White Picket Fences. Tara Taylor Quinn

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СКАЧАТЬ one of the final women’s games when Montford had been on its way to the championship.

      Which they’d won. Randi still felt a little glow of pride when she thought about it.

      Seeing him from a distance was nothing like being in the same room with him. Up close he was huge. Not an ounce overweight, just muscular. Solid.

      “Dr. Foster?”

      “Please, call me Zack.” He rose and offered her his hand.

      Randi swallowed. “I’m Randi Parsons.” Her voice almost cracked.

      What the hell was the matter with her?

      “Good to meet you,” he said, looking at her oddly. “I followed Montford’s women’s basketball last season. Very impressive.”

      “Thanks.”

      She’d been around big men all her life. Had four of them for older brothers, and ever since she’d been able to walk she’d been able to take on all four of them with one hand tied behind her back. Both hands, if it came to that.

      He didn’t sit back down. Didn’t offer her a seat, either, not that she planned to stay long. At least she didn’t think she planned to. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. And they were boring holes in her.

      “Uh, do I, uh, have jelly smeared on my mouth?” she asked, wiping her lips even though she hadn’t had jelly in years. Or breakfast that morning, for that matter.

      “No, of course not.” His gaze dropped. “Sorry about that. Please, have a seat.”

      Randi sat. She had the strangest feeling that she’d do just about anything the man asked of her right then. A feeling she’d never had before in her life. One she hoped never to have again.

      “I, uh, just wanted to speak with you a moment about Montford’s pet-therapy club. I was told you’re administering it from the professional side.”

      “I am.” He nodded, one thumb busy thumping a folder on top of his desk.

      The man was having the most discomforting effect on Randi. She had no idea what to do with it. Her only consolation was that he seemed to be just as uncomfortable as she was.

      Good. That should make it even easier to accomplish her task.

      “I’ve been assigned to be the club’s faculty adviser.”

      “What happened to Dr. Randolph?”

      “He retired.”

      “Oh.”

      The vet’s blue eyes were studying her again, as though he saw something he didn’t know what to do with, either.

      She’d help him out. Help them both out.

      “The thing is, I know Cassie’s made quite a name for herself with her pet therapy, helping emotionally disturbed people and all, but this club, it can’t have any real impact. The kids running it aren’t trained like Cassie is. Nor am I. We don’t have the psychology background.”

      “There are many kinds of pet therapy—”

      “I’m just thinking that, with Cassie being out of town so much and you having to carry an extra load, we’d be remiss not to understand your commitments and cancel the club, at least for this semester. Let you off the hook, so to speak.”

      “I don’t want to be let off the hook, but thank you for your consideration.” If she wasn’t mistaken, his words held just a bit of mockery. As though he knew she hadn’t really been thinking of him at all.

      Or, at least, only as an afterthought.

      Randi wanted out of this assignment. More than ever, now that she was actually sitting here with Zack Foster. His glance was so powerful, something about him so compelling, her stomach was almost quivering.

      Her stomach never quivered.

      “What good are a bunch of untutored college kids going to be?” she asked, determined to do what she’d come here to do and get the hell out of there. “I don’t imagine they can learn enough about therapy in the five short meetings allotted to us.”

      “They don’t need any training at all,” Zack said with great confidence. “And the meetings aren’t all that short. We take four or five trips a semester into Phoenix to nursing homes there. I provide the dogs, you provide the dogs’ partners, whose only job it is to take the dogs into different rooms and let them do their stuff.”

      He lost Randi with the remark about meetings that weren’t short. She had a very full schedule this semester. She had a new cross-country coach to stay on top of and a budget that wasn’t going to stretch all the way. Plus, the athletic conference of which Montford was a part was completely reworking its policies this spring. And in her spare time, her focus had to be on recruiting for the basketball team so they weren’t a one-season wonder. She needed the gate money or she’d have to consider cutting the women’s gymnastics program.

      Men’s gymnastics had already been cut to give women’s athletics a more equitable financial share.

      “This is all very altruistic,” she said, knowing she should be stating her case more strongly—even while her tongue failed to do so. “But do you really think it’s worth the effort to take a bunch of kids into Phoenix when your time—and mine—is at such a premium?” She didn’t want to waste four or five afternoons on something as frivolous as pet therapy, but neither did she want to bring a frown to that face. She didn’t want to earn Zack Foster’s disregard.

      Which made no sense at all. She hadn’t cowered before a man’s displeasure her entire life. A woman in athletics couldn’t afford to let men intimidate her. She’d never get anywhere. Randi lived in a man’s world and could hold her own with the best of them.

      “I take it you aren’t thrilled with this appointment,” Zack drawled, a half smile on his face.

      “Let’s just say I don’t have time to waste,” she answered curtly. It was the best comeback she could manage.

      And it wasn’t all that good.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “WHAT MAKES YOU so sure the pet-therapy club would be a waste of time?”

      She threw up a hand. “What’s an animal going to do for some frail old person that modern science and medication isn’t already doing? Except bring germs into an already fragile environment? Or scare them half to death.”

      He sat back, hands steepled under his chin. “Germs?”

      She was not going to be intimidated. His opinion of her mattered not at all. Her time did.

      “Everyone knows that dogs, you know, lick themselves.”

      “Yeah.”

      “In, uh, inappropriate places.”

      “They also have the cleanest mouths of just about any creature, including human beings. СКАЧАТЬ