Kitabı oku: «Banksia Bay», sayfa 4

‘Sure he does,’ Abby said. ‘Who wouldn’t?’

Honey jumbles. A big cosy kitchen like this. Dogs.

Would Philip like honey jumbles?

Maybe not.

Abby ate four honey jumbles and Sarah beamed the whole time, and how could a girl worry about how tight her wedding dress was going to be in the face of that beam?

Sarah wasn’t the only one happy. This morning Kleppy had been due for the needle. Tonight he was lying under her chair licking the last of Sarah’s honey jumbles from his chops.

And Sarah’s beam, and Kleppy’s satisfaction, and Raff’s thoughtful, watchful gaze made her feel … made her feel …

Like she needed to leave before things got out of hand.

She needed to go home to Philip. To tell him she had a dog.

‘What’s wrong?’ Raff asked and he sounded as if he cared. That scared her all by itself. She pushed her chair back so fast she scared Kleppy, which meant she had her dog in her arms and she was at the door before she meant to be.

She hadn’t meant to look like she was rushing.

She was rushing.

‘Will you take some jumbles in a bag?’ Sarah asked and she managed to calm down a little and smile and agree. So Sarah bagged her some jumbles, but she was holding Kleppy, she didn’t have a hand free, which meant Raff carried her jumbles down to the car while she carried her dog.

Kleppy was warm and fuzzy. His heart was beating against hers. He was a comfort, she thought, and even as she thought it he stretched up and licked her, throat to chin.

She giggled and Raff, who’d gone before and was stowing her jumbles onto the back seat, turned and smiled in the moonlight.

‘Dogs are great.’

‘They are,’ she said and felt happy.

‘Philip will be okay with him?’

Why must he always butt into what wasn’t his business? Why must he always spoil the moment?

‘He will.’

‘So you’ll tell him tonight.’

‘Of course.’

‘I wish you luck.’

‘I won’t need it.’

‘No?’

‘Butt out, Finn.’

‘You’re always saying that,’ he said. ‘But it’s not in my power to butt out. It’s my job to intervene in domestic crises. Stopping them before they start is a life skill.’

‘You seriously think Philip and I would fight over a dog?’

‘I’m thinking you might fight for a dog,’ he said softly. ‘The old Abby’s still there somewhere. She’ll fight for this dog to the death.’

‘And how melodramatic is that?’

‘Melodramatic,’ he agreed. ‘Call the police emergency number if you need me.’

‘Why would I possibly need you?’

‘Just offering.’ He was holding the passenger door wide so she could pop Kleppy in.

‘You know Philip wouldn’t …’

‘Yeah, I know Philip wouldn’t.’ He took Kleppy from her and laid him on the passenger seat. ‘You’re giving him honey jumbles and Kleppy. Why wouldn’t the man be delighted?’

‘I don’t know when I hate it most—when you’re being offensive or you’re being sarcastic.’

‘Maybe they’re the same thing.’

‘Maybe they are. I wish you wouldn’t.’

‘No, you don’t,’ he said softly. ‘It helps you keep as far away from me as you want. Isn’t that right, Abby?’

‘Raff …’

‘It’s okay, I understand,’ he said. ‘How could I fail to understand? What you’re doing is entirely reasonable. I only wish your second choice wasn’t Philip.’

‘He’s not my second choice. He’s my first.’

‘That’s right,’ he said, sounding suddenly thoughtful. ‘I forgot. You went out with Philip when you were seventeen. For two whole months and then you dumped him. Don’t those reasons hold true now?’

‘I can’t believe you’re asking me …’

‘I’m a cop. I ask the hard questions.’

‘I don’t have to answer.’

‘Meaning you can’t.’

‘Meaning I don’t need to. Why are you asking this now?’

‘I’ve hardly had a chance until now. You back off every time you see me.’

‘And you know why.’

‘I do,’ he said harshly and she winced and thought she shouldn’t have said it. It was too long ago. The whole thing … It was a nightmare to be put behind them.

‘Yes, Philip and I broke up when I was seventeen,’ she managed. ‘But people change.’

‘I guess we do.’ He paused and then said, almost conversationally, ‘You know, once upon a time we had fun. We even decided we loved each other.’

They had. Girlfriend and boyfriend. Inseparable. Raff had shared her first kiss. It had felt … It had felt …

No. ‘We were kids,’ she managed. ‘We were dumb in all sorts of ways.’

He was too close, she decided. It was too dark. She should be back in her nice safe house waiting for Philip to come home. She shouldn’t be remembering being kissed by her first boyfriend.

‘I loved kissing you,’ he said and it wasn’t just her remembering.

‘It didn’t mean …’

‘Maybe it did. There’s this thing,’ he said.

‘What thing?’ But she shouldn’t have asked because, the moment she had, she knew what he was talking about. Or maybe she’d known all along.

This thing? This frisson, an electric current, an indefinable thing that was tugging her closer …

No. She had to go home. ‘Raff …’

‘You really want to be Mrs Philip Dexter? What a waste.’

‘Leave it! ‘

‘Choose someone else, Abby. Marrying him? You’re burying yourself.’

‘I am not.’

‘Does he make you sizzle?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Does he? You know, I can’t imagine it. Good old Philip, knocking your socks off. Are you racing home now to have hot sex?’

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’

‘You see, it’s such a waste,’ he said, and suddenly he was even closer, big and bad and dangerous.

Big, bad and dangerous? Certainly dangerous. His hand came up and cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and her sense of danger deepened. But she couldn’t pull away.

‘I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t Philip,’ he told her and she wondered if he knew the effect he was having on her. She wondered if he could sense how her body was reacting. ‘I’ve known since Ben died that nothing could bring back what was between you and me. But there are men out there who could bring you alive again. Men who’d like Kleppy.’

‘Philip will like Kleppy.’

‘Liar.’

He was gazing down into her eyes, holding her to truth.

She should break away. She could break away, she thought wildly. He was only holding her chin—nothing more. She could step back, get into the car and drive home.

To Philip.

She could. But he was gazing down into her eyes and he was still asking questions.

‘So tell me he makes you sizzle.’

‘I …’

‘He doesn’t, does he?’ Raff said in grim satisfaction. ‘But there are guys out there who could—who could find out what you’re capable of—what’s beneath your prissy lawyer uniform. Because you’re still there, somewhere. The Abby I … ‘

He paused. There was a moment’s loaded silence when the whole world stilled. The Abby I …

She should push away. She should …

She couldn’t.

She tilted her face, just a little.

The moment stretched on. The darkness stretched on.

And then he kissed her. As inevitably as time itself, he kissed her.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t move. She froze. And then.

Heat. Fire. The contact, lips against lips, was a tiny point but that point sizzled, caught, burned and her whole body started heating. Her face was tilted to his but he had no need to hold her. It was as if she was melting against him—into him.

Raff …

He broke away, just a little, and his eyes blazed in the moonlight. ‘Abby,’ he said and it was a rough, angry whisper. ‘Abby.’

‘I …’

‘Does he do this?’ he demanded. He snagged her arms and held them behind her but this was no forceful hold. It was as if her arms might get in the way, could interfere, and nothing must. Nothing could.

She was paralysed, she was burning, but she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to escape. What was between them … It sizzled. Tugged as if searching for oxygen.

He was watching her in the moonlight, his eyes questioning. She wouldn’t answer. She couldn’t.

She was being held by Raff. A man she’d once loved.

She found herself lifting herself, tiptoe.

So her mouth could meet his again.

This morning she’d fantasised about Raff Finn. Sex on legs. But this …

If she’d expected anything it was a kiss of anger, a kiss of sexual tension, passion, nothing more. And maybe it had started like that. But it was changing.

His kiss was tender, aching, even loving. It was as unexpected as ice within a fire, heating, cooling, sizzling all at once. She’d never felt anything like this—she’d never known sensations like this could exist.

Raff.

He’d released her hands and they were free to do as she willed. Her will was that her hands were behind his back, drawing him closer, for how could she not want him close?

Sense had flown. Thoughts had flown. There was only this man. There was only this need.

There was only now.

Raff.

Did she say his name?

Maybe she did, or maybe it was just a sigh, deep in her throat, a sound of pure sensual pleasure. Of taking something she’d never dreamed she could have. Of sinking into the forbidden, of the longed for, of a memory she’d have to put away quite soon but not yet, please, not yet.

Oh, but his mouth … Clever and warm and beguiling, it was coaxing her to places she had no business going, but she wanted, oh, she wanted to be there. She was helpless, melting into him, degree by achingly wonderful degree.

He was irresistible.

She was … appalled.

Somehow, she had to break this. Her head was screaming at her, neon danger signs flashing through her sensual need. No!

‘No!’ It came out a muffled whisper. If he didn’t hear … if he ignored it, how could she say it again?

Did she want him to hear it?

But he did, he had, and the wrench as he put her away from him was indescribable. He let her go. He stepped back from her and his eyes in the moonlight were almost as dazed as hers.

But then his face hardened, tightened, and she knew he was moving on.

As she must.

Her mother’s voice…. Keep away from the Finn boy. He’s trouble.

He surely was. She was kissing him nine days before her wedding. She was risking all—for the Finn boy?

‘I …’

‘Just go, Abby,’ he said and she didn’t recognise his voice. It was harsh and raw and she could even imagine there was pain. ‘Get out of here. You know you don’t want this.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Then take your dog and go. I’ll see you in court.’

Of course she would. She’d see him and he’d be back to being the local cop and she’d be a lawyer sitting beside her fiancé, trying to pretend tonight had never happened.

But it had happened. The feel of his mouth on hers was with her still.

She caught herself, gasped and thumped down into the driver’s seat before she could change her mind.

‘That was ridiculous,’ she managed. ‘How…. how dare you …?’

‘You wanted it as much as I did.’

‘Then we’re both stupid.’

‘We are,’ he said gravely. ‘We were. But heaven help us, Abby, if we’re stupid still.’

CHAPTER FIVE

ABBY drove home in a daze. She felt ill. The feel of Raff’s mouth on hers wouldn’t go—it felt as if her lips were surely bruised and yet she knew they couldn’t be.

There had been tenderness in his kiss. It hadn’t been onesided. He hadn’t been brutal.

It had been a kiss of …

No. Don’t even think about it.

Kleppy put out his paw in a gesture she was starting to know. Giving comfort as well as taking it. The feel of him beside her was absurdly comforting.

Almost as if he was a little part of Raff …

And there was a dopey thing to think. The whole night had been dopey, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Imagine if she ever thought there could be anything between herself and Raff. Imagine the heartbreak.

Her heart clenched down. No! Just because the man was a load of semi-controlled testosterone … Just because he had the ability to push her buttons …

She turned into her street and Philip’s car was out the front. Her heart sank.

Philip, she told herself. Not a load of semi-controlled testosterone. A good, kind man who’d keep her happy—who’d keep her safe.

I might get tired of safe, she whispered to herself and then she let herself open her mind to the rush of memory that was

Ben and she felt the concept of safe, the need for safe, close around her again. Safe was the only way.

‘Hi,’ she said, climbing from the car. ‘The buck’s night finished early, then?’

‘Hardly a buck’s night.’ He took her hands and kissed her and she had to stop herself from thinking dry as dust. ‘Just my dad and uncles and cousins.’

‘Why aren’t you having a buck’s night?’

‘Tonight was enough,’ Philip said contentedly. ‘I’m busy right up to the honeymoon. Where have you …’

But then he paused. Inside the car, Kleppy had stirred and yawned and whimpered a little.

‘What’s that?’

Deep breath. ‘It’s Kleppy.’

‘Kleppy?’

‘He’s my dog,’ she said and she had a really good shot at not sounding defensive. Maybe she even succeeded. ‘You know Raff gave me a dog this morning and asked me to take him to be put down? I couldn’t. He’s Isaac Abrahams’ dog, he needs a new home and I’ve decided to keep him. Sarah’s been looking after him for me.’

There was no need to mention Raff again. ‘So we have a dog,’ she said and she surprised herself by sounding cheerful. ‘Philip, meet Kleppy. Kleppy, meet Philip. I just know you two are going to be best of friends.’

He didn’t like it, but she wouldn’t budge; she didn’t budge and finally he conceded.

‘It’ll have to sleep outside.’

‘He, not it.’

‘He’ll have to sleep outside,’ he conceded—no mean concession.

‘Okay,’ she said with her fingers crossed behind her back. He could sleep outside for a little, she thought, until Philip got used to the idea and then she could sort of sneak him in. And for the next nine nights he could sleep inside at her place.

‘And what about our honeymoon?’

‘I’ll get Mrs Sanderson to feed and walk him.’

‘She’ll charge.’

‘We can afford it.’

‘I don’t want Eileen Sanderson snooping in our backyard.’

‘I’ll figure something else out, then. But you’ll love him.’

‘If you want a dog, then why don’t we get a pure-bred?’ he asked, checking Kleppy out with suspicion.

‘I like Kleppy.’

‘And Finn dumped him on you.’

‘It was my decision to keep him.’

‘You’re too soft-hearted.’

‘I can’t do a thing about that,’ she admitted, knowing the hurdle had been leaped and she was over the other side. ‘You want to come in for coffee and get acquainted with our new pet?’

‘I have work to do. I’m not confident about tomorrow.’

He would be confident, Abby knew, but he’d still go over his notes until he knew them backwards. And once again she wondered—why had he come back to Banksia Bay? He was smart, he was ambitious, he could have made serious money in the city.

‘I came back for you,’ he’d told her, over and over, but she knew it was more than that. He spent time with her parents. He worked at the yacht club where Ben had once sailed. Every time a challenge occurred that might draw him to the city, he looked at it with regret but he still turned back to Banksia Bay.

She kissed him goodnight and carried Kleppy inside, thinking every time she laid down an ultimatum Philip caved in.

This dog or no wedding?

This dog.

‘He loves me,’ she told Kleppy, sitting down on the hearth rug and allowing her scruffy dog to settle contentedly on her knee. ‘He’ll take you because he loves me.’

But she’d seen Philip’s ruthless behaviour in court. He could be ruthless. He’d never liked dogs.

Why didn’t he just say no?

‘I’m so lucky he didn’t,’ she whispered and she hugged

Kleppy a bit tighter and then gazed towards the spare room door. Her wedding dress lay behind.

She was lucky?

Of course she was.

She was gone and Raff stayed outside, staring sightlessly into the moonlit night.

Abby Callahan.

Right now there was nothing in the world he wanted but Abby Callahan.

Oh, but there was. Inside, Sarah would be snuggling into bed, surrounded by dogs and cats, dreaming of the day she’d just had—her animals, her honey jumbles. Her big brother.

He loved Sarah.

He also loved this place. He loved this town. But love or not, he’d leave if he could. To stay in this place with so many memories …

To stay in this place and watch Abby married …

But leaving wasn’t an option. He’d stay and he wouldn’t touch her again. Tonight had been an aberration, as stupid as it was potentially harmful. He didn’t want to upset Abby. It wasn’t her fault she was the way she was.

It was his.

He was thirty years old and he felt a hundred.

He hardly needed to see her again before the wedding. His participation in the Baxter trial was almost over. He’d given the prosecutor all the help he could manage, even if it wasn’t enough to convict the guy. There might be another couple of times he was called to the stand, but otherwise he could steer well clear.

So … He’d drop Sarah off at the church next Saturday, pick her up afterwards and it’d be done.

Abby Callahan would be married to Philip Dexter.

Abby spent until midnight making Kleppy hers. She bathed him and blowed him dry with her hairdryer. He was never going to be a beautiful dog, but he was incredibly cute—in a shambolic kind of way. He was a very individual dog, she decided.

He tolerated the hairdryer.

He ate a decent dinner, despite his pre-dinner snack of honey jumbles.

He investigated her bedroom as she got ready for bed. And, curiously, he fell in love with her jewellery box.

It was a beautiful cedar box with inlaid Huon pine. Philip’s grandfather had made it for her when she and Philip had announced their engagement. She loved its craftsmanship and she also loved the wood’s faint and beautiful perfume, stronger whenever she opened it.

She also loved Philip’s grandpa, she thought, as she removed Kleppy’s paw from where it had been resting proprietorially on the box. His woodwork was his passion. He’d made these beautiful boxes for half the town. ‘It’ll last for hundreds of years after I’m gone, girl,’ he’d told her and she suspected it would.

Philip’s grandpa was part of this town. Philip’s family. Her future.

More people’s happiness than hers was tied up in next week’s wedding. That should make her feel happy, but right now it was making her feel claustrophobic. Which was dumb.

‘Do you like the box or the jewels?’ she asked Kleppy, deliberately shifting her thoughts. She opened the lid so he could see he couldn’t make millions with a jewel heist.

Kleppy nosed the trinkets with disinterest, but looked longingly at the box. He sniffed it again and she thought it was its faint scent he liked.

‘No!’ she said and put it further back on the chest.

Kleppy sighed and went back to his bra. The bra she’d paid for and given to him. Yes, he shouldn’t benefit from crime but today was an exception.

He made a great little thief.

He slept on her bed, snuggled against her, and she loved it. He snored. She loved his snore. She didn’t even mind that he slept with his bra tucked firmly under his left front paw.

‘Whatever makes you happy, Klep,’ she told him, ‘but that’s the last of your loot. You belong to a law-abiding citizen now.’

One who needs to stay right away from the law.

From Raff.

Don’t think of Raff. Think of the wedding.

Some hope. She slept, thinking of Raff.

She woke feeling light and happy. For the past few weeks she’d woken with the mammoth feeling that her wedding was bursting in on her from all sides. Her mother was determined to make it perfect.

It was starting to overwhelm her.

But not this morning. She loved that Kleppy woke at dawn and stuck his nose in her face and she woke to dog breath and a tail wagging.

It was lucky Philip wasn’t here. He’d have forty fits.

He wouldn’t mind being here. Or rather … he’d be happy if she was there. As far as Philip was concerned, she was wasting money having her own little house when he already had a wonderful house overlooking the sea.

Her parents had said that, too. When she’d moved back to Banksia Bay after university they’d welcomed her home and even had her bedroom repainted. Pink.

She had a choice. Philip’s house or her old bedroom.

But her grandparents had left her a lovely legacy and this little house was her statement of independence. As she let Kleppy outside to inspect her tiny garden she thought how much she was going to miss it.

Philip’s house was fabulous. She’d been blown away that he could afford to build it, and it had everything a woman could possibly want.

So get over it.

She left Kleppy to his own devices and went and checked on her wedding dress—just to reassure herself she really was getting married.

She should be excited.

She was excited. It was a gorgeous dress. It was exquisite.

It had taken her two years to make.

The pleasure was in making it. Not in wearing it.

This was dumb. She felt a cold spot on her leg and there was Kleppy, wagging his tail, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Looking hopefully at the front door.

Looking for adventure?

‘I’ll take you round the block before I go to work,’ she told him. ‘And I’ll come home at lunch time. I’m sorry, Klep, but you might be bored this morning. I can’t help it, though. It’s the price you’ve paid for me bailing you out of death row.

‘And I’m going to be in court this morning, too,’ she told him as he looked doleful. ‘You’re a lawyer’s dog and I’m a lawyer. I’m a lawyer with a gorgeous, hand-beaded wedding dress and you’re a lawyer’s dog with a new home. We need to be grateful for what we have. I’m sure we are.’

She was grateful. It was just, as she left for work and Kleppy looked disconsolately after her, she knew how Kleppy felt.

Raff wasn’t in court.

Of course he wasn’t. He didn’t need to be. He was a cop, not a prosecutor, and he had work to do elsewhere. He’d given his evidence yesterday. Philip wouldn’t call him back but she’d sort of hoped the Crown Prosecutor would.

There were things the Crown Prosecutor could ask …

It wasn’t for her to know that or even think that—she was lawyer for the defence—and it also wasn’t for her to have her heart twist because Raff wasn’t here.

She slid into the chair beside Philip and he smiled and kissed her and then said, ‘Second thoughts about the dog? He really is unsuitable.’

This was what would happen, she thought. He’d agree and then slowly work on her to come round to his way of thinking.

He wasn’t all noble.

‘No, and I won’t be having any,’ she said.

‘Where is he now?’

‘Safely in my garden.’ Four-foot fence. Safe as houses.

‘He’ll make a mess.’

‘I walked him before I left. Walking’s good. I’m going to do it every morning from now on. Maybe you can join us.’

‘Gym’s far better aerobic exercise,’ he said. ‘You need a fully planned programme to get full cardiac advantage. Walking’s …’

She was no longer listening.

Her morning had begun.

It was very, very boring.

The hands on the clock moved at a snail’s pace.

How bored would Kleppy be?

How bored was she?

Malcolm, the Crown Prosecutor, should do something about his voice, she thought. It was a voice designed to put a girl to sleep.

Ooh, Wallace looked smug.

Ooh, she was bored …

Lunch time. All rise. Hooray.

And then the door of the court swung open.

All eyes turned. As they would. Every person in the room, with the possible exception of Wallace and Philip, was probably as bored as she was.

And suddenly she wasn’t bored at all. For standing in the doorway was … Raff.

Full cop uniform. Grim expression. Gun at his side, cop ready for action. At his side—only lower—was a white fluff ball attached to a pink diamanté lead. And in his arms he was carrying Kleppy.

‘I’m sorry, Your Honour,’ he said, addressing the judge. ‘But I’m engaged in a criminal investigation. Is Abigail Callahan in court?’

Of course she was. Abby rose, her colour starting to rise as well. ‘K … Kleppy,’ she stammered.

‘Could you come with me, please, Miss Callahan?’ Raff said.

‘She’s not going anywhere,’ Philip snapped, rising and putting his hand on Abby’s shoulder. ‘What the …’

‘If she won’t come willingly, I’m afraid I need to arrest her,’ Raff said. ‘Accessory after the fact.’ He looked down at his feet, to where the white fluff ball pranced on the end of her pink diamanté lead. A lead that led up to Kleppy’s jaw. Kleppy had a very tight hold. ‘Abigail Callahan, your dog has stolen Mrs Fryer’s peke. You need to come now and sort this out or I’ll have to arrest you for theft.’

The courtroom was quiet. So quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

Justice Weatherby’s face was impassive. Almost impassive.

There was a tiny tic at the side of his mouth.

Raff’s face was impassive, too. He stood with Kleppy in his arms, waiting for Abby to respond.

Kleppy looked disgusting. He was coated in thick black dust. His tail was wagging, nineteen to the dozen.

In his mouth he held the end of the pink lead and his jaw was clamped as if he wasn’t going to let go any time soon.

On the other end of the lead, the white fluff ball was wagging her tail as well.

‘He was locked in my backyard,’ Abby said, eyeing the two with dismay.

‘My sharp investigative skills inform me that the dog can dig,’ Raff said, shaking Kleppy a little so a rain of dirt fell onto the polished wood of the courtroom door. ‘Will you come with me, please, ma’am?’

‘Just give the dog back to whoever owns it,’ Philip snapped, his hand gripping Abby’s shoulder tightly now. ‘Tie the other one up outside. Abigail’s busy.’

‘Raff, please …’ Abby said.

‘Mrs Fryer’s hopping mad,’ Raff said, unbending a little. ‘I’ve waited until court broke for lunch but I’m waiting no longer. You want to avoid charges, you come and placate her.’

She glanced at Philip. Uh-oh. She glanced at Justice Weatherby. The tic at the corner of his mouth had turned into a grin. Someone was giggling at the back of the court.

Philip’s face looked like thunder.

‘Sort the dog, Abigail,’ he snapped, gathering his notes. ‘Just get it out of here and stop it interfering with our lives.’

‘Right this way, ma’am,’ Raff said amiably. ‘The solicitor for the defence will be right back, just as soon as she sorts her stolen property.’

Abby walked out behind Raff, trying to look professional, but she didn’t feel professional and when she reached the outside steps and the autumn sun hit her face she felt suddenly a wee bit hysterical. And also … a wee bit free?

As if Raff had sprung her from jail.

Which was a dumb thing to think. Raff had attempted to make her a laughing stock.

‘I suppose you think you’re funny,’ she said and Raff turned and looked at her, and once again she was hit by that wave of pure testosterone. He was in his cop uniform and my, it was sexy. The sun was glinting on his tanned face and his coppery hair. He was wearing short sleeves and his arms … They were twice as thick as Philip’s, she thought, and then she thought that was a very inappropriate thing to think. As was the fact that his eyes held the most fabulous twinkle.

Her knees felt wobbly.

What was she doing? She was standing in the sun and lusting after Raff Finn. The man who’d destroyed her life …

She needed to get a grip, and fast.

‘You’re saying Kleppy dug all the way out of my garden?’ she snapped, trying to sound disbelieving. She was disbelieving.

‘You’re implying I might have helped?’ Raff said, still with that twinkle. ‘You think I might have hiked round there and loaned him a spade?’

‘No, I …’ Of course not. ‘But the fence sits hard on the ground. He’d have had to go deep.’

‘He’s a very determined dog. I did warn you, Abigail.’

‘Why don’t you just call me ma’am and be done with it,’ she snapped. ‘What am I supposed to do now?’

‘Apologise.’

‘To you?’

He grinned at that and his whole face lit up. She’d hardly seen that grin. Not since … Not since …

No. Avoid that grin at all costs.

‘I can’t imagine you apologising to me,’ he said. ‘But you might try Mrs Fryer. I imagine she’s apoplectic by now. She rang an hour ago to say her dog had been stolen from outside the draper’s. I did think we were looking at dog-napping—she’d definitely pay a ransom—but we have witnesses saying the napper was seen making a getaway. It seems Kleppy decided to go find another bra and found something better.’

She closed her eyes. This was not good, on so many levels.

‘You caught him?’

‘I didn’t have to catch him,’ he said, and his smile deepened, a slow, smouldering smile that had the power to heat as much as the sun. ‘I found the two of them on your front step.’

‘On my …’

‘He seems to think of your place as home already. Home of Abby. Home of Kleppy. Or maybe he was just bringing this magnificent gift to you.’

Oh, Kleppy.

She stared at her scruffy, kleptomaniac, mud-covered dog in Raff’s arms. He stared back, gazing straight at her, quivering with hope. With happiness. A dog fulfilled.

Why did her eyes suddenly fill?

‘Why … why didn’t you just take Fluffy back to Mrs Fryer?’ she managed, trying not to sniff. She had a dog.

‘Watch this.’ He set Kleppy down and tugged the diamanté lead, trying to dislodge it from Kleppy’s teeth.

Kleppy held on as if his life depended on it.

Raff tugged again.

Kleppy growled and gripped and glanced across at Abby—and his appeal was unmistakable. Come and help. This guy’s trying to steal your property.

Her property.

Raff released him. The little dog turned towards her, his whole body quivering in delight. She stooped and held out her hand and he dropped the lead into it.