“Don’t you think we should get to know each other better? I mean, we are going to be latched together for the wedding.”

That was her excuse and she was sticking to it. Her interest had nothing to do with the simmering attraction between them. Nothing to do with the way he studied her, or how watching him touch the silk petals had made her swallow, thinking of those same fingers against her own skin. Nothing to do with the way Kane Lennox had awakened something in her that she hadn’t expected.

He laid the silk flowers in his hand down on the table. “Is that all? Just trying to get to know the guy you’re going to be stuck with for a few hours at a reception?”

Nothing to do with the way looking at him made her wonder if she’d been missing out on something all these years. If Miss Responsibility should take a little vacation—before her vacation.

Susannah inhaled, and when she did she caught the citrus notes of his cologne. The quiet undertone of man. The low, unmistakable hum of sexual current. “Of course.”

Liar.

New York Times bestselling author Shirley Jump didn’t have the will-power to diet, nor the talent to master under-eye concealer, so she bowed out of a career in television and opted instead for a career where she could be paid to eat at her desk—writing. At first, seeking revenge on her children for their grocery store tantrums, she sold embarrassing essays about them to anthologies. However, it wasn’t enough to feed her growing addiction to writing funny. So she turned to the world of romance novels, where messes are (usually) cleaned up before The End. In the worlds Shirley gets to create and control, the children listen to their parents, the husbands always remember holidays, and the housework is magically done by elves. Though she’s thrilled to see her books in stores around the world, Shirley mostly writes because it gives her an excuse to avoid cleaning the toilets and helps feed her shoe habit. To learn more, visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com

Shirley Jump brings you

another sparkling romance

DOORSTEP DADDY in May

Dear Reader

In THE BRIDESMAID AND THE BILLIONAIRE, I’ve brought one of my favourite kinds of hero—the wealthy, troubled man—together with a quirky heroine and some of my absolutely favourite secondary characters: dogs. Anyone who regularly reads my blog (www.shirleyjump.blogspot.com) knows about my new little Havanese puppy, Sophie, and her adventures with my other two dogs. I had a lot of fun writing this book, and introducing some canine characters with personalities all their own!

I hope you enjoy this book, and thank you for being a regular reader of mine—and of Mills & Boon® Romance. Please write to me—either through my website, www.shirleyjump.com, or at PO Box 5126, Fort Wayne, IN 46895, USA—and tell me about your favourite Romance. Who knows? Maybe we’ve got a favourite book in common!

Happy reading

Shirley

THE BRIDESMAID AND THE BILLIONAIRE

BY

SHIRLEY JUMP

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For Sherri, my own maid of honor and best friend, even though she got the part of the narrator in the fourth grade play. The best part about having her as a best friend is we’re never too grown up to have fun.

CHAPTER ONE

KANE Lennox’s bare feet sank into the new spring grass, his toes disappearing between the thick green blades like shy mice. He’d slept on mattresses that cost as much as a small sedan, walked on carpet that had been hand loomed in the Orient, and worn shoes made to order specifically for his feet by a cobbler in Italy. But those experiences paled in comparison to this one. Comfort slid through his veins, washing over him in a wave, lapping at the stress that normally constricted his heart, easing the emotion’s death grip on his arteries.

He halted midstep, tossing the conundrum around in his mind. How could something so simple, so basic, as walking barefoot on grass, feel so wonderful?

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Kane whirled around at the sound of the woman’s voice. Tall and thin, her blond hair hanging in a long straight curtain to her waist, she stood with tight fists propped on her hips. Her features were delicate, classic, with wide green eyes and lush dark pink lips, but right now her face had been transformed by a mask of confusion and annoyance. In one hand she held a cell phone, her thumb over the send button, 9-1-1 just a push away.

Not that he could blame her. Even he had to admit what he was doing looked…odd. Out of place. Kane put up both hands. The “See, I’m okay, not carrying any lethal weapons” posture. “There’s a perfectly logical explanation for my behavior,” he said. “And my presence.”

She raised a dubious brow, but looked a bit worried, even apprehensive. “A total stranger. Barefoot. On my sister’s lawn. In the middle of the day. Uh-huh. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for that.” She turned, casting a hand over her eyes, shading them from the sun. “Either there’s some cameraman waiting to jump out of the shrubbery with a ‘Surprise, you’re on Candid Camera’ announcement, or you’re here on some loony-bin field trip.”

He laughed. “I assure you, I’m not crazy.”

Though the last few weeks had driven him nearly to insanity. Which had pushed him to this point. To the small town of Chapel Ridge, in the middle of Indiana. To—

Being barefoot on, as she had said, her sister’s lawn in the middle of a bright April day. Okay, so it was mildly crazy.

“That leaves the Candid Camera option, which I’m definitely not in the mood for, or…trespassing.” She held up the phone like a barrier against a vampire. “Either way, I’m calling the cops.”

“Wait.” He took a step forward, thought better of it and backed up. As his gaze swept over her a second time, he realized she looked familiar, and now knew why. “You must be…” He racked his brain. Usually he was so good at names. But this time, he couldn’t come up with hers. “The sister of the bride. Jackie’s sister.”

“I get it. You’re a detective who does his best thinking in his bare feet, is that it?” She gave him a sardonic grin. “Must have been tough, putting all the puzzle pieces together, what with the Congratulations Jackie and Paul sign out front, the paper wedding bells hanging on the mailbox. Oh, and the happiness emanating from the house like cheap perfume.” She paused midtirade. “Wait. How do you know who I am?”

Kane gave her an assessing glance, avoiding the question. “What’s made you so disagreeable?”

She sighed and lowered the phone. “I’ve had a rough day. A rough life and—” She cut herself off again. “How do you do that? I’m not telling you a single thing about me.”

“Listen, I’ll just get out of here and leave you to your day. I’ve clearly come at a bad time.” He bent over, picked up his designer Italian leather dress shoes and started to leave.

“Wait.” She let out a gust.

He turned back and for a second, Kane swore he heard a spark of himself—of the last few months, the days that had driven him to this town, to this crazy idea—in that sound. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, and the spark of distrust had returned.

“You still haven’t told me why you’re barefoot on the lawn in the middle of the day.”

Kane’s jaw hardened. “We’re back to that again?”

“When did we ever leave that topic?” She parked her fists back on her hips, the cell phone dangling between two fingers.

Telling her why he was here, and what he was doing, involved getting into far too many personal details. If he started opening up about his problems, he’d have all of Chapel Ridge—all 4,910 residents, as it were—knowing his identity, and there’d go his plan to enjoy some much-needed R & R.

He had no intentions of telling anyone anything. Particularly Jackie’s sister.

Susannah Wilson. That was her name. Suzie-Q, Paul called her, like the packaged dessert.

Before she could question him further, he headed over to his little blue rental car, a cheap American model, light-years away from the silver convertible Bentley Azure he usually drove. The rental was nondescript, plain. Like something anyone else in the world would be driving. And perfect.

Susannah followed him. Not one to give up easily, that was clear. “You still didn’t answer my question. Who are you? And why are you here?”

“That’s two questions. And I don’t have to tell you anything, either. It’s a free country.”

He could almost hear her internal scream of frustration. Oh, this was going to be fun.

She scowled. “Trespassing is a crime, you know.”

He grinned. When he’d booked this trip, he’d had no idea there’d be a fringe benefit of this little fireball. “Only if you’re not invited. And I was invited.” He paused a beat, watching her eyes widen in surprise at the word invited, waiting to deliver the last punch of surprise. “I’m the best man, after all.”

“You have the worst taste in friends.”

Paul Hurst, Jackie’s fiancé, laughed. “Suzie-Q, you need to give Kane the benefit of the doubt. He’s not so bad. And he had his reasons for what he was doing, I’m sure.”

“Where did you meet him anyway? Prison?”

“College. He had the room next door to mine, and we had a few classes together. And he’s—” Paul cut himself off. “He’s a good guy. Just trust me on that.”

Susannah got to her feet, gathering the mess of dishes on the coffee table. The collection of plates and glasses had grown over the day, multiplying like bunnies in her absence. Jackie and Paul didn’t move from their positions in the living room of the old Victorian-style house. Paul had his feet up on the scarred maple coffee table—a garage sale find of Susannah’s from last summer—and Jackie was curled up beside him, the remote control in her hands. Across the room, a detective show played on the big-screen TV, an early wedding gift from Susannah and the bridesmaids, who had chipped in on the electronic extravagance. “The last time I trusted you, you stole my sister’s heart.”

Paul laughed. He wrapped an arm around Jackie and drew her to him. The leather sofa, a replacement for the plaid one that had sat in this room for nearly twenty years, creaked beneath his weight. “Just think of it as gaining a brother.”

Jackie leaned into the brown-haired man she had dated for the better part of three years and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “A very handsome brother.”

Susannah grinned. “Santa must not have heard me when I said I wanted a pony.”

She headed out of the room, the dishes in her hands, and loaded them into the sink. She ran hot water over them, added dish soap, then started washing. She had stood at this sink for nearly all her life, looked out this same window at the same yard, washing dishes ever since she’d been old enough to stand on the small wooden stepstool and reach into the deep-bottomed stainless steel sink. Back then, she’d washed while her mother dried, the two of them falling into a natural rhythm, working along with the radio in the background, and the sunny yellow kitchen seemed to beam back the sunshine in her mother’s voice.

But those days were gone, the radio had broken years ago, and the kitchen’s paint had faded. And now the dishes had become a chore.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jackie said. She leaned against the refrigerator, filing her nails with an emery board.

“If you let them sit—”

“They won’t break,” Jackie cut in. “Leave the dishes for later. Or even better, don’t do them at all.”

If Susannah didn’t do them, they’d never get done. Neither Jackie nor Paul was much for housework, despite their protests to the contrary. In exchange for living with the two of them for a nominal rent to help pay down the mortgage, Susannah had agreed to do the majority of the housework and even though the deal had worked out so that she ended up doing all the chores, most days the arrangement suited her just fine. It helped her save money, which went to her ultimate goal.

Freedom.

One week. Just one more week, and she’d be out of here. Out of this house. Out of this town. On her way to the life she had dreamed of for so long it seemed like she had been born with the dream. Susannah’s gaze drifted to the stained-glass Eiffel Tower hanging in the kitchen window. Gold and orange glints bounced off the countertops as the sun’s afternoon’s rays streamed through the tiny glass shards.

I’ve never been here, her mother had said, that last Christmas when she’d given Susannah the small reproduction of Paris’s famous landmark, but I hope someday you can go, sweet Susannah. See the world I never got to see.

Susannah would. No matter what it took.

“I’ll just get these few before I go to work,” Susannah said.

“But you just got home. I thought you were done for the day.”

“I had a couple late appointments. Every appointment is another dollar, you know.” She gave Jackie a smile.

“You work too hard.” Jackie held her hands out, checked all ten fingers, deemed them perfect and tucked the file into her back pocket.

“All for the ultimate goal, sis. All for the ultimate goal.”

“A discreet way of saying you hate living with us.” Jackie laughed, showing Susannah no offense was taken, then gave her sister a quick hug. “Oh, when you go out, do you mind doing me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stop by and pick up the centerpieces? I have a fitting tonight and then…”

“The party.”

The bachelorette party. The same one that Susannah had planned, as maid of honor, but wasn’t attending. She’d never known Jackie’s friends very well, and as the date had approached, felt herself less and less inclined to spend the evening with the other bridesmaids. Women who had always been Jackie’s friends and included Susannah only as an afterthought, like adding one more fern to an already perfect floral arrangement.

“You can still come. You are one of the bridesmaids, after all. The bachelorette party is one of the perks.” Jackie grinned.

“I’m cool, Jackie. Really.” She ran the sponge over a plate, scrubbing at the center until the stoneware gleamed. “I’m not much for parties anyway.”

“You’re just avoiding, like you always do.”

“No, I’m not. I have to work.”

Jackie sighed but let the subject drop. She placed a hand on Susannah’s shoulder. “I appreciate you picking the centerpieces up. You’re really saving me. Again.”

Not that Susannah had the time. She had three dogs to bathe tonight, and a million errands of her own. “What about Paul?”

“Nothing against my future husband, but I don’t think he’d know a centerpiece from a centrifuge.” She laughed.

Susannah increased the water temperature, filling a casserole dish that had been used for nachos or cheese dip, or something equally hardened and stubborn about giving up its baked-on grip. “When were you planning on assembling them?”

“Assembling them?” Jackie paused, then smacked her temples. “Damn. I totally forgot about that part. Maybe tomorrow afternoon.” She thought a second. “No, wait. That’s the meeting with the minister to go over the rest of the ceremony details. Umm…tomorrow night? No, not then, either. Paul and I have plans with the Fitzgeralds. Remember them? They used to be Mom and Dad’s friends. I don’t know how long we’ll be at their house. You know how they can talk. And then on Thursday night we have the reh—”

“Basically, you have a million other things to do,” Susannah finished.

As usual. Jackie’s list was filled with social engagements and outings and very few responsibilities. At twenty-six, Susannah was four years older than Jackie and had always run her life down the opposite track. She bit back a breath of annoyance. Soon Jackie would be married, and she’d have to be responsible. Because Susannah wouldn’t be here anymore to carry the load.

“It’s a wonder I have time to go to work with all that, huh?” Jackie said, laughing. “Believe me, if Paul and I didn’t need the money, I’d be calling in sick every day. Gosh, how on earth am I ever going to find time to do everything for the wedding? It’s like the clock is running out. Jerry said we could set up early at the hotel, because they have nothing else scheduled there this weekend, but I don’t even have time to…”

Her voice trailed off and then that hopeful smile took over her face. The one Susannah knew as well as she knew every square inch of this house. Jackie leaned against the counter and met Susannah’s gaze. “Hey, what are you doing tonight, sis?”

Susannah pulled the drain on the sink. “No way, Jackie. I’ve got—”

“Please, Suzie-Q. Please?” Jackie put her hands together, and gave Susannah a pleading-puppy-dog look. “Just this one more favor, and then, I swear, I’ll never ask for another. I swear.”

And Susannah said yes. Just like always.

CHAPTER TWO

KANE could run a multi-billion-dollar, fourth-generation, international gem import company. Negotiate million-dollar deals. Understand the most complicated of financial reports. Surely he could do something as simple as light a fire. The flame on the match met the log, sputtered briefly, then poof, disappeared.

Apparently not.

He’d rented the cabin on the outskirts of town, ordered a quarter-cord of wood, picked up some matches at the store downtown, and thought the whole process would be as simple as striking a match to a box, then holding it against a stick.

Uh…not exactly.

Kane let out a curse as his sixth attempt fizzled and died, then stalked outside. He drew in several deep breaths of fresh, country air. An hour ago, he’d been loving the whole experience. Now he was ready to call his chauffeur, have him hurry the hell out here with the limo and drive him straight to the private Lennox Gem Corporation jet.

No. He’d do this. He needed to do this.

He stepped back and appraised the situation with logic, thinking back over movies he’d seen and the books about camping he’d skimmed on the plane when he’d taken this impromptu escape from reality. Too many large, thick logs. Not enough skinny sticks. What he needed was more kindling. Not more thinking.

Kane headed outside, blew some warm air on his cold hands, then started picking up sticks from the ground. As he did, his hands brushed against the bare dirt, pushing soil under his nails when he dug into the earth to loosen a stubborn piece. He pulled his hand back and marveled at the sight of the dirt.

Such a simple thing, and yet, he’d never done this. Never had soil beneath his nails. Never cleaned mud from his uncalloused palms. Kane kneeled down and pressed both hands into the soft dark brown earth, squeezing the thick clumps. A burst of rich, earthy scent filled his nostrils. Then the dirt broke apart, slipping through his fingers and hitting the ground again with a soft patter, like fat raindrops.

Kane chuckled. Imagine that. One of the richest men in the world, amused at something so basic as communing with Mother Nature.

Something shivered the bushes beside him. Kane jerked to attention, grabbing his kindling as he did. He thrust his right hand forward, then realized his sapling ammunition made him about as dangerous as a sunflower. “Who’s there?”

Or rather, what was there?

When he’d made the decision two days ago to come here for more than just Paul’s wedding, he’d done a quick research overview of the location, right down to the last lack of amenities, but hadn’t thought to look up “wild indigenous animals.” For God’s sake, the thing rustling around five feet from him could be a bear.

The rustling grew louder, the leaves shaking like can-can dancers. Kane took a step back. Should he head for the cabin? Stand his ground? He could just see the headline now: Idiot CEO Billionaire Dies: Money No Match For Bear In Woods.

The press would have a field day with that one. He’d be the butt of jokes for generations to come.

Then, out of the woods, a bundle of fur came bounding right for him, and Kane started to turn and run back inside, until he realized the bundle was—

A dog.

The mutt, a small barrel of brown-and-white fur and floppy ears, barked at him, then leapt at his legs, tongue lolling, tail wagging. Oh, God, it was on him now. Shedding. Kane had no experience with pets. Not unless he counted the one week his mother thought it would be cute to have a pocket pooch, then changed her mind once she realized live dogs actually peed and pooped—and gave the dog to the maid.

This thing was as friendly as a second-place politician desperate for every last vote. Kane took a step back, hands up, his sticks like finger extensions. “Whoa, there, buddy. Get down. Please.”

Undaunted, the dog kept coming, launching himself at Kane in another greeting. Kane reached out a tentative hand, and gave the dog an awkward pat on the head. “There you go. Now go on home.”

The dog barked, plopped his butt on the ground and swished a semicircle into the ground with his tail.

“Go home.”

The dog’s tail widened the dirt semicircle, creating a tiny cloud of dust. He barked disagreement. Stubborn.

“Well, if you won’t, I will.” Kane pivoted, and headed into the cabin. Before he could shut the door—hands impeded by the load of kindling—the dog was there.

Inside.

With him.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Shoo.” Kane waved out the door. The dog stayed put, staring at him. Expectant. “Go home.”

The dog barked some more. This time it sounded like a feed-me bark. Not that Kane would know, of course, but the way the dog was looking at him, he seemed kind of hungry.

“I don’t have any dog food. In fact—”

He didn’t have any people food, either. For a man who lived his life by a schedule and a plan, he’d done a pretty lousy job of planning this one.

It was that woman. She’d gotten him all turned around this morning. Set him off-kilter. If he hadn’t met her, he wouldn’t have forgotten to buy food. Or thoroughly check out his surroundings. Or gather kindling. And then he wouldn’t have this…this creature staring at him.

A creature he needed to get rid of. Kane opened the door, but the dog stayed put. Clearly, reasoning with the animal wasn’t going to work. The dog wore no collar, so Kane couldn’t call his owner. And he certainly couldn’t keep the thing here. So he did the only other thing he knew to do—delegate.

He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in the number for the woman who had rented him the cabin. “Mrs. Maxwell, do you own a dog?”

Angela Maxwell, an older woman with gray hair and a friendly smile, and most of all, a tendency not to ask any questions once she had a valid credit-card number in hand, laughed on the other end of the phone. “No, dear, I don’t. But there are lots of stray dogs around the cabins. Sometimes they get separated from their owners who are on vacation. And we don’t have much of a leash law ’round here. People kind of just let their dogs go, it being a small town and all. Most everybody knows most everybody else’s dogs.”

“Do you know this one? It’s brown and white. Short. Stubborn.” Kane glared at the dog. It swished its tail and, he swore, grinned at him.

“Well, no, can’t say that I do, but I know who would know. You take that pooch on down to The Sudsy Dog. The owner there, she runs a sort of pet rescue thing. She’ll help you out.”

“The Sudsy Dog?”

“It’s a hot dog wash.” Mrs. Maxwell laughed at the pun. “Just off of Main Street. You can’t miss it. On the sign you’ll see—”

“Let me guess. A hot dog in a tub?”

“You got it. Except, he’s really a dachshund. It’s the cutest dang sign ever. My Orin painted it himself.” Then she hung up.

Kane groaned. He looked down at the dog, who looked back up at him, still wagging. “Looks like we’re going for a ride.”

That got the dog off his feet. He popped to all fours, tail beating a drum of anticipation against Kane’s leg. Kane headed out to his rental car, trying not to cringe at the thought of dog hair all over the leather interior, then opened the door. Before he could say “Lay down on the floor,” the dog was sitting right beside the driver’s seat.

Looked like he was going to have a new best friend for the next few minutes.

Whether he liked it or not.

Susannah latched the wire crate holding Mrs. Prudhomme’s standard poodle, then took off her apron and brushed the bangs off her forehead. “You’re looking gorgeous after your beauty treatment, Fancy Pants. Which is more than I can say for me.”

The white dog let out a woof, then settled down in the cage to wait for her owner to pick her up. Fancy Pants was in here once every two weeks, and though she barely tolerated the manicures, she enjoyed the grooming process.

Susannah glanced at theArc de Triomphe poster on her wall. Nine hundred dogs. Three hundred cats. And now she was there—she finally had enough money saved to take that trip. To finally experience a life outside this little town. To put all those years of French classes into practice. To dust off her never-used passport. And see the world.

She traced her finger down the two-dimensional image of the intricate carving of the Departure of Volunteers on the Arc, imagining herself in a world so much more glamorous than this one. Heck, working almost anywhere would be more glamorous than doing what she did for a living.

The bell over the door jingled and Susannah let out a sigh. Back to work. And back to reality.

“Take this…this thing off my hands. Please.”

Susannah turned around and found first, an adorable brown-and-white dog at her feet. Then, a fuming best man behind him. The same man from the morning, only this time he was wearing shoes—and a frown. “You again.”

“I could say the same thing. You work here?”

She nodded, not bothering to correct him and tell him she owned the business. Susannah bent down to scratch the dog behind the ears. He let out a happy groan and pressed himself against her legs, his tail wagging. “Is this your dog?”

“God, no. He’s some stray who can’t seem to get the hint.”

She arched a brow. “Seems to be a lot of those in town lately.”

Kane leaned an elbow on the cabinet and gave her a smirk. When he did, the facial gestured transformed him, taking Kane from ordinary to…

Well, extraordinarily handsome, almost playboy handsome, like something out of a magazine. A quiver ran through Susannah’s gut, but she ignored it.

“You aren’t talking about me, are you?” he said.

“Not at all.” Susannah’s voice raised into high and innocent ranges. She straightened, the dog remaining by her side. “So whose dog is this? He looks like a Brittany spaniel, or a Brit mix.”

“You tell me. He just showed up at my cabin.” Kane thumbed toward the door, in an easterly direction. “I’m staying in one of the Lake Everett cabins.”

He was renting one of the rustic cabins? Sure, he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but the shirt was as clean as one straight out of the package. And his shoes—

Now that he was wearing them, she noticed he had on expensive dress shoes. Not the kind anyone would wear in the woods, especially not that kind of leather, which looked as soft as kid gloves. A high gloss bounced light off the finish, which sported fine, delicate stitching.

He was too…perfect to be the typical renter who came into town in the summer, stayed a week or two for the fishing, then went back to his normal life. Kane Lennox could have passed for a cover model, one of those men clad in a three-piece suit, hawking expensive cologne or designer watches. Except…

Except for his eyes. His eyes held a summer storm, the dark blues of passing thunderclouds, the depths of unplumbed mysteries. Behind his cobalt gaze, Susannah wondered, was the real Kane Lennox the man in a suit, or the barefoot man she’d met this morning?

“Well, I don’t recognize this little guy,” she said, bending down to stroke the dog’s silky ears, distancing herself from thoughts of his temporary owner, “but I’ll put up a notice in my shop.”

“Good. I appreciate you doing so.” Kane turned on his heel.

“Wait. You’re not leaving him here, are you?”

He stopped in the doorway. “Of course. I couldn’t possibly be responsible for the caretaking of a dog.”

“Why not? Are you allergic?”

“I don’t believe so.”

That right there. The way he talked. That, too, didn’t fit with the image of a cabin renter. Some weekend fisherman, or an avid hunter on a few days’ break from the daily grind. Every one of Paul’s friends was the typical guy-next-door, the kind that sat at the bar and knocked back a couple of beers, told a bawdy joke or two. This guy…not at all that type. How on earth did he ever become Paul’s friend, and not just friend, but best friend?

“Do you have two hands?” Susannah asked.

“Yes.” He gave her a dubious look.

“Two legs?”

The dubious look narrowed. “Yes.”

“Then that, along with this,” Susannah grabbed a five-pound bag of dry dog food from the shelf and thrust it into his arms, “is all you need for now. Even though we take great care of our shelter animals here, we first try to find foster families for them.”

“Foster families. For dogs.”

“Yep. And since this little guy is already attached to you, it should be no sweat for you to take him home. He’ll do much better emotionally with you, at your house, than he would stuck in a kennel all day anyway. And really, all you have to do is feed him, walk him and wait until his owner claims him.”

He stared at her. “Are you completely insane? I am not a dog person.”

Again, he had that air about him. Not just out of town, but completely out of her world. Out of her social stratosphere. Clearly, the man came from some money. He had to, given the way he dressed and talked. Why would someone like that want to stay in Chapel Ridge, Indiana, any longer than he had to?

While they’d been debating, the dog had left Susannah’s side and was now plopped down beside Kane, his little snout turned up expectantly. “Apparently he disagrees.”

“He’s a dog, he doesn’t know any better.” Kane waved in her direction. “You are the hot dog wash person. You take him.”

“No can do. I’m too busy with the wedding plans.”

“Last I checked, you weren’t the bride.”

No, she wasn’t. And Susannah had no intentions of becoming a bride anytime soon, that was for sure. A relationship, especially a serious one, would only derail the dream she’d worked so hard to fulfill.

“Let’s just say that being a bridesmaid doesn’t lessen my level of responsibility,” Susannah said with a little laugh.

Kane eyed her with a visual question mark, but didn’t press the issue. “He’s just a dog. Surely—”

“You can handle it as easily as I.” Susannah ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t need one more thing on her to-do list. Couldn’t the man see that? He may be handsome, but he had an obstinate streak as long as the Mississippi River.

She grabbed a leash and collar from the shelf and handed those to him, too, adding them to the top of the dog food. “You might want to put the leash to use right now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rover there has some needs to attend to.” She pointed at the dog, who was sniffing at the room like a drug addict.

“He can wait.”

“Only if you don’t mind him messing up your car later.”

It took Kane a second, then he made the connection. His face wrinkled in disgust. “Absolutely not.” He waved at her. “Well, tell him to go do what he needs to do then.”

Susannah laughed. “I can’t tell a dog to do anything, at least when it comes to that particular bodily function. But you could try walking him.”

“Why? He has four paws of his own.”

Susannah rolled her eyes, then took the leash and collar out of Kane’s hand, fitted them onto the dog, then handed the other end back to Kane. “Walking the dog is when you move your two legs. The dog will get the idea, believe me.”

He stared at her, seeming horrified by the entire idea. “What about you?”

“I have other things to do, like my job.” She started to walk away.

“Wait!”

Susannah pivoted back. And nearly laughed out loud. Tall, muscular Kane looked lost. “It’s a pretty simple concept, Mr. Lennox. Put one foot in front of the other. Rover will follow. And if you go near some grass, his natural instincts will take over.” Before he could protest or ask her to do it, she pointed toward the back door of the shop. “There’s some grass right in the back parking lot. It’ll take five minutes, I swear.”

Kane scowled, but did as she said, walking stiffly out the door, with Rover following behind, pausing every half second to sniff. Susannah watched through the window, biting her lip, trying not to laugh. Too loudly.

A few minutes later, Rover was feeling much better and Kane had returned to the shop. “Now will you take him?”

“Why? You’re doing great. And besides, you’re on vacation, right? Staying at a cabin in the woods? Think of him as…a roommate.”

Kane scowled. “I don’t want, nor do I need, a roommate.”

The dog had plastered himself to Kane’s leg. Susannah gave him a grin. An SUV pulled into the parking lot, a familiar golden furball in the passenger’s seat. Her next appointment. “Seems like you have one, like it or not. Now, unless you want to help me bathe a golden retriever, and deck her out with some bows in her hair, you might want to head on home with your new best friend.”

An incredulous look filled Kane’s eyes. “Bows? On a dog?”

“She’s a girl. She likes to look pretty. Even if doing so leaves me looking like a sopping wet disaster afterwards,” Susannah added, brushing a clump of dog hair off her T-shirt. God, she was a mess. She looked about as good as her canine charges—before their baths.

Not that she cared, of course, what Kane Lennox thought about her appearance. It was simply that this man had her feeling off center. She didn’t care at all if he found her unappealing because she’d just finished giving a poodle a bath.

Except a part of her did care. And that part was annoyed that she worried whether she had any lipstick left on her mouth. Whether her bangs were askew. Whether she reeked of eau de puppy.

“What if…” He hesitated. “What if I help you with your work? Will you take this—” he shifted his weight to the opposite foot “—this thing off my hands then?”

“You’re going to help me give a golden retriever a bath?”

He dropped the bag of dog food onto the counter. The spaniel watched the kibble transfer and heaved a sigh of disappointment. “Why are you so surprised by my offer?”

“You don’t strike me as the dog-bathing type. Especially considering the way you’re reacting to your new best friend here.”

Kane’s stance straightened, consciously, or maybe unconsciously, putting some distance between himself and the small dog. “I’m simply making a business proposition. Quid pro quo.”

Susannah considered the neatly pressed Kane again. She doubted he had any experience with pets. Nary a shred of shampooing or grooming background. Yet, she’d give about anything to see this stiff, uppity stranger covered in soapy bubbles and dog slobber.

She thrust out her hand and when he took hers, a spark traveled up her arm, taking Susannah completely by surprise. Attracted? To him?

She couldn’t be. He was not her type. At all. For one, he had that air of uppercrust about him. For another, he was too vague about who he was, where he was from. She liked the men she dated to be open, friendly.

Sort of like a good golden retriever, come to think of it. This man was more of a Lhasa apso, too pretty to be a workhorse. But if Kane was willing to take a little of the burden off her shoulders, who was she to turn him down?

“You’ve got a deal, Mr. Lennox,” Susannah said, attributing her reaction to him as being too tired, too overworked. “I just hope you can keep up your end of the bargain.”

A slow grin stole across his face. “If there’s one thing I always do, Miss Wilson, it’s make sure that the deal is a win-win for me, too.”

And as that smile widened, Susannah had to wonder whether she’d just been outwitted—and whether she’d be the real loser in this proposition.

CHAPTER THREE

INSANE.

Kane Lennox never made spur-of-the-moment offers. Every move in his life had an intention, a purpose, a plan behind it. He operated like a Mercedes with a well-tuned engine and a navigational system. No breakdowns, no detours and no surprises.

Then what on earth had made him open up his mouth and actually volunteer to bathe a canine? He didn’t even like dogs. Or at least, he didn’t think he did. He had no experience with canines, so therefore, no opinion one way or another, except he knew he had no time for that stray, and no room in his life for a spaniel. And yet, here he was, elbow-deep in soapy water beside a way-too-friendly golden retriever.

He glanced over at Susannah Wilson, who was cooing to the dog as she sudsed the animal’s head, and knew exactly what had possessed him to throw that sentence out there. Her. She’d distracted him nearly from the minute he’d met her. Combined with the day he’d had, the dog and his discomfort at being in a strange town, out of his normal element—

Oh, hell, it was really all the pretty woman. The way she had half her blond locks tucked behind her ear, the other half drifting along her cheek in damp waves. And the way she stared at him like he was some kind of weird stalker come to invade her town with a highly viral disease.

The combination—attraction mixed with distrust—sparked amusement in him, and raised his interest in her to a level unlike anything he’d felt in a long time.

Kane had met hundreds of women over the course of his life. Dated dozens of them. But in the circles he traveled, the women were too perfect, too pampered. Susannah Wilson, on the other hand, had a less finished edge to her, like a diamond that had yet to be cut and polished. She was…

Unique.

Intriguing. Very intriguing.

“Hey, I thought you were here to help. That means holding her steady,” Susannah said.

“Easier said than done,” Kane grumbled. “This dog is as slippery as an eel in an oil vat.”

Susannah chuckled, then tightened the rainbow paw-printed lead attached from the top of the deep stainless steel tub to the dog’s neck, which shortened the dog’s roaming room. “Didn’t you ever have a pet?”

“No, never.”

“Not so much as a gerbil?”

“No.” Kane snorted. “Let’s just say rodents wouldn’t have gone with my mother’s décor.”

Susannah gave him a curious look and Kane cursed himself for that slip. He should have lied and told her he’d had half a dozen pets. But he was no better at lying than he was at starting a fire, so his best bet was to keep his mouth shut altogether. Except Susannah—when she didn’t have that look on her face that said she thought he was either crazy or criminal—had the kind of personality that begged friendliness. Openness.

She had a wide smile, a deep, contagious laugh and luminous green eyes filled with curiosity. They drew him in, making Kane forget his cover story, his life in New York, and had him instead longing fora little of that magic she seemed to possess. The same magic she used to calm dogs, as easily as if she were a human warm blanket and bowl of puppy food.

Perhaps, Kane thought, studying Susannah’s bent head, then letting his gaze slip along her lithe form, he could add a little female R & R to his holiday? After all, he was the best man, and she was the maid of honor. They’d have to be together for the wedding. Wasn’t it almost expected that they end up sharing a little more than a dance or two?

The golden retriever squirmed under his inattention, sending a river of water down Kane’s arm. “You better hold on there,” Susannah said with a laugh and a tease in her eyes. “Or I might end up grooming you by accident.”

“You wouldn’t.”

She held up the huge water sprayer. “Accidents do happen, you know, all the time in the workplace.”

He laughed. “What is this, revenge for this morning?”

“What revenge?” She gave him a look of pure innocence. “I’m just saying—” her finger slipped a teeny bit on the button, sending a quick dribble of water his way “—I’m the one in control of the water here and you better stay on my best side.”

The woman didn’t seem to have a bad side, at least in the beauty department. From her bright smile to her deep green eyes, to the shapely curves that begged his gaze to slide down her form, everything about Susannah Wilson drew his attention over and over again. Even in jeans and a T-shirt, she looked as beautiful as the runway models he’d known in New York. Maybe even more so, because there was a natural rawness to her looks that set off his libido and had him craving everything about her.

“You’re in control, huh?” he said, grinning. Then he stepped to the right, fast, ripping the sprayer from her grip before she even saw him coming. He gave her a quick blast on the belly, and she let out a shriek.

“Hey! No fair.”

“All’s fair in war and business, didn’t you know that?”

Susannah squirmed around in his grip, which brought her directly beneath him, and made Kane very, very aware of their close quarters. Of her parted lips. Of how all it would take would be a breath of a movement, and he could be holding her, having her in his arms, and even more, kissing her.

“Give that back,” she said.

“Make me.”

She reached for the sprayer. He feinted to the right. She dodged to the left. They collided, closer. Then again, closer still, and both of them froze.

A second ticked by on the clock above. Another. Susannah swallowed. Kane leaned forward, the game forgotten, the sprayer falling into the tub, his hands moving to brace on either side of the stainless steel, when the dog, apparently sensing the distraction of the humans in the room, gave a quick shake, bathing all of them in soapy bubbles.

Kane jerked back. Susannah spun back around and soothed the dog. “We should, ah, get back to work.”

“Yeah, we should.”

But he knew—and knew she knew—that as much as they might be pretending to return to all business, there’d been a shift between them from just acquaintances to something a little more.

“What made you decide to do this for a living?” he asked, changing the subject. Get your mind in the game, Lennox. Or he’d end up covered in dog and suds, possibly ticking off Susannah—which would mean she’d send him home with that spaniel. Definitely not a win-win. “It’s not like dog washing is on the guidance counselor list of career paths.”

She bristled slightly. Damn. He’d offended her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay. This is only a temporary gig anyway. I started walking dogs in high school for extra money, and one thing led to another. Before I knew it, I had a business.”

“You own The Sudsy Dog?”

She grinned. “All mine, soap bubbles and all.”

Yet another surprise. His esteem for her raised several notches. “I’m impressed. Seems like you’re doing really well. A one-woman shop and everything. That’s not easy to accomplish.”

She shrugged. “It’s not much.”

He reached out, placing a hand on hers, intending only to get her attention, but when his touch slipped against hers because of the soapy water, a zing went up his arm. The charge detonated in his brain, reigniting the sparks from earlier. When was the last time he’d felt that way?

Seven years ago. Rebecca Nichols, a woman Kane had met in his business-ethics class. Rebecca hadn’t come from old money or new money, or anything other than a normal apple-pie-eating American family. They’d dated for six months—six fast and furious, amazing months. She’d been the first woman he’d dated who hadn’t been handpicked by his father. And Kane had hoped in some crazy way that Elliott would approve. That his father would see his son’s choice in a woman as bold. Unique. Carving out his own path. Exactly the qualities Elliott always preached about to his employees—then seemed to do his best to squash in his son.

Kane and Rebecca’s relationship had been fun, exciting and perfect—until Elliott Lennox found out his son was dating an “unacceptable” woman and paid Rebecca’s family enough money to convince them their daughter would find a better education abroad.

Kane had gotten the message. His father didn’t see his son as bold or determined. Simply headstrong and foolish, particularly when it came to women. Stepping out of line with the family plan would cost him. Dearly. The business and the family image came above everything, even personal happiness.

Kane had been allowed to stay at Northwestern, but only after agreeing to tightly toe the Lennox family line. And the price Kane had to pay? His father sent him a new roommate—to make sure Kane stayed in line.

Now, here he was, for the first time in forever, feeling a powerful surge of attraction again. Real, honest desire. For a real, honest woman, not the kind who put on social airs. Damn, it felt good. Real good. Kane caught Susannah’s gaze. Had she been affected, like he?

But no. She gave him a look as blank as a clean slate, waiting for him to speak. Kane tried to refocus, to remind himself he was here for a short vacation, a work reprieve, not a major life departure. He cleared his throat. “It’s a lot, believe me. Up to fifty percent of all new businesses fail within the first five years. You should be proud.”

Now her gaze narrowed. “How do you know so much about business?”

Damn. He had yet to learn the keys to a good cover story. Keep your mouth shut and know your lines.

He couldn’t very well rattle off his real résumé. Kane Lennox: fourth-generation CEO of the largest gem importing company in the world. Kane Lennox, one of the Lennoxes, the family that had been listed in the Forbes 500 issue for as many years as the magazine had been printed. Kane Lennox: the man with enough personal fortune to buy this town ten times over and still have change left over to line the streets with thousand-dollar bills.

If he told her any of that, she’d look at him just like everyone else did. With awe. With reverence. She’d step back and stop seeing him as just Kane. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to just be—

Kane.

Ordinary man. In ordinary clothes. Doing ordinary things.

With no butlers. No limos. No expectations.

“I, ah, just like to read business magazines,” he said finally. “When I’m not at work. You know, in the spirit of getting ahead.”

“That I can understand.” A soft smile of empathy stole across her face. “Working hard for what you want, right?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s my personal philosophy, too.” She shot him a grin. “Who’d have thought I would have anything in common with a guy I met on my sister’s lawn?”

He echoed her grin. “A barefoot guy at that.”

She laughed. “And here I usually go for the kind who wear shoes.”

“I’ll keep that in—” The dog wriggled then, shaking off the soapy water, spraying the room, Susannah and Kane with a fine sheen of bubbles. Kane backed up, warding off the foamy onslaught, cursing under his breath. But that only seemed to encourage the golden dog, who shook even more vigorously, her tail becoming a soap-spraying fan.

“What is wrong with that animal?”

Susannah laughed. “If you held on to her, she won’t do that.”

“What do you think I was doing? She’s not cooperating.”

Susannah arched a brow.

“Hey, if you think you can do a better job holding—” Kane said, backing up and waving at the dog.

“Fine. I’ll do your job and you can do mine.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can wash.” She tossed a bottle of shampoo at him and moved away from the dog’s head.

“No. No, I didn’t mean I’d…” Kane stared at the bottle, then the animal, then Susannah, then the dog again. “There is absolutely no way I can wash this animal.”

“A deal’s a deal, isn’t it? You said you’d help. You haven’t been much help so far.” She gave him a grin that was more of a challenge. And again, his libido roared to life. “Besides, Dakota here isn’t so bad. Trust me. She’s one of the easier clients I have.”

“Easier?” Kane snorted disagreement. He looked at the dog again. The dog looked at him, her wide soulful brown eyes seeming to say, “Oh, no, not him.” Kane took in a deep breath, squirted a little shampoo into his hands, then rubbed them together. “Uh, where do I…?”

“Her back. Just scrub it in, using your nails to really get in good under the coat. Think of it like a doggie massage.”

Kane made a face. He’d rather massage a person than a dog any day. Specifically the female person beside him. He imagined his touch running down her body, over those luscious curves, followed by his lips, lingering along her long neck—

Definitely not thoughts he should be having when he should be helping her at work. He couldn’t help it. Susannah Wilson had intrigued him—even if she had put him to work on the least fun end of the dog. “Doggie massage?”

“Hey, dogs like TLC, too.”

Kane didn’t want to do anything resembling a doggie massage, but he also didn’t want that stray hanging around his cabin, so he’d suck it up and do what Susannah asked. He leaned forward, splayed his fingers and sunk them into the dog’s deep fur. The dog wriggled against his touch, and seemed to almost…smile.

Beneath his fingers, the retriever’s fur was thick and heavy, but it parted easily, allowing him access to the animal’s skin. He gave Susannah a dubious glance; she offered him an encouraging smile, and he dug in, doing his best to offer—

A soapy doggie massage, as insane as that sounded.

Yet his thoughts kept returning to the blond human beside him. Susannah started humming snippets of an old sixties tune, her hips swaying with the rhythm, her hair catching the dance, as if her whole body was part of the concert. So natural, so uninhibited. So different from anyone he’d ever met.

“I hear people find TLC rewarding, as well,” Kane said.

“Mmm-hmm.” Susannah stopped humming and stroked the dog behind the ears instead. “That’s a good girl, Dakota. Just a few more minutes, pup.”

But Kane wasn’t thinking about the canine at all. His thoughts were entirely focused on Susannah. In a few days, the two of them would be at a wedding together, which meant he’d be escorting her down the aisle, then dancing with her at the reception. Holding her in his arms. The anticipation drummed in his veins.

Maybe…he didn’t need to wait that long. He could ask her out and—

His cell phone began to chirp, its annoying ring cutting through the room like a bullhorn.

“Do you want me to get that for you?” Susannah asked.

“Ignore it. I’m on vacation. Apparently not everyone got the memo.” His assistant was supposed to redirect all calls, but a few must have gotten past her eagle eyes. Either that, or his father was already noting his absence. Regardless, Kane refused to be reattached to the business umbilical already.

He had more important things to attend to right this second. Things like Susannah Wilson.

“Speaking of people TLC…do you know a place in this town that has good food? For people, not dogs.” He gave her a grin. “I think I have the dog menu all covered.”

“You can get great takeout at the Corner Kitchen over on Main and Newberry. The owner makes homemade everything, from strawberry jam to mashed potatoes. It’s nothing gourmet, but—”

Kane chuckled. “To me, that’ll be exotic, trust me.”

She gave him a curious look. “How can mashed potatoes and strawberry jam be exotic?”

He directed his attention to the dog again, using the overhead sprayer to rinse out the shampoo, and to avoid looking at Susannah. Damn. Good thing he’d never gone into the CIA. His cover could have been blown by a three-year-old. “I, ah, eat out a lot. You know, all that nonhomemade food. The Corner Kitchen will be a real treat. I haven’t had food like that since I was a little kid.” Actually, he’d never had any of that kind of food, but at least saying “since I was a little kid” sounded plausible.

“Did you have an aunt or something who liked to cook?”

“Something like that.” A maid. Who’d fixed gourmet meals at his parents’ beck and call. And after that, a host of restaurants that served five-star meals, none of which had strawberry jam or sweet-potato pies on the menu.

“What about you? Do you have dinner plans?”

“I’m busy tonight, sorry.”

The brush-off came as fast as a bucket of ice water. Something new for him—a woman turning him down so quickly. That must come with the incognito territory.

And instead of depressing Kane, the words invigorated him. Issued a challenge, of sorts. He had finally met a woman who didn’t know who he was, had no interest in his money—because she didn’t even know it existed. How many women had he met, who had looked at him with dollar signs in their eyes? They saw his money first, and him last, if at all.

All his life he’d wanted to meet a woman—meet people in general—who connected with him for him, not for his fortune. Not for his name. He’d thought he’d done that back in college, until his father had yanked the relationship away, with that all-powerful dollar. All Kane had ever wanted from his father was a relationship, but he’d only received criticism and money. Even now, his father was back in New York, probably in the Lennox Gem Corporation boardroom, raising a holy fit over the fact that he had no idea where his son was right now. Not because he cared, but because he’d lost control of the reins.

Which left Kane free to pursue Susannah Wilson, if he wanted to. If she did date him, even only for the few days he’d be here, it wouldn’t be because he was Kane Lennox. Or because she hoped to be draped in diamonds by the end of the week. Not because of anything other than she truly liked him.

A curl of desire ran through Kane, a feeling so new, it was almost foreign. It awakened a hunger he hadn’t felt in so long, he thought he might have imagined it all those years ago.

Beside his feet, the stray dog, which Susannah had started calling Rover, raised his snout and let out a little bark. “I think someone else wants a bath, now that Dakota’s about done,” Susannah said. “We could always do a two-for-one today.”

“Sorry. One dog’s my limit.”

“You did a good job,” Susannah said a minute later, thankfully taking Kane’s place and allowing him back into doing leash-holding duty. “Dakota’s nice and clean. Maybe I’ll offer you a job.”

“I have one, thank you.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m, ah, in the jewelry business.” He left it at that. No telling her he imported billions of dollars worth of diamonds and precious gems.

“Really? Do you work in a shop, too?”

“Uh, sort of.”

The last of the suds ran down the drain, and Dakota, sensing the end of her bath, began to shake. Susannah tightened her grasp on the leash, and calmed the dog with a few soothing words.

“If you want, I can bring Rover closer, and then we can get that two-for-one,” Kane said.

She laughed. For the first time, he noticed how easily her laughter came, how light the sound was, almost like chimes. The animation in her face brought a lightness to him, too, like spreading sunshine. “Now, there’s a great business idea. Almost like assembly-line dog washing.” She reached over the tub for a giant hose and turned it on, blowing a steady stream of warm air on the dog. In minutes, the retriever was nearly dry.

A teenage girl breezed into the shop, dumping an overstuffed neon-pink backpack into a chair as she did. Her brown hair, tied back in a ponytail with a blue-and-gold ribbon, swung back and forth as she bounced over to the cage holding the standard poodle. “Sorry I’m late, Suzie,” she called over her shoulder. “Hey, Dakota. Hi, Fancy Pants.” She cooed at the white dog, unlatching the cage and opening the door enough to give the dog a little head scratch.

Then, as if Kane was a lesser species that she had just noticed, the teenager latched the poodle’s cage and sent Kane a half nod. “Oh, hi. Who are you?”

“This is Kane. Kane, meet Tess.”

He greeted the girl, but she had already bent down and started petting Rover. “Do you belong to him? He’s a cutie.”

“No, no. No.”

Tess grinned when Rover perked up at the sound of Kane’s voice and darted over to his side. “Seems he disagrees.”

Susannah opened the gate on the side of the tub, helped Dakota down, then led the retriever over to a grooming table in the next room. Kane took Rover out to the front of the shop. With the distance of a room between them, relief whispered through Susannah. Working so close to Kane had set her on edge.

She’d been aware of his every move, of the water droplets on his skin, of the way his muscles flexed when he’d worked the soap into Dakota’s coat. She needed distance from him, from the senses he’d awakened. Most of all, she needed to redouble her focus on her job—and her ultimate goals.

“Tess, do you mind finishing up Dakota and then holding down the fort alone for a little while? There’s only one more appointment left for the day.”

“Not at all.” Tess slipped a Sudsy Dog apron over her head and helped Susannah get Dakota into place on the grooming table, then readied nail clippers and brushes. “Let me guess. You have ten thousand errands to do for other people.”

Susannah smiled, but the grin seemed to droop. “Only nine thousand and ninety nine.”

“Just say no. That’s what they teach us in health class.” She grinned.

“That might work with randy teenage boys, but not when it comes to my sister. She’s—”

“Needy. And you’re too nice to turn anyone down.” Tess patted her on the arm. “I know, I know, I should keep my mouth shut and respect my elders and all that.”

“No, you’re right.” Susannah sighed. One of these days, maybe Jackie would get it and stop relying so much on Susannah. She knew she should simply stop doing for her sister, but that was easier said than done. She’d gotten so used to watching out for Jackie, to being both mother and father, that turning that instinct off was nearly impossible. Susannah took her apron off and hung it on a hook. “Anyway, I better get going. I’ll be back to walk the shelter dogs later tonight.”

“No problem. Me and Fancy Pants and Dakota will put on some Rolling Stones and have a great time. A real party.” Tess winked.

Susannah was still laughing when she reached the main part of the shop, where Kane and Rover waited. “Thanks again, Kane. I appreciate your help today.”

“Not a favor. A deal, remember?” He handed her the leash, collar and dog food she had given him earlier. “Thank you for taking my problem off my hands.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” She smiled. “At all.”

When Susannah’s gaze met Kane’s, a part of him wondered if she was talking about the dog. Or dealing with him. Or something else.

Dating Susannah Wilson could certainly be a great part of his vacation. She was a fiery, beautiful woman, one who had captivated his attention. By spending time with her, perhaps his days in Chapel Ridge would be a lot more entertaining than he’d expected—and come with a few extra perks, beyond a couple of days alone in the woods, time that allowed him to temporarily leave the problems of his real life far behind.

But as Kane left and the door to Susannah’s shop shut behind him, he felt something brush up against his leg. Kane looked down and saw the little barrel of brown-and-white fur, right beside him, a determined stowaway. Apparently, leaving his problems behind wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.

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