Shed used half a roll of paper towels when the dogs sudden fierce, angry barking made her jump and look out.
Pete was out there, leaning over the fence, his jeaned leg cocked forward, wearing an open-throated shirt as if it were a balmy spring daywhich actually, Camille guessed it was. He was justhanging therelooking at the dog, not appearing remotely disturbed by the canines aggressive, noisy fury.
For just an instant, she felt the most curious fear, as if she should hide behind the door, not go out, not risk being near him again. There was an old Scottish phrase her dad sometimes used. Caawa. It meant something like proceed with caution and thats what she thought every time she saw Pete. Something in those sexy, ever-blue eyes made her feel restless and edgy. Something in his long, lazy stride, in his tree-tall height, in those slow, teasing smiles of his made her stomach drop.
She wasnt aware of him as a man.
She couldnt be.
She certainly didnt want him. She didnt want anyone. She never planned to want another man as long as she lived. But damnhe did bug her.
Quickly, she shook off the ridiculous sensation. Pete MacDougal was no one she needed to feel cautious around. She knew that. He was a neighbor. He was interfering and bossy, for sure, but being afraid of him at any level was absurd. And more to the immediate point, hed obviously noticed the dog.
So she hurled out the door lickety-split. Immediately Pete glanced up and motioned toward the shepherd.
I see you managed to give our boy some food.
Our boy, she repeated, abruptly realizing that Pete already knew the dog. Peter MacDougal! You did this to me?
I did what?
You left me this dog? You tied this mean, godforsaken, dangerous dog to my tree? Why in Gods name would you do such a thing?
He smiled. As if she hadnt just screamed abuse on him up one side and down the other.
His name is Darby. Used to be a show dog. Hard to believe, the way he looks now, isnt it? But hes a thoroughbred shepherd with a long, pretty lineage. The neighborhood kids used to play with him, he was that sweet and gentle
She crossed to the fence, her gaze sweeping the ground for a log big enough to brain him with.
belonged to Arthur Chapman. You remember him, dont you? Quiet guy, lived down Cooper Street and across the creek, that property on the left after the bridge. Good man. Dog lover. But then Art got Alzheimers. Naturally, people realized he was getting strange, but you know how folks are tolerant in White Hills. So they just tried to let him be. Nobody realized that in his own house, hed gotten mean, was beating and starving the dog. It wasnt really his fault. He wasnt in his right mind. Anyway-
She couldnt find a log. Lots of twigs in the grass, but nothing big enough to do any damage.
Anyway, the neighbors finally figured out that Art wasnt coping on his own. They called the cops, who called Social Services, all that. Everybody was prepared to take care of Art, but no one realized theyd find the dog in such a godawful mess.
Youre taking this dog right back.
Nope, Im not. But if you dont want him, you can call the pound.
I most certainly do not want him-
Of course, theyll put him down, Pete assured her genially. They dont have the time or means to turn him around. Actually, Im not sure anyone can. But the pound, for sure, will believe its easier to put him to sleep. In fact, thats probably what Id do.
You son of a sea dog, you take this dog back! I cant believe this! That youd desert me. Leave me alone with this horribly vicious dog!
Naw. Ill give you the number for the pound, if you want them to come and kill it-
Quit saying that.
Quit saying what?
That theyre going to kill the damn dog!
Well, Cam. Thats how it is. I just thought Darbys got one chance left. That is, if youll give him one. He was such a great dog that I just thought, man, he has to be worth one last try But hell. Pete pushed back from the fence. Who cares, right? Ill go home, get the phone number for the pound-
A log was too good for him. She vaulted over the fence, determined to give him what-for. She wasnt precisely sure how to deliver that what-for, but she was madder than a bed of hornets and the how didnt immediately seem that important. She hurled after him, yanked at his shirt, put a wagging finger up in his face, and the next thing she knew, she was in his arms.
It all didnt make a lick of sense. She was mad. She knew she was mad. And whatever emotion Pete MacDougal might have been feeling, hed never let on for a blink that he felt anything sexual for her.
Yet his lips came down on hers as if they had been waiting for just that moment. His arms slid around her waist, as if hed known she was going to be on shaky ground. The sun tilted in her eyes, so bright and hot she couldnt see. She still planned to sock him. Eventually. It was just that right thenshe was so stunned.
His lips were sun warmed, smooth. He dipped down for a second kiss before shed recovered from the first. He was tall enough to make her feel surrounded, protected. She heard the yearning coo of a mourning dove. Felt the damp earthy loam beneath her feet, felt the sliver of breeze tickle the hair at her nape. She felt his heart, beating, beating. Felt her own, clutched tighter than a fist.
Slower than a sigh, he lifted his head. His gaze roamed her face, his eyes dark with awareness, electric with what theyd kindled together. She felt his fingertip on her cheek. His voice came out rough and tender-low.
I knew it was in there. That soft, wonderful heart of yours. I hate to see you hurting so bad, Cam.
He didnt lower his hand particularly fast, or turn around and start walking away with any speed. But still she couldnt come up with an answer before he was already a hundred yards onto his own property. She couldnt talk at all. She still seemed to be gulping in air and sensation both.
Thered never been anything wrong with her IQ. She realized perfectly well that Pete had been trying to reach out a hand to her ever since shed come home, but shed assumed it was a neighborly hand. Shed never expectedkisses. Shed never expected to feel his heart thundering against hers, to see the stark shine of desire in his eyes, to feel his body rousing because of their closeness.
Pete wanted her.
It seemed an astounding revelation.
She stared after him, but memories of Robert suddenly pushed into her mind-her lean, elegant Robert, with his city ways and boyish grin. Hed loved the night lights. So many Friday nights theyd gone clubbing, her in her highest heels and slinkiest black dress, Robert in his city-guy clothes. Robert could dance down the house when he got in the mood; he knew his wines, knew his music, knew all the cool places to go.
Camille couldnt imagine Pete giving a damn about a cool place in a thousand years. He was day-and-night from Robert in every way.
Pete was lean himself, but when a man was built that tall and physical, he just wasntelegant. His shoulders were as broad as a trunk. His skin had an earthy tan; his hair never looked brushed. He roared when he was mad, laughed from the belly when he was happy. Nothing scared Pete. He was elemental, earthy, wild himself.
He made her think of male alpha wolves-of the kind of guy a woman was instinctively very, very careful around. Not for fear hed hurt her, but for fear of being taken under by a force bigger than her, an emotional force, a sexual force.
Camille shivered suddenly, and then abruptly, scowled. Elemental force? Where on earth was this horse hockey coming from? The damned man had left her with a filthy, vicious dog that no one could love or want, and somehow managed to divert her attention for a couple seconds by kissing her senseless.
Well-the next time she saw him, thered be no kisses and no nonsense either. She whirled around, only to find Killer-alias Darby-snoozing on his side in the maples shade.
If that wasnt typical! Both males had wreaked total havoc on her day, and now one was sacked out and the other had walked away.
She was simply going to ignore them both, and that was that.
Four
When most women got kissed, Camille thought grimly, their mood perked up. At least if it had been a good kiss. And Petes kiss had certainly qualified as a humdinger.
As she trudged toward the lavender fields, carrying a long-armed set of clippers, she could feel every creaky, cranky muscle in her body complaining. For three days, shed been working nonstop in the lavender. Specifically, that was the same three days since Pete had brought her that dadblamed mangy dog and kissed her.
Working herself into a state of exhaustion hadnt made her forget Pete-but it was doing a fabulous job of completely wearing her out. It was also giving her something to do to earn her keep. The lavender appeared to be a thankless, ridiculous, hopeless job-but that just suited her mood, anyway. She wasnt looking for meaningful. She was looking for something so mind-numbing and exhausting shed be too tired to have nightmares.
When she reached the crest of the hill, the late-afternoon sun was temporarily so blinding bright that it took several seconds before she realized she wasnt alone. There were bodies in the lavender field. Two of them. Squinting, she realized they were boys. Both were hunkered down in the first row of the overgrown lavender, working with clippers-in fact, working with far better clippers than her own.
In a single blink, she knew who they had to be. Petes sons. They were identifiably young teenagers-at an age when boys tripped over their own feet and their arms seemed longer than their whole bodies. But she could see Pete in their height, the strong bones and ruddy skin. Both had his brown hair, too, with that hint of mahogany in the sunlight.
She clomped closer, building up a good head of steam. Obviously Pete had sent them over with the clippers. Her father would have labeled Pete a clishmaclaver-which was one of his Scottish terms for busybody. Doggone it, she hadnt asked for his help. And she may have turned into a rude, ornery bitch-and was proud of it!-but even a curmudgeon had to have a line. She sure as heck wasnt going to let two young boys kill themselves working in those hopelessly overgrown twenty acres.
Boys! Hey! She yelled, the instant she was within hearing distance. It wouldnt take her two seconds to send them both packing; she was sure of it.