by Day Leclaire
In response, Isabella threw herself on top of the dog as though to prevent anyone from dragging the animal away. He didn’t bother to explain that it would take a crane and bulldozer to move the beast if she turned uncooperative.
Annalise moistened her lips, lips he’d taken great delight in kissing only the night before. If she hadn’t chosen such an underhanded distraction, his brain cells would have stayed where they belonged instead of draining out of his ears and puddling on the floor.
“Maybe we should discuss this first, before you make any rash decisions.” She didn’t phrase it like a suggestion. In fact, it sounded suspiciously like a demand. “I don’t see why we can’t keep her until you track down the owners.”
“Is that your new nanny?” Mrs. Westcott asked. “She sounds like a sensible woman.”
With the female-to-male ratio running three-to-one against him—he eyed the dog—no, make that four-to-one—the odds were definitely not in his favor. “I never make rash decisions,” he announced in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “And considering I’m the one in charge around here, I believe that makes me best qualified to decide whether or not it’s appropriate to call Animal Control.”
Mrs. Westcott snorted.
“It would only be for a day,” Annalise stated, sounding far too authoritative for an employee. “Two, at most.”
“There’s a simple way to resolve this,” Jack said.
He thanked the housekeeper for her assistance and snapped the phone closed with a decisive click before approaching the dog and examining the rabies tag. Sure enough, it listed the address and phone number of the clinic where the shot had been administered. He placed the call and within minutes was handed off to the veterinarian.
“I know the dog you mean. Dane/mastiff mix,” the vet said, confirming Jack’s guess. “That’s Madam. She is—or perhaps more accurately based on what you’re telling me—was the mascot for a college fraternity. They weren’t supposed to have her and were told not to bring her back. Apparently, they played several rounds of beer pong in order to determine who’d be the one taking her home. The boy who lost is the one who brought her in. I gather his parents insisted before she moved in.”
“I don’t suppose you have a name or phone number?”
“I do, for all the good it’ll do you. How does the last name ‘Zur,’ first name ‘Lou,’ strike you?”
“Lou Zur?” Jack groaned. “Loser?”
“Hmm. Clever lads, these college boys. It gives me such hope for the future of our country. You can check the home number he gave, but it’s probably a local bar or strip joint. My guess is that when the boy showed up at home with Madam his parents changed their mind about keeping her. Dumping the dog must have been his brilliant solution to the problem. I wish I could claim his behavior was the exception, but if you visited an animal shelter, you’d see it isn’t.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Jack asked.
The sound of rustling papers drifted through the receiver. “I can tell you that Madam is approximately two and a half years old, in excellent health and all her shots are up-to-date.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your assistance.”
“If you plan on adopting her, I can fax you her medical records.”
“I’ll let you know.” He disconnected the call and swore beneath his breath. Now what? He turned and faced Annalise and Isabella, wincing at the undisguised hope gleaming in their eyes. They must have guessed from what little they’d heard that all had not gone well. Or rather, it had gone extremely well…for them.
“The dog’s name is Madam,” he stalled.
“What about the owner?” Annalise asked. “Did the vet have any contact information?”
He didn’t have a choice. He gave her the facts in short, terse sentences and then handed down his final edict. It was the only logical choice and he made his decision crystal-clear and without exceptions or loopholes, question or qualification. And he used his most intimidating tone of voice, the one that left his employees trembling. The tone that had his various vice presidents and board members scrambling to obey. The tone that no one had dared to openly defy in the decade he’d spent building his empire.
“We are going to turn this dog over to the shelter,” he pronounced. “End of discussion.”
Annalise didn’t so much as quiver, let alone tremble. And there wasn’t the slightest inkling of a scramble. Instead she shot a pointed look in Isabella’s direction before folding her arms across her chest in open defiance. “I think we should consider keeping Madam. She might help with certain adjustment issues.”
Didn’t she get it? He didn’t argue with employees. He spoke; they obeyed. “Help in what way?” he argued. “By eating us out of house and home? By scaring my neighbors? What if that animal drives off Sara and Brett? I can barely keep a nanny as it is. Now you want to deprive me of my housekeeper and handyman, too?”
“I’m sure they’ll both fall in love with Madam.” Beside her, Isabella nodded eagerly. “Plus, helping to take care of a dog will teach your niece responsibility.” Annalise lowered her voice, knocking the final nail into his coffin with a husky plea. “And maybe it’ll help with her grief.”
“You…I…” He ground his teeth together. “This isn’t a conversation to have in front of Isabella and you damn well know it,” he informed Annalise.
“Language.”
“Oh, you’re going to hear some language, just as soon as I get you alone.”
“I don’t think it’s wise to leave Madam unattended with Isabella,” Annalise objected, the wicked twinkle in her eye at direct odds with the demureness of her expression. “Not until we know that it’s safe.”
“Exactly.” He seized on the excuse. He pointed toward Madam. “That animal is too big. She could accidently injure Isabella.”
“So far she’s been very gentle. Not to mention protective. And if she was raised at a dorm, she’s accustomed to being around young people.”
“We don’t know if the mutt is housebroken. Look at the size of her. In case you’re unaware of it, there’s a distinct correlation between the size of an animal and the size of its steaming piles of sh—” He broke off at Annalise’s warning look. “Chunks of chocolate, not to mention the lakes of pi—Son of a bi—” It was all he could do not to rip his hair out by the roots. “Geysers of ginger ale. Who’s going to clean that up?”
Honey-gold eyes brimmed with laughter. “We’ll make sure Madam gets frequent walks until we’re certain she won’t accidently leave any chocolate treats or ginger-ale geysers around the house.”
“And that’s another thing,” he was quick to point out. “Who’s going to walk her? We’ll need a private trucking service to pick up all she dumps along the way.”
“That’s the purpose of pooper scoopers. We’ll manage.”
“Not only that, but she’s a lot of dog to control. We live in the city. If she gets away from you she might break a car or knock over a power pole or mistake a policeman for a chew toy. Or…or eat some tourists—not that that would be so bad.”
Isabella began to giggle, the sound the most delicious thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. “She won’t fit in the Jag,” he added weakly, struggling to steel himself against that sweet, sweet laugh. “She’ll knock over the furniture. The house is full of priceless antiques, you know. She’ll probably dig holes straight through to China in my backyard, holes Isabella could fall into. Isabella doesn’t speak Chinese.”
“She doesn’t speak at all,” Annalise reminded him. “Maybe Madam can help change that.”
He couldn’t allow the forlorn hope to sway him. “And the barking. Do you know how much it’ll cost to replace the windows the creature’s barking will break?”
“I have it on excellent authority that you can afford it.” She gazed up at him with eyes capable of melting even his heart of stone. “Please, Jack. Please, can we keep her?”
His niece deserted the dog and flung herself against him,
wrapping her arms around his legs and squeezing for all she was worth. “Aw, hell,” he muttered.
“I take it we have a dog?” Annalise asked.
“That isn’t a dog.”
“Elephant…dog…chocolate-and-ginger-ale factory…” She shrugged. “Is she ours?”
He blew out a sigh. “I don’t see that I have a choice. Looks like we’ve just adopted a Madam.”
Six
Looking back, Jack realized that Madam’s arrival in their lives changed everything. Much to his relief, he discovered that she was definitely housebroken. But she was also a total klutz.
“I’m going to owe Taye a fortune in repairs,” he complained to Annalise as he swept up the latest Madam mayhem. “That tail of hers should be registered as a deadly weapon.”
“You can’t fool me, Mason,” Annalise replied. She held the dustpan for him, then emptied the remains of the lamp into the trash can. “Admit it. You adore Madam.”
He glanced toward the living room where Isabella and the dog were curled up on the couch together. “What I adore is the change in Isabella since Madam arrived.”
To his concern, tears welled up in Annalise’s eyes. “She’s blossomed, hasn’t she?”
“Oh, yeah.” He wished he’d been able to bring about such a notable change in his niece, but he’d take it however it happened. The important thing was Isabella’s recovery. “I’ve also sicced my PI on the boys who dumped her. When I track them down, I intend to explain the error of their ways in terms they won’t ever forget.”
“Good.” She glared with unexpected ruthlessness. “I don’t suppose you have the power to arrange for them to volunteer at their local animal shelter? Maybe that will underscore the lesson.”
“Trust me. I’ll find a way to make it happen.” He grimaced, turning his attention to more immediate matters. “Now all I have to do is figure out how to keep that four-legged disaster from laying waste to my home.”
She caught her lip between her teeth, a frown forming between her eyebrows. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve already done it.” He’d given the matter a lot of thought before reaching a decision and calling his housekeeper with instructions. “I asked Sara to arrange to have most of the furniture and antiques put into storage for the time being.”
Annalise gave him an odd look. “Generations of Mason antiques? You’d put them in storage so Isabella can have a dog?”
“Hell, yes. Trust me, it’ll make a vast improvement. That place isn’t kid friendly, let alone dog friendly. I should have made the change when Isabella first came to live with me.” He took the trash can from her and carried it into the kitchen. “I can remember tiptoeing around that mausoleum when my grandmother lived there, afraid if I breathed wrong I might break some Louis the Umpteenth or Early American Irreplaceable. That’s no way for a little girl to live.”
“No,” Annalise agreed softly. A wobbly smile broke across her face. “It’s not. Thank you for putting her best interests first.”
“Of course I’m putting her best interests first,” he retorted, insulted. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“At first, perhaps.” She offered a self-conscious shrug. “You do have a reputation, Jack. And it’s not the sort that suggests you’d be indulgent toward the vagaries of a child. I have to admit I was concerned when I read you’d taken custody of your niece.”
He stiffened. “Were you?”
She must have realized it wasn’t the most tactful remark she could have made because she winced. “You felt duty bound to take her in, didn’t you?”
He couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”
He watched her choose her words with care. “Some in your position might believe that giving Isabella a home fulfilled that duty. A more unfeeling man would turn her over to a nanny with a clear conscience and go back to business as usual.”
An arctic wind blew across his soul. “Most who know me would describe me as just that sort of man. It’s who my father raised me to be.” Why couldn’t she see that? Couldn’t she sense the coldness in him, the absence of any ability to love? He was driven to ask, needed to see himself through her eyes. “What makes you think I’m not like that?”
She grinned, her eyes full of warm, golden sunshine. “I’ve had an opportunity to get to know you. Just in the short time we’ve been together, I can tell you’re not that sort of man.”
“You’re wrong. I’m exactly that sort of man.” He couldn’t explain why he was driven to argue the point, other than he needed her to face reality, to see him for who and what he was. “That’s why I hired you. I wanted someone who could take care of my niece, leaving me free to get back to living my life on my terms.”
She waved his confession aside as thought it were of no concern. “Maybe at first. But as soon as you set eyes on your niece, you changed your mind. You’re happy to take an active role in Isabella’s life.”
“I am?”
Her grin widened. “You’re here, aren’t you? And you’ve told me you’ll do whatever it takes to retain custody of her. Why do you think you’re doing that? It’s because you’re a softy at heart.”
“That’s a damn lie. You take it back right now.”
She swept him a mocking bow. “Of course, Mr. Mason. I absolutely take it back. After all, you’re only a man who’s taken in his niece when she had no one else, taken a leave of absence from a multi-billion-dollar company in order to spend time with her, adopted a stray dog, stripped his possessions from his house to accommodate said dog and niece. Why, I’ve never met anyone more deserving of the name Scrooge.”
“That’s me. Just call me Ebenezer.”
Annalise shot him a sparkling look. “So, tell me, Eb. Is there anything you wouldn’t do for Isabella?”
“No, there isn’t.” Time to turn the tables. “But I suspect the eventual question will be…Is there anything you wouldn’t do?”
Annalise’s amusement faded. “What do you mean?”
“One of these days I’m going to ask you for a favor that will help my niece,” he warned. “I just wonder how you’ll answer when that time comes.”
She didn’t hesitate. “That’s easy.” To his surprise, she returned his gaze with one weighted with grim determination. “I’ll do whatever it takes, too.”
He nodded in satisfaction. “Good answer. And just so you know…” He leaned in. Unable to help himself, he brushed her mouth with his, reveling in the brief flash of heat. “I intend to hold you to that promise.”
Their remaining days at the bungalow took on a surreal quality. As Jack had warned, the dog threatened to eat them out of house and home. Within days she put on enough weight to hide her painfully thin rib cage, though Jack suspected that might also have something to do with the treats Annalise and Isabella were sneaking the dog whenever his back was turned.
The days flashed by, exhausting, exhilarating and filled with warmth and laughter and plain, old-fashioned fun. He’d never seen Isabella so carefree, even though she still refused to speak. Between Annalise and Madam she was mothered to within an inch of her life.
Not that he was left out of the mix. As often as his niece could be found in Annalise’s arms or sprawled across Madam’s back, she spent an equal amount of time curled up in his lap. He hoped their familial connection helped heal her grief the way it helped heal his. Their time together seemed to be making a difference, but he could still sense an undercurrent of sorrow that he had no idea how to reach, let alone assuage. As though sensing his mixed emotions, Madam would rumble over to rest her huge head on his knee and offer licks of reassurance while Annalise watched with her incandescent smile. That smile made him long for something else, something more. Something that would complete their family unit.
But the true breakthrough happened one morning shortly before they were scheduled to leave. The sun had barely broken the plane of the horizon when his bedroom door banged open and the next instant his mattress overflowed with dog, niece, doll and a huge pic
ture book that smacked him square in the jaw as Isabella snuggled down next to him.
“Baby Belle?” he asked sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
She shoved the book into his hands and patted it, blinking up at him with absurdly long lashes. Her dimple flashed. Madam settled her huge head on his spare pillow with a wide yawn and promptly went back to sleep.
“You want me to read to you?” Jack asked. She nodded, leaning her head against his chest. Her halo of curls, still pillow-ruffled, were downy soft and seemed to have a mind of their own. A sudden memory came to him. “This is…this is Family Bed, isn’t it?” he asked gruffly.
She nodded and patted the book again. Before he could gather himself sufficiently to read, he heard Annalise shuffling in the general direction of his niece’s bedroom.
“Isabella? Madam? Hey, where is everyone?”
“She’s in here,” he called. “We’re all in here.”
Annalise appeared in the doorway, her curls as tumbled and ruffled as his niece’s. She pulled up short at the sight of all of them piled in his bed. “Oh,” she said, disconcerted. “There you are. What…what are you doing?”
“It’s Family Bed,” he offered.
She blinked at him in utter bewilderment. “What’s Family Bed?”
And he’d thought he’d been deprived. He wondered why she’d never experienced something so wondrous. What had her childhood been like that she’d never known the pleasure of curling up with her parents and siblings in one big bed? Even he, with his dearth of close family ties had, for one sweet summer, known the joy of Family Bed.
“Every Sunday my mother, stepfather, and Joanne would collect books and newspapers, coffee and juice, and spend the first couple of hours of the day in bed together.” He glanced down at his niece, tucked close to his side. “I gather Joanne continued the tradition.”
A wistful smile teased at the corners of Annalise’s mouth. “It sounds lovely.”