‘And how do you enjoy being nanny to a couple of dogs?’ he asked, smiling.
Amusement turned his eyes to pure, glinting gold, Emma registered dazedly. And that smile! Although it didn’t soften the hard framework of his face, it transformed his powerful male charisma into a potent sexuality.
‘Very much,’ she said, using the words to distract her from the intensity of her response. ‘Babe’s a darling, and Lucky—well, Rottweilers are very determined animals, so they need guidance and firm training, otherwise they believe they’re the leaders of the pack. Then they can become dangerous because they see their job as protecting the others in the pack and enforcing discipline. Lucky has to understand that in his pack he’s down at the bottom. He takes orders; he doesn’t give them.’
‘Can you make him do that?’
At the note of scepticism in his question, Emma lifted her round chin. ‘Yes,’ she said with complete confidence. ‘As any nanny will tell you, it’s just a matter of training and praise, training and praise until eventually he gets the idea.’
‘And what training do you have for this?’ he asked, looking down at her with unreadable eyes.
‘I’m a registered vet nurse,’ she told him coolly, ‘and
I’ve done a lot of work with a man who breeds dogs for obedience trials. I’ve known Lucky since he was six weeks old, and I can handle him because he really wants to please me.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ he said, his voice somehow goading.
Acutely and suspiciously aware of the breeze lifting her curls, the sun’s golden caress on her skin, the way the light emphasised the rugged strength of Kane Talbot’s features, Emma said, ‘Dogs usually do want to please,’ trying to cut off the conversation without making it seem obvious.
Foolishly, she looked him straight in the eyes.
She’d heard the clichés—‘my heart stood still,’ friends had told her, or, ‘I sizzled right down to my toes.’
She’d never thought to experience that sort of reaction to any man. Yet when she met Kane Talbot’s gaze she fell headfirst into topaz fire; alien sensations scorched down her backbone and she stiffened at the clutch of an unbidden hunger in the pit of her stomach.
Mercifully, a renewed fusillade of barks from the house dragged her back from that dangerous brink.
Twisting away, she blinked several times at the silver hood of Mrs Firth’s car to clear her sight. ‘I’d better get going,’ she said—how strange that her voice was perfectly steady—‘before Lucky decides to break a window to rescue me.’
It was a stupid thing to say, and to his credit Kane didn’t pick her up on it. Instead he said, ‘One day you must tell me how he managed to acquire a name like that.’
She slid into the car, realising only when she’d finished clicking on the seatbelt that he held the door for her. ‘I’ll do that,’ she said, nodding at a point just over his left shoulder.
‘If you wait, I’ll go ahead and show you the way to the garage.’
A little too sharply she countered, ‘That’s very kind of you, but if you tell me where it is you won’t need to bother.’ She managed to produce a smile. ‘It must be difficult to get lost in Parahai.’
‘Impossible. Turn left at the crossroads. The workshop is on the right about three hundred metres past it.’
‘Thank you.’
Her breath sighed out as he closed the door and stood back to let her drive on.
Accelerating down the road, she thought with real gratitude that she wasn’t likely to see much of him. According to Mrs Firth he had interests in Australia and North America, so he was often out of the country.
Which was just as well, because he didn’t appear to be attacked by the same treacherous weakness that still quickened her pulses. His hard, angular face hadn’t changed, and there’d been no answering glitter in the glacial depths of those eyes. Naturally, because he was in love with another woman. Since all of her friends who had fallen in lust had assured her that it was mutual, a meeting of desires across a crowded room, this had to be a crush rather than lust. She’d get over it.
And it had better happen soon, she thought, noticing that his car was already in her rearview mirror. Apart from anything else, the physical manifestations were embarrassing and extravagant
And scary. She’d never realised she could feel like this—as though the world and all her interests had suddenly condensed to an unbearable focus on one man. Exciting it certainly was, but far from comfortable.
Not to mention the fact that she was much too busy to waste time developing a hopeless crush on someone at least ten years older than she was, and light-years ahead of her in sophistication. Who belonged to another woman.
Setting her jaw, she drove sedately for ten minutes through farms and orchards, finally coming down a steep hill to the village. Parahai was a small town on the edge of a narrow, winding inlet Once a busy coastal shipping port and now a yachting haven, it served a diverse area of farms and stations and orchards. Because there were beaches close by it was a holiday town, so during summer the tree-lined streets were probably frantic.
In spring it was laid back enough to be friendly, and that holiday rush ensured that the shops were of a higher standard than she’d expected in such a small place. Emma liked the ambience, admired the pohutukawa trees shading the main street, and enjoyed the quick smiles of the locals.
She followed Kane’s directions to the workshop and got out, tensing as his car drew up beside her. Leaning into the Volvo, she pulled out her bag and asked sweetly as she straightened, ‘Have you discovered that your warrant is overdue too?’
He got out—all long legs and shoulders, she thought crossly—and surveyed her with tawny eyes iced by mockery. ‘No.’
Quelling the urge to be very rude, Emma headed towards the workshop. He caught her up within two strides.
The owner looked up as they walked in. ‘Hi, Kane,’ he said amiably, ‘I didn’t know you were coming in today.’ But that’s all right, his tone revealed.
Kane introduced him to Emma, who had to suffer the open interest in the man’s eyes as he said, ‘Yep, fine, no problem. She should be done in a couple of hours, no sweat.’
Clearly, having Kane with her made her someone to be reckoned with, Emma decided irritably. In spite of his easygoing attitude, there was no mistaking the mechanic’s respect. She handed over the keys and he got into the Volvo and drove it into the workshop.
Kane said, ‘I’ll drop you off wherever you want to go.’
It wasn’t actually a suggestion. With a small, acid pleasure Emma said, ‘If you don’t mind I’ll walk into town. I’d like to look at the gardens on the way and it’s not far.’
No doubt her smile was as insincere as her excuse, because the dark brows drew together for a second and heavy eyelids masked the topaz glitter of his gaze before he said evenly, ‘Of course. But you should wear a hat. Spring comes early up here and the sun can burn any time of the year.’
His eyes lingered a moment on the fine, pale skin of her face, bringing heat flaring to the surface.
‘I’ll remember that,’ she said primly, and set off down the road. Arrogant oaf!
Well, no, ‘oaf’ was the wrong word. He wore clothes that had been made for him by a very good tailor, and there was nothing provincial about him at all; he possessed a worldliness and self-assurance that was all the more potent for being entirely unconscious.
And beneath it there was strength and something predatory, something untamed and battle-hardened, she thought, walking briskly up the road.