Man's Best Friend by Ec Sheedy Read Free Book Online

his head. "Ah, as usual, I'm much too efficient."
    "Just pour, Milt," Rand muttered, leaving his expression to add a silent but definite then get the hell out of here.
    But Rand was more relieved than angry when Milt launched into a poetic description of the wine he was pouring for Tessa. It stopped her questions. No way was he going to talk about Andrea. The back of his neck went cold, then hot, and his gaze fixed on the spiraling stem of his own wineglass.
    Andrea. His illusion of love.
    Andrea. The woman his father had told him was trouble from day one, then proved how right he was.
    Andrea. His former wife—a mistake still being measured every day of his life.
    One thing was certain. There'd never be another—wife or mistake.
    He downed the last of his wine as if it were cheap rye and he an even cheaper drunk. Blasted expensive stuff was so smooth it denied him a decent burn. When Rand felt himself wanting something stronger, he set the glass on the table and pushed it away from him. As an escape he preferred work.
    He looked up in time to see Tessa give him a questioning look. He glanced around. During his short painful trip down memory lane, Milt had left; dinner, Bernini wine, and Tessa in his wake.
    "I won't ask any more questions, if that's what you're worried about," she said, surprising him with her perception.
    "Good. Any answers I'd choose to give would spoil a good meal." He gestured to their artfully presented dinner of roast lamb and a trio of perfectly cooked vegetables. "Shall we eat?"
    * * *
    Tessa sprawled on her back against emerald satin sheets and stared at the ceiling.
    What a strange and awesome man.
    For the first time in her life, Tessa wished she were... more. More beautiful, more mysterious, more interesting. More anything that might attract an emotion other than the wariness that cooled Rand's gaze whenever he looked at her. Her mind and body had thrummed since leaving the dining room, and her walk with Licks had done nothing to steady her. Obviously she had a crush. A silly, go-nowhere crush on the most unattainable man imaginable.
    She thrashed over onto her side and rested her cheek on the back of her hand. She'd laugh at the idiocy of it if she could, because she felt like a kid with a nickel told to buy anything she wanted at the local Toys-JI-Us. Nothing funny in that.
    Wouldn't the man in the room down the hall freak right out if he knew the direction of her thoughts?
    She rolled to her back. Then again, maybe he did know. Maybe that's why he was so cautious around her. God, she hoped she wasn't doing what Annie and Mom called "that Tessa thing," where every thought she'd had since she was born showed on her face. Mom had always said her eyes were movie screens, too big and easy to read.
    She flushed. Wouldn't that be awful—and embarrassing for him. Careful, she'd have to be more careful. Maybe take a few lessons in cool from her new employer. She punched her pillow and closed her eyes. She needed this job, the money would mean a big boost to Annie's college fund. No foolish infatuation was going to get in the way of that.
    Two seconds later she heard it.
    Rap. Rap. "Tessa?"
    She sat up. It was Rand. She was sure of it.
    "Tessa? Are you awake?"
    She tossed the goosedown duvet back and stepped onto the rich carpet. Because her flannel nightgown was thicker than army blankets, she didn't bother with a robe.
    She put her mouth to the door. "What is it?"
    "Can you come? Licks is sick."

 
     
     
    Chapter 5

     
    Tessa flung open the door, leaping-sheep flannel nightgown forgotten. "What's wrong with him?"
    "He's making odd sounds. Whimpering mostly."
    "Show me." She followed Rand down the long hall, worrying all the way.
    In Rand's dimly lit room, she couldn't miss his four-poster bed, its deep burgundy covers wildly askew, the impression of his head on the pillow. To make that much of a jumble the man must sleep as if the mattress were a bed of coals. Or not sleep at all.
    The only