading to the kitchen.

"Ned. Telephone. Some deluded woman who says she's your wife." Milt's tone was wry, but his expression was quizzical.

Ned stood and beamed. "And that she is, Milt. I'll take it in the library," he said. "I'll fill you in on the details later."

Ned went out one door, and Milt, shaking his head, went out the other, leaving Rand and Tessa alone in the cavernous dining room.

Tessa looked at Rand, knowing her eyes were wide with surprise. "Ned's married?"