A Puppy for Christmas

by Nikki Logan

  Before she could speak he’d scooped her to him with one strong arm around her waist and pressed his hot lips to hers. The basket dangled from her suddenly weak fingers and nearly dropped—except he lowered her back to her feet just as it might have tumbled to the floor.

  ‘I missed you,’ he said.

  ‘It was only a few hours.’

  He shrugged. ‘I miss you when I blink.’

  Laughter bubbled up. ‘Fool.’

  As she said the word she remembered how sensitive he was to it, thanks to his father’s careless wielding of it, and her stomach tightened with apology. But whatever it had meant to him before, it meant something new now.

  His eyes blazed adoration. ‘Je suis stupide avec l’amour.’

  ‘I’m going to have to learn more French,’ she murmured between kisses, ‘if you insist on whispering it to me.’

  ‘Non.’ He breathed on her neck. ‘I like it that reciting a grocery list in my language can make you shiver.’

  ‘Is that what you just did?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes grew serious. ‘I said that I am a fool. For your love.’

  Oh.

  How was a girl supposed to focus on her picnic when the man she adored said stuff like that? ‘I thought we could have a picnic outside tonight. I unexpectedly find myself with no employment on New Year’s Eve, and we’ll be able to hear the concert from here.’

  Ridiculous how nervous she felt. You’d think asking him on a quasi-date would be a no-brainer, given what had happened between them in the past.

  But still her heart pounded as his eyes dropped to the basket. ‘Is that what’s in there? Food?’

  ‘Multiple types. I didn’t know what you might feel like.’

  His lips twisted. ‘How can I eat when my stomach can’t settle when you’re around?’

  Her heart swelled stupidly. ‘Oh, please. Does that work on French girls?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve not said it before.’ Then his hand slid down over hers to relieve her of the heavy basket. ‘And that’s because I’ve not felt it before.’

  Okay, so it was getting harder and harder to doubt the whole love thing when he said things like that and while such sincerity bled from his eyes.

  ‘Well, I have a basket full of French cheese already. I don’t need more of it from you.’

  His smile graduated into a full laugh. ‘Let’s go. I can pack up the monitoring gear later.’

  Walking out together felt odd, and she realised that the last time they’d walked anywhere together had been that night thirteen months ago. She had the same breathless anticipation now.

  ‘Where do you want to go? The picnic lawn?’

  They could. It was what it was made for. Or they could go somewhere special.

  Special to them.

  ‘Would you mind if we went to the viewing bay?’ There was a bench and a fold-down servery in the wild dog viewing bay that was used for private functions. No reason they couldn’t have their own private party free of charge.

  He smiled down at her. ‘You still want to see it?’

  They’d done ninety-five percent of their job but it didn’t feel complete. The pups hadn’t emerged from the den. She’d give the dogs one more chance before their watch officially ended. ‘I really do.’

  As they locked the night quarters behind them the band down by the river kicked into full amplified gear and Ingrid smiled at the popular dance song. Gabe swung the basket into his free hand and curled his fingers between hers.

  Her smile broadened and her skin tingled just at that tiny innocent contact.

  They walked around the long way, passing elephants and rhino and lion, rather than shortcutting through the staff accessways. The sounds of the riverside band merged with the snorts of the relaxed rhino, the throaty purr of the lions and the excited whoops of baboons. The recorded soundscape of an African wetland which played throughout the exhibit underpinned it all.

  ‘I love this place at night,’ she murmured. Especially this night. With Gabe. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

  His lashes swept down over his high cheekbones as he dropped her an appreciative look. ‘Doubly so this evening.’

  She looked up at him as they entered the viewing bay. ‘Are you flirting with me?’

  ‘No need to flirt.’ He chuckled. ‘You already love me.’

  So true, she thought as they unpacked their picnic and spread the goodies out on a table. Motion sensors detected them and bathed the viewing bay in dim replicated moonlight.

  There was more activity than usual from the pack—probably the result of the thumping bass line coming from outside the zoo. They raced each other around the exhibit and squabbled over prime sticks and old sacks. One kept racing around the front of A-den, making enticing play noises at its entrance, then dashing off, unrewarded, to the other side of the exhibit.

  ‘I wanted to thank you, Ingrid,’ Gabe said seriously, when the dogs’ playing dropped off a little.

  She turned to him, stretched out on the bench next to her. ‘What for?’

  ‘Officially for doing such a good job with the identification and vaccination. I couldn’t have asked for a better watch partner.’

  ‘And unofficially?’

  He nudged her gently with his foot. ‘Unofficially for reminding me of what’s best about what we do. About why we do it.’

  She tipped her head. ‘You needed reminding?’

  ‘I was starting to. My father’s voice sometimes echoes extra loud in my consciousness.’ He nodded out into the exhibit. ‘That’s why we do it. Every animal here is why we do it.’

  ‘And you do it better than most.’

  ‘I could say the same of you.’

  ‘I hope you will when I put in for the primate vacancy.’

  He sat up straighter. ‘What vacancy?’

  ‘It will be announced after New Year. I got a call from the section supervisor this morning, encouraging me to apply.’

  ‘You’re going to?’

  ‘Yes. I only missed out by a small margin before—to some French guy.’ She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘So I’m ready to give it another shot.’

  ‘Two zookeepers in the family? We’re going to have to get a pet.’

  Her gasp was partly disguised under the dogs’ rough-housing, which had moved to the part of the exhibit closest to them. ‘In the family?’

  A hint of colour bled up his throat. ‘In our future family.’

  She kept her eyes on his. ‘We have a family in our future?’

  His eyes grew cautious. ‘Don’t we?’

  Did they? She’d only just found her way back to him. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to share you yet.’

  ‘Not yet. But the day will come when one of me is just not enough.’

  Suddenly she had a vision of a miniature version of Gabe, running around a big backyard, chattering in a mix of English and French. It was as close to a picket fence as she’d ever let herself imagine. And she didn’t hate it.

  At all.

  The tightness in her chest was hope, not dread.

  ‘I’d be willing to consider a dog in a few months. As practice. I find myself strangely drawn to them all of a sudden.’

  He scooted up behind her on the long bench and pulled her back into him. ‘Based on your performance last night, I think you’ve more than earned the opportunity,’ he breathed into her hair.

  They sat like that for long silent moments, both absorbing the import of what they’d just said. A family in their future...

  The thoughtful silence descended again.

  In the exhibit, two dogs took their rough-housing to the den entrance and paid an unnatural amount of attention to it—then unexpectedly one disappeared down the hole entirely. Barely a moment passed
until it scrabbled back out, with Mjawi in close pursuit. She stepped aside at the entrance and looked over to where Gabe and Ingrid sat, instantly identifying the scent of both predator and food. She moved to the top of the den and flopped down there to keep an eye on them.

  The smaller of the playing adults stuck its front half in the den entrance again, its tail wagging furiously. Then it began to back out, and a tiny shadow appeared.

  Ingrid sat up straight. ‘Gabe!’

  The shadow sat right on the edge of the hole, catching its breath from the climb up the tunnel, then disappeared back into the den.

  Ingrid’s heart sank.

  Gabe wrapped his arms around her and tucked her closer in to him. ‘Keep watching.’

  Sure enough it was back just a moment later, with another tiny shadow in tow. A second pup! Ingrid swallowed her cry and held her breath.

  Two, then three, then five.

  Suddenly the whole slope leading to the den entrance was alive with tiny, tubby black shapes, finding their feet and blinking up into the moonlight as their older cousins enticed them into play. All eight of them had emerged.

  The alpha male sauntered over and nosed each pup roughly, as if making sure they knew who was boss, and then he, too, flopped down to keep guard on his suddenly vulnerable offspring.

  Their milk-round bellies were fuller now than when Ingrid had weighed them, and practically dragged on the ground between their stumpy, dark little legs, but they made do and wobbled around in the dirt, sniffing and exploring and romping with each other, and briefly with the bigger members of the pack.

  ‘Won’t they hurt them?’ Ingrid asked, worried by the unevenly matched playmates.

  ‘They’ll protect them with their lives. Literally, if necessary. That’s the beauty of wild dogs.’

  She shook the gathering tears free. ‘That’s the beauty of family.’

  He pressed his lips to her hair.

  ‘I’d really like you to meet my parents,’ she blurted into the night. ‘All four of them.’

  She’d almost let fear drive a wedge between her two families. And she was that wedge. But she was also the only one who could hold the two together. She felt his nod in the subtle move of the torso pressed into her back.

  ‘And I’d really like you not to meet mine.’

  Her snort wasn’t very gracious. ‘And I was so looking forward to explaining the difference between zoos and circuses to your father.’

  ‘One day, perhaps.’ The chuckle vibrated against her scalp. ‘With me at your back.’

  She threaded her fingers more tightly through his and felt a surge of protectiveness as powerful as Mjawi had shown for her pups. ‘Or with me at yours.’

  ‘Really?’ His voice grew grave. ‘You’d come with me?’

  She tipped her head back and met the gaze directed down on her. ‘Always, Gabe. And anywhere.’

  His Adam’s apple lurched twice before he tipped his face down and found her lips. Their kiss lasted an age, and when he lifted his face again his eyes were narrow. ‘Or do you just want to meet my handsome brothers?’

  As she laughed, the sky exploded in fireworks from the direction of the river and all eight pups dived straight back into the den, causing a tubby puppy-jam at the entrance. Mjawi got to her feet, as did the alpha male, but the other dogs carried on romping as the crackle and hiss of the overhead light show went on and bright colours showered down over the river.

  Ingrid stretched up her arms to hook them around Gabe’s neck and drag his mouth down to hers. He resisted at the very last moment.

  ‘Happy New Year, mon amour,’ he whispered.

  The face she adored above all others blocked out the light from the spectacular light show happening just outside of the zoo’s gates, and within moments her pulse thrumming past her eardrums blocked out even the dull cracks and pops overhead.

  She smiled and pulled harder on his neck until their mouths touched, so that he could feel her words against the lips she was coming to love so very much.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Gabe.’

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781460320426

  Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  A PUPPY FOR CHRISTMAS

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders

  of the individual works as follows:

  ON THE SECRETARY’S CHRISTMAS LIST

  Copyright © 2012 by Carole Mortimer

  THE SOLDIER, THE PUPPY AND ME

  Copyright © 2012 by Myrna Topol

  THE PATTER OF PAWS AT CHRISTMAS

  Copyright © 2012 by Nikki Logan

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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