Destiny's Last Bachelor?. Christyne Butler

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Destiny's Last Bachelor? - Christyne Butler Mills & Boon Cherish

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the view was just as nice from this angle.

      Dean followed, reaching her just as she leaned into the backseat of her convertible, grabbed a jacket and wiped at her face and arms. A quick glance into her side-view mirror had her clutching the jacket to her chest as she spun around.

      “My clothes— The water—” she sputtered. “I look— You can see every—” She stomped her foot. “You just stood there!”

      Daisy growled again as if confirming the lady’s accusations. Not that Dean needed reminding. He was sure he would be dreaming about his run-in with this modern Aphrodite later tonight in the lonely confines of his bed. “Ah, look, is there anything I can do—”

      “You can leave.” Her upper-crust nature returned and her voice cooled as she shivered. “Now.”

      “I don’t think I should leave you here alone—”

      “I’m not alone. Snake!”

      Snake? He glanced around, startled, but saw nothing on the ground nearby. When she called out again, he realized she wasn’t talking about an actual reptile, but summoning someone.

      What the hell? A bodyguard?

      She certainly looked like the type who could afford paid protection, but where had the guy been for the past twenty minutes or so? Before Dean could ask, a tiny ball of fur raced out from the bushes, its yappy bark filling the air. The dog—if one could call it that—went straight to the lady and got between her and Dean, the annoying barking growing louder.

      Daisy tensed, and Dean tightened his grip on her, but other than gazing intently at the little creature, his dog remained surprisingly silent.

      “What is that?” he finally asked. “And does it have an off switch?”

      “Hush, Snake. It’s okay.”

      But still the little thing yipped away. Where had this pint-size terror been the whole time he’d been talking to her?

      “What’s he doing?” Dean asked. “Trying to act as tough as his name?”

      “Actually, those are his initials. S. N. A. K. E. His full name is Sebastian Niles— Oh, Snake, hush!”

      Dean couldn’t stop himself from grinning at this sorry excuse for man’s—or woman’s—best friend. “Well, I see you have as much control of your pet as I do over mine— Hey!”

      The dog had finally shut up, but only so it could focus on lifting one of its miniature back legs and peeing right on Dean’s cowboy boot!

      “Oh, my!” The feminine laughter started again before she suppressed it by pressing her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, I am sorry. Snake, come here.”

      The little rat trotted over and plopped down at its owner’s feet.

      “I do apologize,” she repeated, the corners of those full lips turned upward. “Snake has never done anything like that before.”

      “Yeah, I’ll bet.” Dean gave his foot a quick shake. The bottom edge of his pant leg was now as damp as his shirt.

      “Well, as you can see, I am very well guarded, so...”

      “Okay, you win. We’ll leave.” He turned and headed for his truck. Tucking a finger beneath Daisy’s chin, he made her look at him. “You know, if you just would’ve stayed in the truck...”

      Opening the passenger door, he started to place Daisy inside, but held on to her instead and raised the window. Then he closed the door, walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He made sure to hit the window lock before he released his dog into the passenger seat.

      Sure enough, Daisy put her paw on the button.

      “Oh, no, you’ve caused enough trouble for today.” Dean scolded as he put the vehicle into gear and drove away, pausing to take a quick glance at the lady in his rearview mirror. “And thanks to you, I never even got her name.”

      Chapter Two

      The Painted Lady Inn, a beautifully restored Victorian complete with turrets, gingerbread trim and a large wraparound porch, was located on the east side of Destiny, which turned out to be a much smaller town than Priscilla anticipated. Intent on following the GPS directions and still a bit flustered from her encounter with the handsome stranger, she hadn’t taken much time to look around as she made her way to her destination.

      She’d seen brick-front businesses, many with colorful awnings and blooming flowers out front, surrounding a gazebo in the town’s center green. It all looked a bit dated, but charming. There seemed to be more people on the sidewalks than cars in the streets, and most turned to look as she drove past.

      Pulling into the gravel lot next to the inn, Priscilla parked and locked her car, having raised the roof before leaving the river. She then walked inside with as much dignity as her appearance would allow, a small suitcase in one hand and Snake, this time with his leash attached, in the other.

      She’d done her best to dry off before she got behind the wheel, tugging her jacket back on over her see-through dress and twisting her hair up again and clipping it in place, but she’d been unwilling to risk changing her clothes.

      Who was to say another Good Samaritan wouldn’t come along? One who’d also be well over six feet tall with powerfully built arms and a crazy dog?

      She had to admit the stranger’s size had been intimidating at first. She’d been wary of both him and his dog when he’d called out, but then the dog’s exuberant greeting and wagging tail had won her over.

      At least until she’d spotted the gleam of interest in the man’s eyes.

      That was the last thing she needed or wanted right now.

      He’d done his best to be charming and she had to admit the dog was awfully cute, but then to find out just how sheer her pink silk tank top and skirt had become when wet—

      “Hello, you must be Miss Lennox.” A petite older woman with snow-white hair that brushed her shoulders and stylish gray glasses perched on her nose spoke from behind the counter on the other side of the front hall. “And I’m guessing this is your pet?”

      “Yes, that’s me.” Suddenly exhausted, Priscilla was thankful the woman pointedly ignored her damp hair and clothes. She set her bag at her feet and shook the woman’s hand. “And this is...well, he goes by his nickname, Snake.”

      Up went the lady’s brows. “What an interesting moniker. I’m Minnie Gates, one of the owners of the Painted Lady. Welcome to our inn. We’re glad to have both of you with us.”

      “Thank you.” Having grown up in the hotel business, Priscilla could spot a person putting on airs a mile away, but this woman’s charm and grace equaled that of her inn, making Priscilla feel instantly at home. “You have a beautiful place here.”

      “Thank you, we’re quite proud of it.” Minnie smiled and took Priscilla’s credit card. Moments later she returned it along with an ornately fashioned key. “I’ve put you on the fourth floor. There are only two rooms up there

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