Lady And The Scamp: Lady And The Scamp / The Doctor Dilemma

Cassie ignored the reprimand and launched into her usual pacing mode. When is this nightmare going to be over? she kept asking herself. She stomped around the room several times, but when her pacing brought her back to face the two esteemed doctors who were sitting on her sofa like stone statues, she brought her hands to her hips and asked, “You’re absolutely certain you can’t come up with any other reason for Duchess’s behavior?”

Dr. Baumfarger sent Dee a conspiratorial look, then placed his teacup and saucer on the silver tray sitting on the coffee table. Rising from his seat, he smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his sharply creased trousers, then lifted his chin until he was literally looking down at Cassie over his beaklike nose. “I’m not in the habit of having my diagnosis questioned, or of making mistakes, Miss Collins,” he retorted curtly. “I’ve told you how to solve your problem with Duchess. It’s up to you whether or not you choose to follow my advice.”

With that said, the man took a step forward in Cassie’s direction. Cassie moved aside to let him pass and made no objection when Dee offered to show the smug canine collaborator to the door. As their muffled voices echoed back from the foyer, however, Cassie strained to listen. “Don’t worry, I’ll convince her” was all she could make out.

“I’ll convince her, my foot,” Cassie mumbled under her breath, then stomped toward the kitchen, heading straight for the bottle of white wine that was already chilling in one of Lenora’s fancy silver ice buckets.

“I’m ashamed of you, Cassie. I’ve never seen you act so rude,” Dee scolded minutes later when she stormed into the kitchen.

Cassie ignored the comment and took another long sip of wine from her glass. “And I’ve never heard such a ridiculous diagnosis in my entire life,” Cassie shot back.

Dee walked over and a poured her own glass of wine from the bottle. “Well, Miss Priss. I guess you’ll never really know if Dr. Baumfarger’s diagnosis is ridiculous, will you? You’ve already made it exceedingly clear that you don’t intend to follow his suggestion.”

Still seething, Cassie attacked the pan of lasagna Louise had left for them, then grudgingly pushed a plate full of the luscious concoction in her best friend’s direction. “Don’t even start with me, Dee. You know full well there’s no way to test that nitwit’s theory, short of kidnapping the mangy mutt from Nick Hardin’s yard.”

“You’ve obviously forgotten we have that terrific little invention called the telephone,” Dee snapped back. “Call the man, Cassie. It might not be as impossible as you think.”

“And say what?” Cassie demanded. “Sorry I just filed a lawsuit against you, but the dog psychiatrist just informed me that Duchess is lovesick. Would you mind letting old Earl come over and sit in the parlor with her to cheer her up?”

Dee grimaced as Cassie’s voice grew higher with each word she said. “Very funny,” Dee tossed back. “I was thinking you might call and explain the situation, and tell Nick you were willing to compromise. You’ll drop the lawsuit if he’ll allow Earl to make an appearance.”

They both took their plates to the kitchen table and sat down, but Cassie only toyed with her food. She’d halfway decided to drop the lawsuit, anyway, but she certainly hadn’t counted on having to call Nick Hardin. Much less apologize and ask him for a favor. Just the thought of seeing him again face-to-face was enough to put her into a tailspin. But asking for a compromise? And one that would undoubtedly mean they would be seeing each other off and on over the next few weeks? Cassie knew spending time with that man would be as dangerous as playing a game of Russian roulette with six bullets in the chamber. She’d never survive it.

Pointing her fork in Dee’s direction, Cassie moved it up and down as she talked. “Okay, Miss Expert,” she scoffed. “Let’s say Nick did agree to a compromise, and that he did let me borrow his dog for a few hours. What am I supposed to do if Earl’s princely presence doesn’t change Duchess’s attitude?”

Dee shrugged. “I guess you won’t know until you try it, will you?” she mumbled with her mouth half full.

Cassie let out a long sigh, then left the table and went back to the kitchen for the wine bottle. After refilling each of their goblets, she looked at Dee and managed a feeble smile. “You realize you may have to go out for more wine. I’ve heard drinking large quantities of alcohol makes it much easier to grovel at someone’s feet.”

Dee’s look turned serious. “No one’s expecting you to grovel, Cassie. But that little dog in there can’t take many more days without any food. I’ll even go with you for moral support if you want.”

“Oh, and that should go over real big,” Cassie quipped. “Nick doesn’t exactly hold either of us in very high esteem at the moment, remember?”

“You’re right,” Dee admitted, polishing off her last bite of lasagna. “He’d probably be defensive and think we were ganging up on him.”

Although she could feel an impending cloud of doom gathering above her, Cassie knew this was one time she had no choice in the matter. Dropping her head in her hands, she let out an agonized groan. “I’d rather have hot needles poked through both of my eyelids than apologize to that man, Dee.”

Dee laughed despite her friend’s anguish. “I know you would, but you’re a tough old girl, Cass. And for Duchess’s sake, I think you can handle it.”

6

NICK TOSSED THE ARMLOAD of dirty clothes he’d collected from the den into the hall closet, then forced the door shut with his elbow. Hurrying back to make one last survey around the room, he made a mental note to have his cleaning lady come weekly instead of monthly. When he noticed a stack of old magazines still peeking out from under the stereo cabinet where he’d stuffed them, Nick used the sharp toe of his cowboy boot to kick them out of view, then proclaimed his cleaning spurt over.

Whether he liked it or not, the den looked as presentable as he could make it, given the short distance his unexpected guest had to drive from her house to his.

Heading for the bar, Nick poured himself a stiff drink, trying to imagine what Cassie had on her twisted little mind. “We need to talk,” she’d said in a voice as sweet as sugar. “Is it too late to drop by your place for a few minutes?”

Nick was tempted to tell her it was too late to talk the day she filed the lawsuit against him, but something in her voice told him she was nervous. And nervous was good. Nick knew it meant that, for some reason, he now had the upper hand.

He suspected she’d taken so much heat from the publicity his talk show was receiving that she’d made the wise decision to drop the lawsuit while she still had time. He’d hoped as much when he did everything but scream her name out over the air. He just hadn’t expected her to give up so soon.

Finishing off his Scotch, Nick prayed the smooth liquid would calm his jittery nerves. And why shouldn’t I be a little jumpy? he asked himself. The woman had caused him nothing but trouble from the first day he met her. He only hoped she wouldn’t show up wearing those damn Daisy Dukes of hers again. If she did, Nick knew he’d be a goner.

Not that having her fully clothed seemed to diminish her power to send his libido into orbit, because it didn’t. Besides her infamous short-shorts, Nick had also seen her in a sexy party dress. She was even wearing a man-tailored suit the day he barged into her office. Yet each time her saw her, Nick found she aroused him to the point that he felt like throwing her over his shoulder and dragging her off to his cave.

At the sound of Earl’s shrill bark, Nick’s thoughts snapped back to the present. Bracing himself, he waited for the knock, then lingered a few seconds longer than necessary before he made a move toward the foyer. “Stay, Earl,” Nick ordered, then made the long trek down the hallway where his gorgeous opponent was waiting on the opposite side of the door. This would be the fifth time the two of them had met face-to-face.