by Kate James
Josh lifted the dog as gently as he could, carried him to his truck and placed him on the blanket. “I’m going to help you, pal. Just hold on a while longer, okay?” Time was of the essence, especially if there were internal injuries. He turned to Emma. “I’ll do what I can,” he assured her.
“I’ll follow you. I know where the clinic is.”
He hadn’t expected that. He’d assumed she would’ve considered her penance done and head home—glad to get out of the storm.
“I won’t get in your way,” she said quickly before he could respond. “I just want to know he’ll be fine.”
Definitely not what he’d expected. Josh pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “All right, but try not to hit anything else,” he said, as he climbed into his truck. He immediately wished he could’ve bitten the harsh words back. He wasn’t a mean-spirited person, but there was something about her that poked at him.
CHAPTER TWO
EMMA SCRAMBLED INTO her own vehicle and made a quick U-turn. As she followed the diffused glow of the Yukon’s taillights, Josh’s departing comment registered.
He thought she was responsible for the dog’s injuries! She was more likely to drive off a road and into a tree than hurt an animal.
It didn’t matter what the judgmental veterinarian believed, Emma consoled herself, as long as he saved the dog.
She spent well over an hour in the veterinary clinic’s reception area.
She’d hung her windbreaker on the hook by the door to dry. There was a coffee machine on a counter, and she took the liberty of preparing a pot. She sipped the cooling coffee from a paper cup and listened to the metallic clang of instruments from behind the closed door of the examination room. She could also hear the quiet murmur of the veterinarian’s deep voice, although the words were indistinct. The fact that he was talking to the animal, whether he was heard or not, pleased her. It showed compassion. That emotion was in stark contrast to his harsh treatment of her. Maybe he was one of those people who was good with animals and not with humans, she mused.
When the examination room door finally opened, Emma was on her feet by the time he stepped out.
She observed again—with an uneasy feeling—Josh’s quick perusal of her that she’d noticed at the side of the road when they’d first met. But she also saw the weariness and the unmistakable worry on his face.
He’d removed the baseball cap he’d worn earlier, leaving his dark hair curling just above his collar. He wiped his hands on a damp towel as he approached her, and she saw the towel was streaked with red.
Too much red.
Emma felt her stomach clench. She pressed a hand over it and tried to ignore the blood-soaked towel. She moved forward hesitantly. “How is he?”
“He’s still heavily sedated,” he responded. “I’ll keep him that way overnight, but he’s doing well under the circumstances. I surgically inserted a metal plate to repair the fracture and stitched up the laceration. It looked worse than it was. There’s no muscle damage. There are no signs of internal trauma or bleeding. If I’m right about that, he should recover fully.”
Emma blew out the breath she’d been holding. She took another step toward Josh. “Can I see him?”
“Sure.” He moved to the side, allowing her to walk by him and into the examination room, and followed her. Emma would have sworn she felt his gaze on her and it caused the back of her neck to tingle.
Ignoring the sensation, she noticed the stainless-steel examination table, scattered with instruments, gauze and soiled cloths. Her stomach tightened once more, nausea churned and she quickly looked away. Then she saw the dog through an open door.
He was sleeping peacefully on a thick blanket in the corner of the room, his head pillowed on a folded towel.
Relief washed over her and tears welled in her eyes. She turned away from both the dog and the man while she steadied herself. Once her emotions were under control, she asked, “Can I touch him?”
Josh shrugged. “The sedative will keep him asleep for hours. Go ahead.”
Emma crouched in front of the dog. She reached forward and gently stroked his head. “Aren’t you handsome? And you’re going to be as good as new in no time,” she whispered. Glancing up at Josh, she asked, “There won’t be any permanent damage?”
Josh nodded. “There shouldn’t be. He’ll need time to recover, though. After that he can gradually get back to normal activity.”
Emma turned to the dog. “Hear that? You’ll just have to take it easy for a while, but you’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly, speaking her thoughts out loud. “How could someone have done this to you and just left you there?”
She continued to stroke the dog gently for a few more minutes before rising.
When she looked at Josh, she noted his furrowed brow and wondered what she might have said now to annoy him. Regardless, she was grateful for what he’d done. “Thank you, for saving him.”
“It’s my job.”
Her gaze slid to the dog resting on the thick blanket and makeshift pillow, obviously having been placed there with thought and care. Just because Josh was lacking in social graces didn’t mean that she had to be. She smiled. “I believe it’s much more than that to you.”
“It’s what I do,” he said curtly and escorted Emma back into the reception area.
She retrieved her windbreaker from the hook by the door and reached into a pocket to pull out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No charge.”
“But—”
“No charge,” he repeated. “Consider it my good deed for the day.”
“Oh. Well... Thank you.” She put her wallet back into her pocket and pulled on her coat. “What will happen to him once he’s better?”
“I know most of the dogs around here. I don’t think he’s local. I’ll try to find his owner.”
“Is he a dog, then?”
“He appears to be, but he probably has some wolf in him, too.”
“And if you can’t find his owner?”
Josh’s protracted silence worried Emma. She immediately thought of an animal shelter—or worse. “I’ll take him,” she said quickly. “If you can’t find his owner, I’ll take him.”
Josh narrowed his eyes. “One step at a time. First, I’ll make sure he’s okay and try to locate his owner. If that doesn’t pan out, and if his temperament allows, we can talk about finding him a new home.”
Emma opened her mouth but ended up huffing out a breath. What Josh said made sense. “Can I check in with you to see how he’s doing?”
“Sure.” He lifted a business card from a small wooden stand on the counter. “You seem to know my after-hours emergency number.” As he offered the card to her, a quick grin lit up his face. The sharp planes and angles were transformed with its potency. “My office number is on there, in case you don’t have it and want to catch me next time when I’m not just stepping out of the shower.”
She studied his appearance for a moment. He had a wide, sturdy chin, an appealing nose with a slight bump, as if it had been broken at some point, strong, well-defined lips and perfectly straight white teeth. He was tall, with a solid, athletic build—broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs. The sleeves of his sweatshirt were pushed up, revealing well-muscled arms. The thought of him in the shower made Emma blush.
Their fingers brushed as she accepted the card, and the contact sent a quick jolt through her system.
Stuffing the card in her pocket, she walked to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she held his gaze. “Thanks again for what you did tonight. I’m sorry to have interfered with your evening. I’ll be in touch to check up on the dog.”
* * *
THROUGH THE GLASS insert of the door, Josh watched Emma head back into the storm. As tired as he’d
been after treating the dog, it surprised him that the first thought he’d had seeing her in the reception area was that she was dazzling. In the harsh lights, he’d easily been able to make out the color of her eyes. They were gray. A deep, silvery gray.
Although he had always appreciated physical beauty, he’d never considered it his sole or primary focus. As such, he’d been astonished to feel another raw and powerful pull of attraction—especially in view of the situation. With Crystal’s most recent little escapade, hadn’t he just sworn off women for the time being?
Yet the tug was undeniably there.
Then he remembered something that had struck him as strange. When she’d been petting the dog, she’d said something about how someone could’ve hit the dog and left him. Josh had assumed that she was the one who’d hit the dog. What had he really had to base that on? Having seen her with the animal, her anguish apparent, it was likely he’d misjudged her.
She’d also offered to take the dog. Evidently, there was more to her than what met the eye.
He smiled as he walked back to his recovery room to check on his patient. It occurred to him that he was in a distinctly better mood than he had been before he’d ventured out that evening.
CHAPTER THREE
EMMA’S NIGHTMARES WERE MUDDLED. Richard, with his arm around an attractive brunette in a sundress, as Emma stood transfixed on the opposite side of a busy NYC street. The two of them laughing at her stupidity for believing he’d ever loved her...thought herself worthy of his love. The star-speckled evening gave way to a raging storm. A dog was lying injured and helpless at the side of the road, looking at her, imploring her to save him. As Emma’s anxiety and desperation became nearly unbearable, a tall, dark-haired man materialized through the sheets of rain, dry and unruffled, to save the dog—and to save her. When he touched her shoulder, then ran a hand along the length of her drenched hair and whispered that everything would be fine, she jerked awake, disoriented and breathless.
Sitting up, she reached for the bottle of water she habitually kept on her nightstand. After taking a long drink, she let out a heavy sigh and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand.
Max, her Alaskan malamute, was immediately beside her. His solicitousness dragged her out of the lingering daze of the nightmare. She gave him a hug and, noticing her bedside clock, rolled her eyes. It was only ten after five.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. It would be hopeless trying to fall back to sleep. Looking out the window, she was pleased to see the sky had cleared.
“How about we have breakfast and go for a long run?” she asked Max.
Recognizing the words breakfast and run, two of his favorite things, Max danced with excitement until Emma got dressed and they headed downstairs.
The sun had gilded the sky an intense pink and gold by the time they ventured outside. The air was cool, and she welcomed the bite of it against her skin.
A flagstone walkway, flanked by gardens, made a sweeping arc around the southerly perimeter of the cottage from the back deck to the front porch and toward the parking area. Butterflies flitted and bees buzzed from bloom to bloom. The sights, the sounds and the sweet and spicy aroma of the flowers lifted Emma’s spirits.
A large and fit dog, Max loped easily by her side as she jogged up the driveway to where it crested before it sloped down again to join Otter Creek Road. She stopped and turned back. Her view was mostly unobstructed to the cottage, and where the property dropped off steeply to the small lake beyond it.
With the stillness of the air, the deep blue surface of the water was as smooth as glass and mirrored the wispy white clouds scattered across the sky. The vista from here never failed to take her breath away. It reinforced for her how right her decision to leave the city and move to her cottage in Sanctuary Cove had been.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with the earthy smells of wet soil and recently trimmed grass, before she and Max sprinted away.
It was past nine thirty by the time they returned to the cottage. After showering, Emma called the veterinary clinic. She was told by the woman who answered the phone that Josh was finishing with a patient and would take the call in a minute, if she wanted to hold.
When he came on the line, Emma immediately asked about the dog.
“He’s doing well.” Josh’s voice sounded pleasant. Even friendly. “Were you able to dry out from all the rain?” he asked.
Emma thought of the wet clothes she’d peeled off when she’d gotten back to the cottage the evening before and had yet to toss in the wash. “More or less,” she said. “Is it all right if I visit the dog?”
There was a brief hesitation. “I’d prefer if you’d leave it for today. I want him to get as much rest as he can to regain his strength and help the healing process.”
Emma gazed out the window at the bright sunshine and tried not to feel disappointed. Had she been counting that much on seeing the dog? Or...? No, it couldn’t have anything to do with the veterinarian.
“Are you still there, Emma?”
“Oh...yes, of course.”
“How about a counterproposal? If you don’t have plans, have lunch with me and I’ll update you on how our boy’s doing.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. His offer flustered her. “Ah, thanks...but I’m sure you’re busy and—and I have a number of things to do today.”
“Maybe some other time, then?”
“Maybe,” she said noncommittally.
After hanging up the phone, Emma leaned back in her chair. To her astonishment, she’d been tempted to say yes.
And what had kept her from agreeing? She’d avoided people since she’d arrived at her cottage nearly two months ago. All she’d been focused on was healing her wounds, and her work. What there was of it anyway.
She couldn’t keep living like a recluse indefinitely.
Josh was being friendly, that’s all. But even if he had been asking her out, where was the harm in it? With their house sold and the papers on their way back to Richard, that last connection to her ex-fiancé was gone. Thinking of Richard reminded her why she wasn’t interested.
Feeling her old insecurities bubble up, Emma was in no mood to concentrate on the brand proposal she’d been contracted to do. After she’d been let go from her job with communications giant Tyson, Myers and Smith, one of her former colleagues had put her in touch with the owner of a small but growing media relations company. In-house resources at Pinnacle Communications were at full capacity and they needed help. She’d agreed to freelance for them, but now she questioned the wisdom of doing so. Yes, the money had been a contributing factor to her decision. She couldn’t live on her savings and the proceeds from the sale of the house indefinitely.
But she didn’t know if she had the confidence in herself anymore to be able to do even the basic work that was expected of her. The brand proposal was a perfect example. A year ago—make that three months ago, even—she would have polished off the assignment in a day or two. Fast forward to the present, and she’d been struggling with it for a couple of weeks, and her deadline was looming.
And thinking of Tyson, Myers and Smith, where she’d worked for the majority of her career, most recently as a senior executive, brought her thoughts full circle to Richard, reporter Daniel Leighton and the assignment for Senator Alan Morgan that had resulted in her losing her job.
Emma brewed a pot of tea, poured a mug and settled in an armchair in the great room.
Senator Morgan was arguably one of the most high-profile politicians in the country next to the president, and it was a well-known fact that he had his sights set on the White House. Richard, a criminal defense attorney, had been working with the New York senator to address allegations of corruption that had been made against the senator regarding the award of a substantial armaments contract to
American Freedom Munitions, a midsize contractor. As questions arose regarding the company’s qualifications, one reporter in particular, Daniel Leighton of the New York Advocate, began an investigation into how the company had been able to win the contract in the first place. In view of the persistent media interest, Richard had convinced the senator that he needed outside communications expertise.
On Richard’s recommendation, Senator Morgan had offered Emma’s firm a lucrative retainer for Emma to handle all media inquiries related to the allegations. If the situation escalated to the point where the senator’s reputation was challenged openly, she had also been expected to manage crisis communications—one of her specialties—to protect and defend him. When she’d accepted the assignment, she’d had no idea about the extent of the senator’s involvement. If Richard had known, he hadn’t been forthcoming with her. And—as she’d later discovered—that wouldn’t have been his worst transgression where she was concerned.
It was Daniel Leighton who’d shown her the copies of the checks that he’d claimed were evidence of kickbacks.
Emma’s ethics were such that she couldn’t continue with the assignment under the circumstances. When she’d discussed it with Richard, he’d ridiculed her. After all, he was a criminal defense lawyer. Who had she thought he defended, if not the guilty?
From that point on, things had gone from bad to worse. Richard had felt that her terminating the contract with Senator Morgan would reflect poorly on him, since he’d recommended her in the first place. He’d seen the Morgan contract as a way to cement his bid for a partnership with his law firm, and he’d been adamant that Emma needed to keep working with the senator.