by Caro Carson
“Well, we’ve been properly introduced. And in my case, what you see is what you get.”
She didn’t plan on getting anything from this man, except a bundle of rattled nerves. Which was so unlike her. She’d been around all sorts of good-looking men before and never experienced this kind of hot, shivery feeling. It was ridiculous.
“I see. No pretense or subterfuge with you,” she said as she lifted back one of Seymour’s ears to look inside.
“That’s right, Miss Fortune. I’m one-hundred-percent genuine.”
When Stephanie had first moved to Texas, she’d quickly learned that people put the Miss in front of a woman’s name to show respect. Especially when they were speaking to an elder. But the way Acton Donovan said “Miss Fortune” made it sound downright provocative.
“That’s nice to know,” she replied.
She finished with Seymour’s left ear and moved to the right. Across the examining table, she heard Acton release a long sigh. Whether he was tired, or impatient, or simply bored with her, she couldn’t guess.
He said, “If it’s any help, he’s constantly scratching underneath his neck and his belly.”
“What sort of food do you give Seymour? The dry chunks?”
He named a certain brand. “Fed him that ever since he was a tiny pup. That’s been four years.”
“I’ve never heard of that brand.”
“Get it at the feed-and-grain store where we buy our cattle cubes and everything else we need on the ranch.”
She vaguely recalled Monica saying the Donovans owned a ranch north of town. No doubt he was experienced in dealing with large animals like cattle and horses, she thought.
“What color is the food?”
“Excuse me? I didn’t know food needed to be color-coordinated with the animal that eats it.”
She shot him a droll look. “It’s better to be free of food coloring. Some animals are allergic, including dogs.”
“Oh. Sorry. Guess that’s why you’re the doc’s right-hand man—I mean...woman. You know a hell of a lot more than I do.”
Frowning, she turned her focus back to Seymour.
He shuffled his feet. “Sorry again. I meant to say heck. As for Seymour’s food, it’s just plain brown. You think what he eats is making him scratch?”
“If the food doesn’t have colored pieces, it’s probably fine. But I’m fairly certain he’s having an allergic reaction to something. Which could be one thing or many things.” She parted the fur on the dog’s throat. “See? He has these irritated patches of skin in several places on his throat and underbelly.”
* * *
Acton lifted his hat from his head and leaned in for a closer look at the dog, which put his face not far from the pretty vet assistant. Immediately, Seymour bared his teeth and gave Acton a warning growl.
“You damned turncoat! I’m not going to touch Miss Stephanie, so just quit your growling.”
Stephanie straightened away from him and the dog. “Is this his normal behavior?”
He looked up at her and grinned. “No. He’s just acting this way because he’s smitten with you and jealous of me. He doesn’t want me to get close to you or touch you. See, let me show you.”
He reached over and placed his hand on Stephanie’s arm, which promptly caused Seymour to erupt in a barking, teeth-gnashing fit.
She swiftly jerked away her arm and stepped back. “I really don’t have time for this sort of...demonstration. And I honestly think you ought to leave the room so I can give your dog the treatment he needs.”
Up until a few minutes ago, when Dayna had introduced the two of them, he’d never seen Stephanie Fortune. Not here in the clinic or anywhere around Rambling Rose. She didn’t exactly have a Texas drawl, nor did she have a Louisianan lilt to her voice. Which meant she’d migrated here from much farther away.
He’d heard about some rich folks by the name of Fortune moving into the huge mansion on the outskirts of town. He’d also read a few articles in the local paper about Fortune Brothers Construction building the pediatric clinic and this animal clinic, but he’d never met any of the family. Acton couldn’t imagine this woman being one of them, anyway. Why would someone who belonged to such a wealthy family be working in an animal clinic, handling mutts like Seymour? No, Stephanie must be from a different bunch of Fortunes, he decided.
“Okay, Miss Stephanie, no more demonstrations. I’ll be good.” To convince her, he moved a few feet away from Seymour and the examining table.
She darted him a wary glance, then let out a long breath and stepped tentatively back to the dog. “Just be sure you stay where you are.”
Acton tried not to grin at her, but she looked so darn pretty, with a bright shade of pink splashed across her cheeks and her blue eyes flashing, that he couldn’t help himself.
“I won’t move a muscle,” he promised. “Even if a honeybee flew in here right this minute and landed on my nose, I wouldn’t even swat it away. But then, if a honeybee really did fly in here it wouldn’t land on me, anyway. It would go straight to you.”
A suggestive line like that would normally catch any woman’s attention. Apparently Stephanie Fortune wasn’t just any woman. Instead of glancing at Acton, she kept her focus firmly on Seymour.
“That’s a bunch of nonsense,” she said as she continued to part Seymour’s long hair and examine his skin.
“Makes plenty of sense to me. Bees go straight to honey and I can tell by the way Seymour takes to you that you’re sweet.”
She shot him a droll look. “I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan, but this flattery you’re throwing at me won’t do a thing to lighten your vet bill.”
He let out a good-natured groan. “And here I was trying my best to get a free visit this morning. Oh, well, Seymour’s worth it.”
She stroked the dog’s head, then turned to the cabinet, where Seymour’s medical file was lying open. As she started writing on one of the pages, she said, “That’s good to hear. A loved pet is always a healthier pet.”
Acton could’ve told her that the same went for a man, too. But he kept the comment to himself. She didn’t appear to appreciate his brand of flirting. Which might mean she had a husband or a steady boyfriend.
He’d noticed her left hand was empty of a wedding ring or anything resembling one. But given the nature of her work, she might not wear one while she was dealing with animals. He hoped his assumption was wrong. There was something about the pretty redhead that made it impossible to tear his gaze away from her. Even if she wasn’t noticing a thing about him.
While Acton was carefully studying the graceful curve of her waist and hips, she suddenly walked over to the door and partially stepped into the hallway. She must have signaled for Dayna to join her because after a brief moment, Stephanie reentered the room with the other woman right behind her.
“It looks as though Seymour is suffering from allergies,” Stephanie explained to Dayna. “And from Dr. Neil’s notes, he’s treated the dog before with shots.”
“So what now?” Acton asked. “Can you give him the medicine he needs or do I need to wait around until Dr. Neil gets here?”
Stephanie looked at him. “I can give him what he’s been prescribed before. Or you can wait until Dr. Neil comes.”
“And at this point, we don’t know when that might be,” Dayna interjected.
“I’ll take my chances with you, Miss Fortune.” He winked at her. “Seymour obviously trusts you.”
The serious expression on her face never wavering, she turned to Dayna and instructed her as to what sort of medications she needed for the dog.
“I’ll be right back with them,” Dayna said, then warned Stephanie, “But while I’m gone don’t listen to a word Acton says. He’s a wolf disguised in cowboy clothing.”
“Aww, Dayna, don’t be telling Miss Fortune scary stuff like that. I’ll never get her to li
ke me.”
“Ha!” Dayna laughed and gave him a backward wave as she hurried out of the examining room.
With Dayna gone, Acton glanced at Stephanie, but her attention was riveted on Seymour. What did a man have to do to get a smile out of the woman? Stand on his head or walk on his hands? Maybe she just didn’t like cowboys. The thought bummed him out more than he cared to admit.
“Dayna is joking,” he said. “I’m not really a wolf. See? I don’t have fangs, at all.”
To his delight, she looked up at him and he gave her an extra wide smile to show his teeth.
“I’m quite certain you’re not a member of the Canis lupus family, Mr. Donovan,” she said primly.
He shook his head and wondered why he wanted Stephanie Fortune to notice him. Not as Seymour’s owner, but as a man. She wasn’t his type at all. He liked fun girls who naturally smiled and laughed. This woman was as serious as a judge.
“No one calls me Mr. Donovan. I’d be pleased if you’d just call me Acton. And if I knew what a Canis lupus was, then I might know what you’re really thinking about me, uh, being a wolf.”
To his surprise, the corners of her mouth lifted with something like amusement. “Canis lupus means dog wolf.”
“Oh. That’s good. Because I’m as gentle as a little pup.”
She looked as though she was about to reply to that when Dayna suddenly stepped back into the room carrying a needle, a syringe and a fat jar.
Before Seymour had a clue what was happening, Stephanie had already pulled up the skin on the back of his neck and injected him with the medicine.
“Amazing. Purely amazing,” he said with disbelief. “I’d have to chase Seymour all over the county to do that.” He looked at Dayna and winked. “Does she put spells on all the animals who come to the clinic?”
“Ninety percent of them,” Dayna agreed. “She has the touch.”
Stephanie opened the jar of ointment and began to swipe it on the worst of the raw spots on Seymour’s skin. “Do you think you can do this twice a day? It will help stop the itching and heal the skin.”
“We’ll probably end up in a wrestling match, but I’ll try.”
“Any amount you can manage to put on him will help.” She put the lid back on the jar and jumped the dog off the examining table. “Seymour is ready to go home. If he doesn’t seem to be improving in a couple of days, then we’ll need to see him again.”
She handed Seymour’s leash and the jar of ointment over to Acton, and with the dog walking alongside him, he followed the two women out of the examining room and back to the waiting area, where a payout counter was located next to the check-in desk.
“Don’t wait so long to come see us again, Acton,” Dayna said. “We can always use a smiling face around here.”
“I have a feeling I’ll be back soon.” He glanced around to see Stephanie squatted on her heels, giving Seymour a goodbye hug. Too bad he wasn’t a dog, Acton thought.
Leaving the dog, she stepped forward and handed an itemized bill to the young woman behind the counter, then turned and extended a hand to him.
He wrapped his hand around hers and was totally enchanted by the incredibly soft skin pressed against his, and the gaze of her deep blue eyes connecting with his. Acton could’ve stood there until the cows came home. Unfortunately, she had other ideas.
Easing her hand from his, she stepped back. “It was nice meeting you, Acton. I’m glad you brought Seymour to the clinic to be treated. He should feel better soon.”
Feeling unusually tongue-tied, he stuttered, “Uh, sure. It was nice meeting you. And thanks for taking care of my dog.”
She turned and walked away, but not before the tiny smile on her face smacked Acton right in the middle of his chest. What in heck was going on here? he wondered. First she had Seymour eating out of her hand and now he was feeling like a moonstruck teenager.
“Will that be cash or card, Acton?”
The question failed to register with him. He was too busy watching Stephanie leave the waiting area with an older woman toting a cat carrier.
“Acton! Do you think you can beam yourself back to earth?”
Forcing his attention back to the counter, he stared blankly at Sheri, a young woman he’d known since their kindergarten days.
“Sorry, Sheri. Did you say something?”
Sighing, she gave him a smile that would’ve melted a lesser man’s bones. “How do you want to pay your bill today? With cash or card?”
Mentally shaking himself, Acton dug his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Card. How much is it?”
The amount Sheri quoted caused him to whistle under his breath and he glanced wryly down at Seymour. The dog was grinning happily and thumping his bushy tail. Yep, Acton thought, the dog was still under Stephanie Fortune’s spell.
“Seymour, I’m not so sure you’re worth this,” he said. “But I guess I’ll keep you.”
He swiped the debit card, then punched in his PIN. After he’d placed it back in his wallet, he leaned casually against the counter.
With gamine features and short black hair, Sheri was cute, but in his opinion, not anywhere near as pretty or classy as Stephanie.
“So when did Miss Fortune come to work for Paws and Claws?”
Sheri handed him a receipt. “Before our new clinic opened. She had lots of experience back in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, working with animals, so Dr. Neil hired her right off.”
“Hmm, Florida,” he mused aloud. “Wonder how she happened to come to Texas?”
Surprised, Sheri asked, “Are you saying you don’t know who she is?”
Acton frowned. “Am I supposed to know her?”
She rolled her eyes. “Acton, you really ought to get out of the barn more often. It means Stephanie is one of the Fortunes. It also means that she’s way out of your league, cowboy.”
“Maybe in your mind, Sheri. But I might have other ideas about that.”
Grinning at the shocked look on Sheri’s face, Acton stuffed the receipt in his shirt pocket and led Seymour out of the clinic.
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN: 9781488069505
The Bartender’s Secret
Copyright © 2020 by Caroline Phipps
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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, Texas Book 1)