The Vixen and the Vet by Katy Regnery Read Free Book Online Page A

fact, if it weren’t for the mask of mangled skin on the right side of his face, Asher Lee would be a catch. A massive catch.
    But the fact was , despite her best efforts to look into his eyes only when he greeted her, his face was terrible to behold. She’d never seen anything so damaged, so disfigured and awful in all her life. She could barely look at him without wincing, without sympathy, and, much to her shame, without discomfort.
    Which served to remind her: she wasn’t there to be his friend. She was there to tell his story. And it was best not to get mixed up. This is an assignment, Savannah, not a potential friendship. Don’t forget it.
    As she prepared to stand and say her good-byes, s he looked over at him. The way his eyes rested gently, patiently, on the stained-glass windows before them made her pause and turn to look herself. Savannah replaced her bag on the floor and eased back into her chair, staring straight ahead through the rainbow-colored windows as the sun lowered in the distance, bathing them both in color. She stared at the beauty before her, without speaking, without moving, totally transfixed by the reds and blues that danced in the late-afternoon sun. It didn’t occur to her to speak, as if disturbing the perfect quiet of the moment was unthinkable.
    Only later, at home, did it surprise her that she’d sat so long, so comfortably, in such complete silence, with someone she barely knew.

     
     

CHAPTER 4
    The first time you realize you enjoy his company more than anyone else’s
     
    Despite their moment in the sun, Savannah felt it was important to give her full concentration to the article and was far more professional on Wednesday, arriving on time with chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies and meeting Asher in the study before he had a chance to meet her on the landing. He stood in the doorway of his office as she marched up the stairs, a surprised look on his face, which she forced herself to meet head on. With no-nonsense professionalism, she noted that although the way his right eye drooped was jarring, the scarring wasn’t quite as bad as she remembered. She gave him a brief, polite smile, then sailed through his study, situating herself in the wingback chair on the left, in front of the stained glass windows.
    “Well, hello to you too,” he said as he joined her.
    “Hello,” she said, distracting herself by setting up her little voice recorder on the table between them. She had made a strict rule not to be distracted by his quasi-handsome half face. In fact, it was probably best if she didn’t look at him at all and just asked her questions and took notes as he answered them. Yes, that was better. She scooped up the little recorder, pressed stop, and tucked it back into her bag, taking out her notebook and pen. “Shall we get started?”
    His voice was appreciably chilly when he answered. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”
    “It’s for the best, don’t you think? That we concentrate on the interview?”
    “Of course,” he said, crossing his long legs at the ankle.
    No long legs. No ankles.
    Interview. First installment due Friday. Stop messing around.
    “So, Mr. Lee —”
    “Asher.”
    “Asher,” she said, losing her train of thought as the name rolled off her tongue. There was something sexy about it. The sh sound in it. “That’s such an unusual name.”
    “ Forgotten your Sunday school lessons, Miss Carmichael? Tsk, tsk. And here I had it on good authority that your family are strong Methodists.”
    “ Sunday school?” she asked, at a total loss, her notebook falling forgotten to her lap.
    “Asher was a son of Jacob and Zilpah, who was the handmaiden of Leah.”
    “The older, uglier sister , whom he didn’t want,” she blurted out, remembering the story.
    He raised an eyebrow. “ I guess you didn’t miss Sunday school after all.”
    “I knew I’d heard the name before. But why did your parents choose it? Arguably he had a checkered beginning.”
    He