Sanctuary Cove

If only her life was as tough as Max’s, Emma mused with a weak smile as she started up her laptop and opened the brand-proposal document. She sipped her coffee while she reviewed what she’d already done. Getting to the end of the document, she placed her mug on the coaster with more force than she’d intended, the smacking sound startling Max.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said to him and tried to tamp down her frustration.

The proposal was mediocre at best. It lacked originality and pizzazz. Thank goodness she didn’t have to have it complete until the end of the month.

Maybe Richard had been right, and she just wasn’t suited to work in her chosen field—even on a part-time basis and without final creative approval.

Had she ever been good at it? she wondered.

Yeah. Sure, she tried to bolster herself. She’d been in demand, had been promoted several times at Tyson, Myers and Smith until she’d reached the highest position she could without becoming a full partner. She’d been recognized with an award—communications professional of the year—twice!

But now...

She stared at the computer screen. She’d been insistent with the owner of Pinnacle Communications that she didn’t want her name associated with the work. She’d do it on a ghostwriting basis.

If that wasn’t an indication of lack of confidence in her abilities, what was?

The owner had agreed to her condition without much discussion. He’d said it was because he wanted her on board regardless. Staring at her screen, Emma decided to start fresh rather than fix the stale ideas in the existing document. She tried to immerse herself in it, but soon realized it was futile. Frankly, she had no idea how to differentiate the athletic wear manufacturer in an already crowded marketplace. Instead, she decided to work outside.

She mowed and weeded and pruned vigorously for hours, all the while thinking about Daniel Leighton, Morgan and, of course, Richard, and all that had happened. By the time she stopped midafternoon, she was exhausted but in a much better frame of mind.

She’d been jumping to conclusions. She couldn’t have been wrong about Daniel and what he’d shown her. She was positive that he was scrupulous.

There had to be another reason he hadn’t gone public with the information he had. With resolve, she pushed the matter out of her mind again.

She showered, and dressed in faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt. In deference to the heat, she bound her hair up in a high ponytail. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. While she ate a sandwich, she thought about the injured dog...and the veterinarian.

She considered calling Josh at the clinic but rejected the idea. She wanted to see for herself how the dog was. She didn’t want to give Josh the opportunity to talk her out of it again.

The clinic closed at five and it was nearing that time when she parked her X5 in front of it next to a green Toyota. She was struck again by the size of the building. Granted, it was a combination of Josh’s home and the clinic, but the clinic was a relatively small addition. The main house itself was large and rambling. While there was no obvious symmetry, the wood and stone of the façade complemented each other and the surrounding landscape.

Josh was behind the reception counter with his back to Emma when she walked quietly inside. He was preoccupied with a computer sitting on a side table. The only other person in the room was an elderly lady, cradling a white toy poodle.

Josh dragged his fingers through his already mussed hair, and continued to fidget with the mouse.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Fields,” he said, without glancing back. “I’ll have your invoice ready in a minute.”

“That’s all right, m’dear. Take your time. I don’t mind waiting,” Mrs. Fields replied. She stroked the poodle’s wiry fur and gave Emma a wide, toothy smile.

The computer finally prompted the printer, and Josh let out a sigh. As he grabbed the invoice he’d just printed, the telephone rang. He placed the invoice on the counter for Mrs. Fields to review, then snatched up the receiver and turned. His gaze collided with Emma’s, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Her heart rate quickened and she forced a smile in return. She waved to him, then at a loss with what to do with her hands, she tucked them in the front pockets of her jeans.

Josh greeted the caller, but his eyes remained steady on hers.

She met his stare with an odd mixture of discomfort and excitement. There was no denying Josh’s appeal, but appearance wasn’t everything. His personality probably left a lot to be desired, as he’d been temperamental and unpleasant the night they’d met.

Her smile faded, and she ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. She immediately regretted the gesture, when Josh’s gaze dipped down and his smile turned into a grin. And that grin alone made it difficult for her to breathe.

In what she hoped looked to be a casual move, she went to the display shelving at the far side of the room to examine the pet foods the clinic offered for sale.

She knew he was still watching her by the heat of his gaze on her shoulders and an itch along her spine. She lifted a can of dog food, pretending to examine its label, and listened to Josh conclude the phone call and turn his attention back to his client.

“Here’s your credit card, Mrs. Fields. Try not to worry about Muffy. She’s perfectly healthy and should stay that way for a long time.”

Emma marveled at the charm and warmth in his voice.

“Enjoy the rest of your day and please give my regards to your sister,” he said.

“I will, of course. Dottie should be in soon with her Ginger. Bye, now,” the gray-haired lady said as she walked out.

Josh flipped the hanging sign on the door to Closed.

By the time Emma turned to face him fully, he was leaning casually against the door watching her.

Her heart rate kicked up another notch, both surprising and annoying her. She struggled to not let it show. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“Not at all. Mrs. Fields’s Muffy was my last patient for the day. The clinic is now officially closed. Thankfully,” he added with a relieved smile.

“Bad day?” He looked tired and his clothes were just a little rumpled. She felt herself soften toward him.

“Not really. Just an exceptionally busy one. We were booked solid, and Sherri, my assistant and all-around miracle worker, was off today. That means I had to do all the paperwork, too—not my favorite task.”

“If you’re busy, I won’t keep you. I just came to see...” Emma hesitated, wishing she knew the dog’s name.

Josh stepped toward her. That lazy smile and those warm brown eyes sent her pulse skittering.

“No problem. Our patient’s doing much better today.” He motioned toward the recovery room. “Let’s go see him.”

As they entered, the large dog gazed at Emma with guarded eyes. She remembered Josh’s warning about the unpredictable behavior of injured animals and glanced back. “Is it okay to touch him?”

“Go ahead. Our boy seems to have good manners.” To prove his point, he crouched down and let the dog sniff his hand before Josh stroked him. He checked the dog’s pupils and gums, then moved to the side to make room for Emma.

She knelt beside Josh and held out her hand. The dog raised his head, sniffed obligingly and his tail thumped against the side of the cage, causing a metallic clang. “He looks good...considering what he’s been through.” She smiled up at Josh. He was so close, she could smell the clean, fresh fragrance of his soap, see amber specs in his brown eyes and the faint stubble on his face. Hurriedly, she turned her attention back to the dog. “So he’s going to be fine?”

“There’s no reason he shouldn’t be. His condition is stable. He’s healthy other than for his injuries, and I’m no longer overly concerned about the possibility of infection.”

Emma nodded, but kept her gaze averted. “Have you been able to find his owner?”

“No. I’ve asked around, contacted other veterinary practices in the area, put a posting online. No one seems to recognize him, and he’s fairly distinctive.”

Through lowered lashes, she looked at Josh again. He’d shifted to his other knee and was even closer, their faces only inches apart. “If, ah...” She struggled to remember what she’d wanted to say. She transferred her weight to her other side, putting more distance between them. “I meant what I said before,” she replied. “I’ll take him if you can’t find his owner.”

Before Emma realized what his intention was, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She jerked back as if singed.

“Sorry,” she murmured although she had no idea why she was apologizing.

* * *