about today?”
“Because he’s in the waiting room! With his dog! It been ages since he’s been in the clinic and now—finally—he’s back!”
Stephanie refrained from rolling her eyes as she pinned a name tag to the thin black sweater she was wearing with her blue jeans. At twenty-seven, she’d had far too many dating disappointments to let herself get excited over a man.
“He?” she asked with casual indifference. “Who is this man that’s got you all gaga this morning?”
“Acton Donovan! His family owns a ranch not far from town. And believe me, Stephanie, there’s no other man in Rambling Rose like him! He’s cute and sexy and adorable and—”
“Whoa!” Stephanie held up a hand. The only kind of guys Stephanie had been able to find were those who’d been more concerned about their own personal wants and needs, but Monica didn’t need to know that. “There’s no such man that you’re describing. He’d be too good to be true. And I have work to do.”
She started out of the break room with Monica stalking her heels. “All right, you don’t have to believe me,” she said under her breath. “You’ll see for yourself when Dayna brings him and his dog back to an examining room. So be prepared. That’s all I can say!”
Stephanie cast her an indulgent smile. “Don’t worry, Monica, I won’t faint at the sight of Mr. Hunky.”
“Stephanie, when it comes to men, it’s like you’re from another planet!” With an exasperated grunt, Monica hurried on past Stephanie and disappeared through a door to the accounting office.
Stephanie walked on toward the examining rooms, then stopped in midstride as she saw the door to the waiting room open and Dayna usher in the next patient, which, in this case, was a long-haired dog that appeared to be a mix of cocker spaniel and Australian shepherd. She was thinking how adorably cute the dog was when the owner suddenly appeared through the door, and for one ridiculous second her breath caught in her throat.
This had to be the dream man Monica had been raving about. Dressed in faded denim, dirty cowboy boots and a chocolate-brown Stetson, he was young, with a tall, lean body that could only be acquired through hard, physical labor or hours at the gym. And somehow she couldn’t see this cowboy stepping his booted feet onto a treadmill or any other piece of gym machinery. No doubt those long, muscular thighs straining against his jeans had developed from hours of straddling a horse. Not a stationary bike.
“Oh, there you are, Stephanie.” Dayna walked up to Stephanie and handed her a manila folder with the dog’s file. “I’m taking Seymour and his owner to Exam Room 2.”
Stephanie glanced over the tall blonde’s shoulder to where the cowboy was standing patiently with the leashed dog. As soon as he spotted Stephanie glancing in his direction, he tipped the brim of his hat and grinned.
Oh, Lord, for once in her life, Monica might have been right. This man’s looks were lethal!
Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to Dayna. “Is Dr. Neil ready to see patients? It’s a quarter to eight. I thought he’d be starting surgery already.”
“Neutering and spaying is on hold for an hour or two. Dr. Neil is running late this morning—some sort of emergency at home. And we have several walk-ins already waiting. Until the doctor gets here I thought you might deal with the less serious patients.”
“I’ll do my best,” Stephanie told her.
With the folder pressed to her chest, Stephanie stepped past Dayna and headed to the exam room. While she waited for the patient and his owner to arrive, she refrained from fidgeting with her clothes or hair. Stephanie had never been one to primp or worry about her appearance and she wasn’t about to start just because she was going to meet the sexiest man in Rambling Rose.
She was plucking gloves from a box on a work counter when the door opened and Dayna ushered the man and dog into the examining room. Stephanie instantly felt the oxygen being sucked from the space around her. Either that or her lungs had forgotten how to function.
“Stephanie, this is Acton Donovan,” Dayna said, introducing the cowboy. “Acton, this is Stephanie Fortune. She’s Dr. Neil’s right-hand man.”
He cleared his throat and shot another lopsided grin in Stephanie’s direction. “Excuse me, Dayna, but she, uh, doesn’t look like a man to me.”
Dayna glanced at Stephanie’s pink face before she turned a suggestive look on the cowboy. “It’s just like you to notice, Acton,” she said drily. “Stephanie is Dr. Neil’s number-one assistant. She’ll take care of you—I mean, she’ll take care of Seymour.”
Dayna left the room and after the door had clicked closed behind her, the long, tall cowboy looked at her, his expression a bit sheepish. “Guess you can tell Dayna thinks I’m a pest.”
“You two know each other?” Stephanie asked.
“Oh, sure. We went to the same school. Except that she was a few grades ahead of me. She thought I was a pest then, too.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
One of his broad shoulders rose and fell and Stephanie’s gaze automatically dropped to the front of his shirt. The blue-denim Western shirt molded to the muscular shape of his chest and torso, and for one brief second Stephanie wondered what he looked like beneath the tough fabric.
He chuckled. “I was a bit naughty back in my younger days.”
He wasn’t exactly old now, she thought. And even from the distance of a few feet, she could see there was a mischievous twinkle in his sky-blue eyes.
Deciding it would be best to drop the subject, she cleared her throat and walked around the examining table to where the spotted black-and-white dog was sitting close to Acton’s leg.
“So what brings Seymour to the clinic today?” she asked. “Is he not feeling well?”
“He’s having scratching fits. And I can’t find a flea or any kind of insect on him.”
As though Seymour understood the two humans were discussing him, he looked up at her and whined.
Before Stephanie approached the dog, she asked, “Is he friendly?”
“He’s never bitten anyone, but he can have a nasty temper. He snaps at me whenever he wants to remind me that he’s the boss. And he isn’t good around strangers, and that includes Dr. Neil.”
Stephanie wasn’t put off by his words of warning. Most cats and dogs wanted to be friends. When they did lash out it was out of fear and the instinct to protect themselves. “Well, I have an idea that Seymour is a very smart guy and he knows I’m going to help him feel better. Don’t you, Seymour?”
With her palm upward, she allowed the dog to sniff her hand. Immediately his bushy tail began to thump against the tiled floor. “What a sweet boy,” she crooned, then gently stroked his head.
Acton pushed back the brim of his hat and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Holy smoke! What did you do to him?”
“Just told him I was his friend,” Stephanie replied.
She
