Page 65 of The Cajun Doctor

“Anyhow, I’m calling Luc LeDeux this morning. We need his legal advice. This situation is beyond my expertise.”

“Mine, too.”

At least she was no longer arguing about involving an outside person. Not that Daniel was an inside person, to her! Although there were times when he wouldn’t mind being inside her.

Oh, shit! Did I really think such a thing? Crude, crude, crude! Rhett would never think something like that. Would he?

It must be those outrageous sex dreams.

Wipe your mind clean, boy.

I don’t even like her.

What does like have to do with sex?

A lot.

I wonder if she’s wearing that fuck-me red-and-black silk sleep outfit.

Another point for the crude gods!

“Depending on what Luc suggests, we may or may not have to involve the authorities,” Daniel advised, surprised that his voice didn’t sound raw and sex-deprived. “The police, ATF, FBI . . . hell, I don’t even know which agency.”

“That is a last resort,” she said emphatically. “Let’s see what Luc says first before we involve anyone else.”

“So, what’s on your list?”

“I have to go to work today. I have a conference call scheduled at the foundation office at ten, and a lunch meeting of the Starr Foods board of directors.”

“Oh, no! Uh-uh! Unless you’re planning on taking all these animals with you, along with Angus and Lily Beth, you’re not leaving me here alone.”

“But—”

“No buts. You can call in sick.”

“It would only be for a few hours.”

“No.”

“The animals pretty much take care of themselves, except for Emily who is very needy. Oh, I forgot, Emily has an appointment at the Pet Psychiatric Clinic in Lafayette. Her depression is getting better, but she still has periodic episodes of crying.”

Has she lost her freakin’ mind? A pig crying?

Good thing I didn’t hit the sack with Samantha. Assuming she would be willing. Which she probably wouldn’t be. Like in a million years. I do not need a nutcase relationship. I have enough nuttiness in my life.

I wonder if Rhett ever felt like this.

Still, there is that thing she did with her tongue in our last dream.

“I don’t suppose you’d take her?”

“Who?” His brain was still back in sex la-la land.

“Emily.”

“The pig?” he asked, just to be clear.

“Yes. To the clinic.”