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Standing, she clutched a stack of files to her chest, the dog leashes still trailing from her grip. “That’s understandable.”
“So you’re not going to threaten to leave again?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
She chewed her lip for an instant before responding, “If you keep being honest with me, I will stay.”
“Deal.” He extended a hand.
She slid hers into his. “Deal.”
They stood there with their hands clasped for a few seconds longer than a handshake, seconds that crackled like static in the air just before a thunderstorm.
He enjoyed the hell out of a good drenching downpour, every bit as arousing as a blazing fire.
Her tongue slid along her lips as if to soothe where she’d chewed moments before. His body throbbed in response.
She tugged her hand from his self-consciously and rubbed her fingers along her white jeans. “Where’s the first stop on our journey?”
“You don’t know?” He would have expected his grandmother to tell her. Yet, even without knowing the specifics, Johanna had signed on for Mariah. That giving spirit was one of the things that had always drawn him to Johanna, even as it simultaneously scared the hell out of him. Because he’d always known she was too good for him. And too wise. Eventually, she would see through him and leave.
He’d been right.
“My grandmother has put me completely at your mercy.” He spread his arms wide.
She thrust the leashes at him. “Feels more like I’m at your mercy, but whatever. You can start by helping me with the dogs.”
Pivoting away, she strode out of his office, those white jeans showcasing the perfect curve of her hips, her butt. His fist clenched around the leather leads.
Hell, yes, the fire between them was alive and well.
* * *
Johanna gripped the leather armrests of her chair during takeoff. The private jet climbed into the sky and she still didn’t know where they were going. Yet she’d gotten back into the limousine and onto the plane with Stone and the dogs without demanding more information. She’d been grateful to use the animals as an excuse to end their sexually charged exchange in his office.
Although the confined space of the plane didn’t do much to ease the tight knot of desire inside her. The plane leveled out, and she wished her own emotions were as easy to smooth. She sank deeper into the fat chair, its brown leather and brass gleaming.
Each of the pups was now secured in a designer crate bolted to the floor in the back, complete with a luxurious dog bed and a pewter bowl. Engraved nameplates marked each crate and dish. Mariah hadn’t been at the landing strip when they returned. Apparently, one set of goodbyes had been as much as she could take. These past two days had been some of the most emotional Johanna had experienced. The only other days that could compare were when her parents had died and when she’d broken her engagement.
And what about Stone? She glanced across the aisle at him, sympathy whispering through her, mingling with the frustrated passion she’d experienced in his office. Okay, to be frank, that frustrated desire flared every time she saw him, regardless of whether he said outrageous things.
He continued to work, even on the plane, just as he’d been doing when she’d burst into his office earlier. He’d opened his tablet and fired it to life, sitting on the plane’s sofa. In days past, she would have curled beside him, close, touching. Now they sat on opposite sides of the jet.
As if he felt her gaze, he spoke without looking up. “We’re flying to Vermont to interview a family for Gem first.”
“Nice to know you’re finally giving specifics for this trip. Please do carry on about Gem, Vermont and this prospective adoptive family.”
He flashed a quick dimple without looking up from his tablet. “They have a newborn, so they prefer an adult dog that’s already trained.”
“They’re wise to know that adding a puppy is like having another baby.” Sounded promising. “Who’s this family?”
“Troy Donavan and his wife, Hillary.”
“Donavan?” she repeated in shock. She knew the McNairs had connections, but they acted so down-to-earth sometimes their power still caught her unaware. “The Robin Hood Hacker Donavan? Your grandmother chose a former criminal for her dog?”
“Where’s your sense of forgiveness?” He glanced up. “His criminal past was a long time ago. He went to reform school as a teenager.”
She snorted on a laugh of disbelief. “For breaking into the Department of Defense computer system. That’s more than some teenage prank.”
“True,” Stone conceded, setting his tablet beside his Stetson. “But he’s led a productive and successful life as an adult. Well, once he got past the playboy stage.”
“People in glass barns shouldn’t throw stones.”
“I’ve missed your humor.”
“Thank you.”
She’d missed a lot of things about him, which had made her question her decision more than once. Except Stone wasn’t known for his forgiving nature. While he’d made it clear he still desired her, she didn’t expect he would get over being dumped or change his stance on having children. So all this flirting was counterproductive.
“We’re getting off the subject,” she said. “Back to the Donavans, please.”
“Regardless of Troy’s past, all signs indicate the Donavans are a happy couple. But the whole reason for this visit is to be sure Gem is going to a good home. They understand there’s no promise the dog will be theirs.”
“Good.” She nodded tightly. “I have no problem leaving with her if we don’t trust them to take the best care of her.”
His full-out smile pushed dimples into both cheeks, his skin weathered from the sun. “I’ve also missed the way you get fearless when it comes to your love of animals. You never were impressed with my money. That’s a rare thing.”
His genuine compliment moved her as much as his touch and that was dangerous to her peace of mind. “Back to the dogs,” she insisted. She pulled a manila folder from her carry-on backpack. “I have questionnaires for the families to fill out to help ensure they are a good fit.”
He cocked a dark eyebrow. “A meet and greet is one thing, but you have an adoption application for them to fill out, as well?”
“I prefer the word questionnaire,” she said primly. “But yes, it could also be called an application.”
He leaned back, arms along the sofa. “You do realize they could just buy a dog.”
“They could. That doesn’t mean we have to give them Gem simply because they have money. If anything, adopting Gem will show their child that love can’t be bought.” Tapping the folder, she sighed sadly. “It’s becoming clear now that your grandmother was right to send me with you.”
“What if they’re awesome but Gem isn’t a good fit or doesn’t like them? How will you explain it to them?” he asked, appearing to be genuinely interested. “What will you tell my grandmother?”
“Your grandmother will understand. That was her reason for sending us rather than just shipping the dogs directly to the families.”
“And the Donavans?” he pushed for more.
That would be awkward but not enough to make her go against her principles. “I will suggest they go to their local animal shelter to find a forever furry friend.” She couldn’t resist adding, “Hopefully, they’ll make a huge donation while they’re there.”
“You’ve thought a lot through since just yesterday.”
She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m also trusting you to roll out that charisma to smooth over any rough patches if need be.”
“Somehow I don’t think you’re complimenting me.”
Were his feelings really hurt? He seemed so confident most—all—of the time. She unbuckled and walked across the aisle to sit beside him and oops, she hadn’t given much thought to the fact that his arms were extended along the couch, which in effect put his arm around her.
She held herself upright to keep from leaning into his hold. “Why don’t you just keep Gem? Didn’t some client give him to you?”
“He’s not really mine. He may have been given to me, but he always preferred my grandmother.” He picked up a lock of her hair. “Truth is, Gem was a gift from a guy who had the hots for my grandmother and was trying to wrangle an in with the family, since she loves dogs.”
“Run that by me again?” How had she not known that?
“After my grandfather died of a heart attack, a lot of guys made moves on Gran,” he said darkly. “She was a rich widow. Pretty. Guys were lining up. Some were genuine,” he conceded. “Some were fortune hunters.”
“Yet she never remarried.”
“She says no one matches up to my grandfather.”
