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Nick chuckled, then stood up and held out his hand. “Give me your keys and I’ll see if I can get you out of this ditch.”
“Don’t bother, I’d rather walk.”
Nick’s eyes swept from the shoe in her hand to her one bare foot. “That should be amusing, since you seem to have only one workable shoe.”
Cassie was tempted to take off her one workable shoe and make a neat hole in the center of Nick’s forehead with its knife-sharp heel. Instead, she nodded toward the car. “The keys are in the ignition.”
Nick opened the car door and slid behind the wheel, then motioned for Cassie to step away from the car. He pulled the Lexus forward a few feet, then backed it up, and as if by magic, drove it safely up on the graveled shoulder beside the highway.
Cassie waited until he opened the door and got out before she hobbled in his direction doing a perfect imitation of a peg-legged pirate with a sawed-off wooden leg.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, choking on the word.
“Hey, what are neighbors for?” Nick teased, but Cassie refused to look at him again.
When he remained leaning against the driver’s side door blocking her escape, Cassie made a dramatic production of looking at her watch. “Look, it’s getting really late, and…”
“I owe you an apology for what I said in front of Evelyn Van Arbor,” Nick interrupted. “I couldn’t care less what those idiots think about me, but I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”
Cassie slowly raised her eyes to meet his, deciding she was much safer in his presence when he was being rude and nasty. “Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now.”
“For what it’s worth, I did try,” Nick told her. “I went back inside to explain the situation to the old bat, but she was too busy giving an Academy Award performance for anyone who was willing to listen.”
Caught off guard by his sudden show of sincerity, Cassie managed a tiny smile. “Careful, Mr. Hardin, your bad-boy image is losing out to those fine Georgian manners of yours.”
Nick instantly raised an eyebrow. “Why, counselor, if I didn’t know better I’d think you’d been checking up on me.”
Trapped by her own smart remark, Cassie felt the heat penetrate her cheeks again. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she sputtered. “It’s no big secret that you moved here from Atlanta. I simply read in the paper that you…”
Nick interrupted Cassie’s explanation when he reached out and pulled her to him. She did a little hip-hop dance across the ground when he dragged her into his arms. After kissing her so thoroughly that the cloud walk she was doing didn’t require the aid of both shoes, he opened the car door and guided her safely into the driver’s seat.
Leaning down, he whispered close to her ear, “Now, this is the part where you say ‘Follow me home, Nick, so we can finish what we started earlier on the veranda.”’
Outraged that the oaf would have the audacity to think she would hop into bed with him the minute he crooked his little finger, Cassie pushed him backward, then promptly slammed her car door shut. “No, this is the part where I say ‘You’ll come closer to being served Popsicles in hell than you will to finding me in your bed, Nick Hardin!”’
Cassie tore off down the highway while Nick blew her a sweet little kiss.
NICK WAS STILL CHUCKLING to himself as he walked back to his classic ’57 Corvette, which he kept covered in the garage except for special occasions. Feeling the lower half of his body stir at the thought of how good the angry Cassandra had felt in his arms, Nick removed his tux jacket and noticed it still held the faint sent of her expensive perfume. Tossing his jacket on the passenger’s seat, he slid behind the wheel, trying to remember when he’d ever been so taken with a woman.
He couldn’t.
Cassandra Collins had entered his life like a menacing whirlwind, and since the day he found her standing by his swimming pool, everything about her confused his thoughts and made him doubt what he thought were his deepest beliefs. He’d only attended the fund-raiser in the hope of seeing her again, though he had expected her to be on the arm of the stuffy senatorial candidate she’d been dating. To find out she was no longer involved with anyone both pleased him and bothered him that it did.
Nick certainly hadn’t been prepared for their collision on the veranda earlier. In fact, he couldn’t even remember pulling her to him—only that he had. And once her voluptuous body was pressed against his own, nothing else seemed to matter.
For one brief moment, Nick had actually felt complete.
But is this spitfire attorney typical wife and mother material? Nick kept asking himself as he drove along the highway. Not a chance. She was, after all, twenty-eight and still single, which led him to believe that her career came first in her life. She would probably even be the type of woman who refused to damage her perfect figure in order to give him the children he so desperately wanted.
No, Nick already had an image of the type of woman he wanted for a mate. She would be down-to-earth, fun-loving, warm and giving. And she would love him beyond all reason, always placing him first in her life, preferring to raise a family instead of having a career. Even if he had preferred the social, career-oriented type, everything about the sassy attorney’s actions told Nick she wasn’t interested.
Or was she?
Despite her silly protests, Nick hadn’t missed the wanton look his kisses had produced in those blue-green eyes of hers. Or how visibly shaken she’d been when she finally managed to get control of herself and push him away. As different as they were, Nick knew Miss Uptight Socialite couldn’t deny the electricity that existed between them any more than he could. He only hoped Cassandra Collins would continue to keep her distance if they were forced to deal with the dog issue.
Heaven knew he wouldn’t have any control over his actions if fate kept throwing them together.
Nick passed the street address he remembered from the notes he’d taken on the feisty female and caught a glimpse of taillights turning into a driveway. He was tempted to follow her home and try his luck again, but this woman had a strange power over him Nick couldn’t fully explain.
She’d even invaded his thoughts to the point that Nick was afraid he was developing a conscience. Rarely, if ever, had he apologized to anyone for his brusque behavior. Yet, he’d apologized to her without a second thought. And the fact that he’d apologized so easily scared him more than he cared to admit.
Turning into his driveway, Nick punched the remote button for his garage door opener, then guided the Corvette into the safety of the garage. Grabbing his tux jacket from the seat beside him, he brought the jacket close to his face and took another deep whiff of her intoxicating perfume.
And then he laughed.
Despite the havoc the woman was currently wreaking on his emotions, Nick couldn’t help but enjoy the mental picture that kept flashing through his mind of the captivating Miss Collins running naked through a fiery ring of hellfire and brimstone to hand him the multiflavored Popsicle she held in her outstretched hand.
4
CASSIE LEANED CLOSE to the blurred ultrasound screen, thinking that the squiggly image on the monitor was probably what her brain looked like on this particular Saturday morning. She hadn’t slept well at all, waking several times after having extremely erotic dreams involving the man who was responsible for getting her into this mess in the first place.
“Bingo,” Dee Bishop chirped as she moved a tubelike instrument across Duchess’s furry stomach.
“Please tell me you’re referring to a parlor game, and not a name for a puppy,” Cassie gasped.
“Sorry, old girl, but it looks like you’re going to be Auntie Cassie after all,” Dee assured her.
“Look again,” Cassie demanded. “You’ve made a mistake.”
Dee shook her head adamantly. Using the mouse on the computer to draw a circle around a small mass Cassie thought resembled a bowl of Jell-O, she pointed to the vague object. “I don’t have to look again, Cass. I see at least two puppies here. There could even be a third one hiding behind the others.”
Restraining herself from smashing her fist through the expensive screen, Cassie began pacing around the examining room. “God, Dee, this can’t be happening. What am I going to do now?”
Dee switched off the screen and wiped a mass of gooey jell from Duchess’s fur with a gauze square. “Well, for one thing you’re going to give this little cutie the attention she deserves while she’s carrying her puppies,” Dee announced. “Once they arrive, Duchess can take care of everything else herself.”
“You know what I mean,” Cassie snapped.
Taking a doggy treat from a canister on the counter, Dee rewarded Duchess for her cooperation during the test. “No, I don’t know what you mean. You’ve been obsessing over this ordeal for over two weeks now, Cassie, and I really can’t understand what you’re so upset about.”
“Does Lenora’s wrath ring a bell?”
“Oh, please. Lenora will get over it,” Dee scoffed as she placed Duchess back in her crate. “Besides,” she added, “Duchess isn’t the first champion to whelp a litter of mongrel pups, and her little indiscretion can’t take away the title she earned at Westminster.”
“But what about all those endorsements Lenora’s been bragging about all over town?” Cassie quizzed.
Dee rolled her eyes. “You of all people know how your mother likes to exaggerate. Lenora may get a few requests from suppliers wanting to use Duchess’s picture to promote their products, but the pictures they’ll want are the ones taken at Westminster. Duchess’s real earning power will come from providing champion breeding stock.”
Cassie slumped onto Dee’s examining stool. “Current litter excepted, of course.” Cassie grumbled.
Dee sighed. “Yes, current litter excepted, but it’s the current litter that we have to be concerned about now. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to examine the male. I hope you took my advice and patched things up with Nick Hardin.”
Cassie winced. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard about the horrible episode he created at the Grove Park Inn last night.”
Dee raised an eyebrow in Cassie’s direction, then listened intently as Cassie recounted the entire gruesome story. And Cassie wasn’t the least bit impressed when her best friend burst out laughing.
“Oh, come on, Cassie. You have to admit it’s hysterically funny. I’d have given anything to see the look on Evelyn Van Arbor’s face.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny to me,” Cassie argued. “And it isn’t funny that everyone in Biltmore Forest thinks I’m carrying that idiot’s child, either.”
Dee’s mouth twisted in a knowing smile. “You can call Nick all the names you want, Cass, but you can’t fool me. You have the major hots for this guy, and from what you just told me the feeling seems to be mutual.”
Cassie blushed, thinking about the scoundrel’s warm lips against her neck and the toe-curling kiss he gave her by the side of the road. “I’ve never met anyone like him, Dee. He makes me swoon one minute and infuriates me the next. It’s like having a crush on Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
“Sounds serious to me,” Dee teased.
“Seriously dangerous,” Cassie said, and sighed.
“Well, you can’t stay a virgin the rest of your life, silly,” Dee goaded. “Maybe if you let Dr. Jekyll jump your hide, you’ll find out you like him just the way he is.”
“You know I’m not a virgin, Dee. You were in the other room swapping spit with that oily-haired geek who gave you mono.”
Dee laughed. “I take it you’re referring to our senior year at summer camp?”
“No, I’m referring to the most horrible two seconds of my life,” Cassie groaned.
“Sorry, my friend, but that little disaster doesn’t qualify you as being totally devirginized. You need a real man to show you what it means to be a woman, Cass. And from where I’m standing I think you’ve already found him.”
“And wouldn’t Lenora be pleased if I came home with some motorcycle-riding moron on my arm?” Cassie sneered.
Dee frowned. “When are you going to get a real life and stop worrying about what your mother wants, Cassie? Geez, you’re twenty-eight years old and you still let Lenora call all the shots. This man is educated, he’s funny, not to mention being gorgeous. What more do you want?”
Tired of the lecture, Cassie placed her hands to her temples and tried to massage away the tension headache that had grown to a monumental roar inside her head. “I don’t know what I want, Dee, but I just can’t deal with Nick Hardin right now. If you really have to examine his mutt, you call him.”
“Okay. I can do that,” Dee agreed. “I’ll call him at the radio station first thing Monday morning.”
“And I wasn’t kidding about you sending him an itemized bill for Duchess’s care. Including this ultrasound you just did,” Cassie added.
“That certainly won’t score you any points with the guy,” Dee grumbled. “The ultrasound alone runs close to a thousand dollars. And if you add in all the other charges, including my treating the champion sire for the big bite Duchess took out of his nose…”
“I don’t need a rundown of the charges, Dee,” Cassie interrupted. “And I’m not trying to score any points with Nick Hardin. His cur is responsible for this mess. The least he can do is pick up the tab for the trouble he’s caused me.”
Throwing her hands up in defeat, Dee grabbed a notepad from the counter and began scribbling across the page. “Fine. But I’m writing down some instructions for the special diet I want Duchess on while she’s carrying the puppies. She’s hardly eaten a thing since she’s been here and it’s extremely important for her to have the proper nutrition during her gestation period. She’ll also need to be exercised regularly, at least three times a day….”
“Hel-lo,” Cassie interrupted. “Have you forgotten that I put in twelve hours a day at the office? What do you expect me to do, Dee? Take a family leave of absence until the puppies are born?”
Dee paused. “I’d say you could leave Duchess here, but I don’t think it’s wise, Cass. Dogs occasionally get depressed when they’re left in a kennel for long periods of time. That’s probably what’s causing her poor appetite now. I really think she’ll do much better at home.”
“And who’s supposed to baby-sit her all day?” Cassie demanded.
Dee thought for a moment. “You can always call her trainer. I’m sure John’s recovered enough now to help out, but he sure isn’t going to be pleased about her current condition.”
“Absolutely not,” Cassie argued, shaking her head. “John has five other dogs that he boards on a regular basis. Duchess won’t get any special attention if she’s put back in that situation.”
“Then, what about Louise?”
Cassie paused, thinking about the woman who’d been the closest thing Cassie ever had to a grandmother. “I guess I could ask her to come every day and stay until I get home. But only if you really think it’s necessary.”
“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t think it was necessary,” Dee insisted. “We can’t afford to take any chances with Duchess’s health now. Especially since she may have trouble whelping these off-brand puppies.”
Making a mental note that Louise’s salary would be another bill she would forward straight to Nick, Cassie nodded in agreement. “I’ll call her tonight and arrange things.”
“Good,” Dee said, handing Cassie the page of instructions. “I want you to call me if Duchess’s appetite doesn’t improve, or if you notice even the slightest change in her behavior.”
“I may have to call you from the emergency ward when Nick gets your bill,” Cassie mumbled.
Dee laughed. “Well, if nothing else, I think it’s safe to say that it won’t be boring in Biltmore Forest for the next few months.”
Cassie frowned, longing for the days when things were boring. Days when she didn’t know that one glance from a particular scoundrel could make her pulse race faster than a locomotive. And nights when her dreams weren’t invaded with visions of her and that same outlaw entwined in every position outlined in the Kama Sutra.
Dee headed for the door, but stopped when she noticed Cassie’s forlorn expression. “Hey, cheer up, Cass. You are okay, aren’t you?”
“I’m okay,” Cassie lied as she lifted Duchess’s crate off the examining table.
But as Cassie followed Dee out the door, she wondered if she’d ever really be okay again, now that Nick Hardin had kissed her senseless.
“GOT A MINUTE, NICK?”
Leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk, Nick motioned for the station manager to enter his office. When the man walked through the door, Nick swung his feet to the floor and returned to a sitting position, still thinking about the informative call he’d received from a Dr. Dee Bishop some thirty minutes earlier.
“I’ve been looking over your rough draft for tomorrow’s program, Nick,” the man said, bringing Nick’s attention back to the present.
“Cut to the chase, Bob,” Nick growled. “What’s the problem?”
The bald man took a pencil from behind his ear and began tapping it against the printout he was holding in his hand. “I guess I’m just a little puzzled.”
“About what?”
“About your show over the last two weeks, Nick. What’s happened to the spice? The wit? Hell, you haven’t even included any of your trademark lawyer jokes in your monologue lately.”
Nick flinched, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t found those jokes so funny since he’d tangled with a certain long-legged attorney. “You can run anything into the ground, Bob. I’m sure my listeners were getting tired of my attack on lawyers. It was time for a change.”
“And you think this mumbo-jumbo about Congress passing a law to make gossip a felony is funny?” the editor demanded. “Hell, you’re attacking just about everybody on the planet.”
Nick shifted in his chair, then sent his boss an angry glare. “So, it’s okay to attack lawyers, just leave the gossips alone, right?”
Nick watched as his boss’s ears turned a light shade of pink. “Hell, boy, you’d better stop and think who it is you’re attacking. Those faithful listeners out there are mainly just regular people, going off to work every morning and depending on you to lighten their mood and give them something to chat about at the water cooler. It’s your humor that’s got you this far, son. Don’t throw that success away by attacking the little guy.”
“And you learned that in Broadcasting 101, I suppose.”
