The Secret Seduction. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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СКАЧАТЬ later,” Fletcher told Lily lazily and smiled as her cheeks pinkened all the more. “I’ll introduce you to your new best friend,” he promised.

      “Don’t hold your breath.”

      Fletcher merely kept smiling and didn’t elaborate. If there was one thing he knew about Lily, she loved a good mystery, just like her grandmother Rose.

      IT WAS JUST CURIOSITY, Lily told herself. That and the fact she had an order for a sumptuous bouquet to be delivered to the Holly Springs Animal Clinic reception desk at 6:00 p.m. The flowers were for the “staff” but none of the staff was there. Only the founding veterinarian, Fletcher Hart, who was looking mighty fine in a sage-green work shirt that nicely outlined his shoulders and powerful chest, and faded boot-cut jeans that did the same thing for his legs.

      Fletcher came around the reception desk and took the bouquet from her with a smile of thanks. “They’ve all gone home.”

      Aware her pulse had picked up at the thought of spending time alone with Fletcher—again—Lily leaned against the counter and adapted the same lazy insouciance he demonstrated. She watched him make a big show of setting the flowers in a prominent place on the large U-shaped desktop that fronted the reception area. “You placed this order, not Mr. N. L. Spartacus.”

      “Well, he wanted to, but for obvious reasons he couldn’t contact the shop himself so I arranged it for him.”

      “And sent that teenager in with a sealed envelope of cash and instructions.”

      “What can I say?” Fletcher lifted his hands in a mock gesture of helplessness. “The kid owed me a favor.”

      “You are shameless,” Lily accused sternly. And sexy as could be, standing there, smelling of aftershave, his shaggy honey-brown hair all rumpled, and the hint of evening beard on his masculine face. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was getting ready to go on a weeknight date, instead of merely ending a workday.

      His expressive lips tilted up in a playful half smile. “I prefer to think of myself as a facilitator,” he told her wryly.

      “I’ll bet.” Lily sighed, wishing she didn’t recall quite so acutely just how much fun it had been to kiss him, even when the proud part of her said she should have been slugging him a good one. She tilted her head, wishing he didn’t have a good eight inches on her in height. The disparity in their bodies made him seem all the more overwhelming. And she did not want to be taken over by Fletcher Hart, D.V.M. Setting her jaw, she forced herself to focus on the reason for her being there. “Why did Mr. N. L. Spartacus want to send the staff flowers, anyway?”

      Fletcher appeared just as distracted as she was as he let his gaze rove over her hair, face and lips, before returning with laser accuracy to her eyes. “The usual,” he said seriously. “N. L. Spartacus was grateful for the care he received here and wanted to show it.”

      “Mmm-hmm.” Lily wasn’t sure whether she was buying any of this or not. She narrowed her eyes at Fletcher. “And then you set it up so I had no choice but to bring the arrangement over myself.” Thereby keeping her from pursuing her bet about Carson McRue. Not that she had been able to get anywhere near the actor that day, even when she wasn’t working. Production company security had the area well blocked off. And Carson McRue, it seemed, was not acknowledging anyone but show personnel. At least for now….

      “Hey!” Fletcher palmed his chest, caveman-style. “How was I to know you’d show up in person?”

      “Because it’s a well-known fact around town that all my part-time help goes home at 5:00 p.m. to cook dinner for their families. I always close.”

      “Okay. I admit N. L. Spartacus and I had an ulterior motive, getting you over here. And I’ll show you what it is.”

      She looked at him blankly. He took her by the hand and led her into the room adjacent to the reception area. At the end in a big wire cage was the yellow Labrador retriever she had seen the previous day. He was lying down when they entered, but thumped his tail in greeting and looked up at them with hopeful eyes. It would have been enough to break Lily’s heart, had she been a dog person. But she wasn’t, she reassured herself firmly. And furthermore, didn’t intend to be.

      “Shouldn’t you be talking to his owner?” she demanded crisply. She desperately did not want this to be her problem and she was afraid if she stayed here any longer it might very well be.

      Fletcher reported in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, “His owner died four weeks ago. Spartacus—we’ve dubbed him N.L. because he Needs Love—was with the old guy when it happened. His owner was in his nineties and Spartacus stayed with him from the time he had the heart attack until he was found by a neighbor, three days later.”

      Lily caught her breath at the horror of the circumstances. “Oh, no.” The poor thing….

      “Anyway,” Fletcher continued, his voice a little more gravelly, “Spartacus just went nuts when they tried to take the old guy away. He just wasn’t going to let it happen. So the animal control people were summoned. Spartacus got one whiff of the truck that was going to take him to the pound and knew it wasn’t for him, so he broke loose and ran off.”

      Lily pressed a hand to her heart. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Then what happened?” she asked, the tragedy of the situation almost overwhelming her.

      Fletcher shook his head, a brooding look coming into his eyes. “No one really knows. Three days ago, Spartacus showed up again at the house where he used to live, vomiting and so weak he could barely stand. This time the neighbors called my clinic, asked me to treat him. So I got in my pickup and went out to get him.”

      Lily looked back at Spartacus. “Needs Love” was certainly appropriate. She had never seen a dog with such a sad and lonely expression. If only he weren’t so big. And strong looking. If only he were a cat. Cats, she knew. And yet he had his own appeal in that handsome big-dog way. His thick short fur was a pale, almost white-gold, and there was a stripe of darker gold down the center of his back that matched the color of his ears. On impulse, Lily hunkered down and reached out to touch him through the wires on the cage. She could feel his ribs sticking out prominently as she stroked his belly. She wondered how he had survived on his own for four weeks. She looked up at Fletcher as Spartacus leaned over to nuzzle the back of her palm affectionately with his black nose. “What was wrong with him?” she asked, still trying like heck not to get emotionally involved here, as his whiskers tickled her skin.

      Fletcher shrugged, his emotions as tightly under wraps as hers were on the surface. “My guess is the canine equivalent of severe food poisoning. I think he’d been eating out of garbage cans while he was on the lam and got something particularly nasty, which isn’t surprising in the summer heat. Bacteria grows like wildfire. Anyway, he’s on the mend now, and I’ve got to find a new home for him.” The playful grin was back on Fletcher’s face as their eyes meshed again. “I spoke to him about it this morning and he told me he kind of fancied the pretty blonde who had been in here hassling me yesterday, so I promised N.L. I’d propose pet adoption to you.”

      Very funny. And designed to pull on my heartstrings. “He can’t talk,” Lily pointed out.

      “Come on.” Fletcher assumed the boldly enthusiastic tone of an aggressive salesperson. “Look at those big brown eyes and tell me you don’t know what he’s thinking.”

      That was the problem—Lily did. And it was breaking her heart to admit she was not the person for the job. A dog like Spartacus needed someone СКАЧАТЬ