“Don’t waste your breath on me. Go get shit done. For starters, that woman out there you knew as Nikki?” She hooked a thumb toward the window. “She calls herself Cole.”
Yardley turned and quickly walked away. She’d probably given him too much to think about too soon, but she didn’t have time for subtlety.
God, she hoped he was as much of a quick study on relationships as he was on anger management. But when a man’s heart was in a struggle with his pride?
“Damn you, John Lattimore. I will get even with you for this one.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cole entered the women’s barracks at Harmonie Kennels to hear Hugo growling low in his throat. Her gaze went instantly to the shadowy figure sitting at the table at the far end of the common room. Her free hand moved to her waist until she remembered she wasn’t wearing her weapon.
“Where the hell have you been?” The cranky male voice was familiar.
“Scott?” She reached for the nearest light switch.
Scott occupied a chair on the far side of a small table while Hugo stood guard on the opposite side, tracking him with the single-mindedness he reserved for cornered suspects.
Cole’s lips twitched. “Hugo, what’s that you’ve cornered? A schmutzige Ratte?” She glanced at Scott. “That’s German for ‘dirty rat.’”
Hugo came to his feet, barking his agreement.
Scott stood up. “Very funny. Now call him off.”
“Hugo. Lass es.”
Hugo looked disappointed at the command to leave the intruder alone. He turned and came readily toward her, but looked back several times at his would-be prey.
Amused, Cole deposited her bag of groceries on the counter then retrieved a ball from her pocket, bouncing it toward Hugo. “Gute Hund. So ist brav.”
When Hugo had caught and bounded away to play with his reward, she turned to Scott. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.” He rolled his shoulders. “While I waited I thought you might have something to munch on. I had just found your chips when Batman there took exception to my presence. Don’t you ever keep his kennel door shut?”
“That would defeat the purpose of having a guard dog. Still, you seem to be in one piece.” She looked him up and down, ignoring the wave of super self-awareness that seemed to be part of her every encounter with him. “I’d say you got off lucky.”
Scott glanced at Hugo, who was chomping so hard on his toy the jingle bell inside tinkled constantly. “We were actually negotiating pretty well until I ran out of chips.”
“That’s when he cornered you?” Cole bit her lip.
“What’s so funny? He could have taken a chunk out of me at any second.”
“I’m not laughing.” But Cole had to press a hand to her lips to keep back the chuckles bubbling up inside her.
“You’re enjoying this.” He scowled at her, a decidedly sexy scowl that she remembered all too well.
She nodded, trying to hold in a breath that escaped in soft puffs of humor.
“It’s not funny. Well, maybe it is a little.” He cracked a smile. “Don’t tell Yardley about this.”
“What? That I found you hiding behind the kitchen table like a little girl afraid of a mouse?”
“You’re enjoying this entirely too much.” He tried to maintain a scowl but her laugher was infectious. Before long his dimples popped into view. “I had almost forgotten your laugh. Your whole face lights up.”
Cole sent him a sidelong glance. “Don’t make too much of it.”
“Why?”
“Because, just don’t.”
Their gazes met, hers turned a deeper blue than usual, as if something had disturbed those depths and brought up shadows of things past. Maybe she was remembering how much they once laughed together, often in bed. In bed, nothing mattered but them. In bed they were perfect.
One glorious second his dick sprang to life along with the sudden urge to capture her laughter in his mouth. He longed to scoop her up, slam and lock the door, and carry her to the nearest horizontal surface where he could screw his wife until they were both too exhausted to move.
My ex-wife. And I can’t touch her. Can’t do any of the sexy nasty things streaming though my mind.
A man who lived his professional life observing and making split-second judgments about the emotional status of others, Scott clocked the exact moment she began to read his thoughts. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in a soft expression of alarm mingled with resistance.
He looked away first, not because she intimidated him. The exact opposite. If she saw more deeply into the dark dangerous desires swirling through him, she would refuse to continue to work with him. And who could blame her?
So, he slammed the door on his libido and put his emotions on lockdown before he put his hands on her.
All he had left was a jittery anxiety he channeled into the most useful emotion he could find. Anger.
“This is not a game.” He gestured toward Hugo. “How the hell do you expect Hugo to accept me when hostility rolls off you as regularly as waves on the shore?” Lust to anger in less than three seconds. A new record for him.