Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

Steven raised a brow. She was trying to get rid of him and he thought he knew why. "Your dog get any media attention, Jenna?"

She looked startled. "Why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "Seems to me a two-headed dog would be the toast of the talk-show circuit." He leaned forward. "That's an awful lot of barking for just one canine," he murmured and watched her cheeks color up and her brows snap together in irritation.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she snapped and opened the door. "Come in and close the door."

He followed her into her apartment, unsurprised to see two identical German shepherds crouched, teeth bared. Their barks had turned to ominous growls.

"I'm fine," she told them. "No bark. Down." Both dogs dropped to their bellies, barking ceased, but eyes still narrowed and wary. "They're trained," she said defensively.

"Impressive."

"They wouldn't hurt a fly."

Steven shook his head. "I don't know about that."

"They're trained to defend. If they perceive me to be in danger…" She shrugged.

He lifted his eyes from the dogs and looked around her living room. It was decorated in warm browns, a large soft-looking sofa dominating one wall. The far wall was covered in a collage of framed photographs. He would have liked to walk over and inspect each one, to learn more about this woman who cared for his son. But the one step he took brought new growls from the defending duo. "Why do you have two dogs trained to defend? And why all the secrecy?"

She limped over to an antique rolltop desk where every piece of paper was tidily filed in the various slots. She opened a drawer and began rummaging. "I'm a woman living alone. I thought it was safer than having a gun. Where is that ace bandage?"

He nodded. "Wise. So why the lie? Why did you say there was only one?"

"Here it is." She pulled out a rolled bandage and sat down on the chair in front of her desk. "Turn around, please."

"Excuse me?"

Her face flushed once again. "You've already seen more of me today than I show at the beach. I want to wrap my ankle and my stocking's in the way. Please, turn around."

Steven's breath caught in his throat even as he turned around obediently. The memory of those long legs with the sheer stockings was enough to suck the air right out of his lungs. He gritted his teeth at the sound of whispering silk, knowing it was sliding across that long expanse of leg. He clenched his hands into hard fists, wishing it were his own hands doing the sliding. He breathed in. Breathed out. It didn't help.

He really shouldn't be here. He should leave. Just a jew more minutes , he promised himself. He cleared his throat. "Why lie about having two dogs?" he asked.

"Because my lease says I can only have one," she answered. "You can turn back around now. I'm decent."

And to his chagrin, she was, her skirt back in place, her fingers nimbly winding the last few inches of bandage around her ankle. "So why do you have two?"

She secured the end of the bandage before looking up with a grimace. "Because I'm a sucker who can't say no to sad eyes and a wet tongue," she replied, her tone wry. "I used to volunteer at the local shelter and one day somebody brought in a very pregnant female shepherd they'd found abandoned. She had a litter of eight pups and I took one." She pointed to the dog on the left. "Jim, shoes." The dog got up and trotted back to the bedroom. "Jean-Luc here was passed over again and again because he had a bad eye, and he was coming up on his time limit." She sighed. "I couldn't let him die-I'd taken care of him from the day he was born. So I brought him home with me." She snapped her fingers. "Jean-Luc, slippers." The other dog got up and followed the path the first had taken. "Jean-Luc's eye cleared up eventually. I'm only supposed to have one dog here, but I'm on the waiting list for some places that allow two." She shrugged guiltily. "So I walk them one at a time and keep hoping everybody will think they're the same dog until I can get into one of the multi-dog apartments." She frowned. "Mrs. Kasselbaum suspects," she said darkly. "She's just the sort to rat on me to the building manager and get me evicted."

Steven shook his head, unable to hold back the smile. "Today little white lies, tomorrow you'll be robbing banks. It's a slippery slope down the path of moral decline, Dr. Marshall."

"Jenna," she corrected and narrowed her eyes warily. "You won't tell, will you? Because if you plan to, I'll have to kill you and feed you to the boys."

Steven shuddered. "No, I promise your landlord won't hear it from me."

She nodded once. "Well, all right then. So long as we're clear. Oh, good, here they come. What took you guys so long?"

To Steven's amazement both dogs came trotting back, one holding a pair of running shoes in his mouth, the other a pair of oversized fuzzy slippers with Tweety Bird's head on the toes. "I wouldn't have believed that if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. They must have spent a lot of time in obedience school."

She grinned and his heart stuttered. '"I tried to teach them to fetch pizza and beer from the fridge, but they kept confiscating the goods en route." She scratched each dog behind the ears in turn.

"But you didn't teach them to defend in obedience school."

She shook her head while slipping her wrapped foot into Tweety Bird. "No, there was a rash of robberies near here when I first moved in so I found a training facility out past Pineville." She looked up from tying her running shoe on the uninjured foot. "I hate guns, so I put the boys to work for their kibble."

Pineeville . Steven glanced at his watch and grimaced as she got up and limped to her coat closet. He still had hours of paperwork to do before bed tonight and he still hadn't talked to Brad.

"So are you ready to stop procrastinating?" she asked from inside the closet.

Steven frowned. "What are you talking about?"

She reappeared, a golf club in one hand. "You've been put-ting off talking to Brad." She followed up the accusation with a smile. "It's okay. I procrastinated myself today, grading his test, then calling you. A bit of apprehension is perfectly normal. I don't mind being a temporary distraction under the circumstances. But it's time to go home, Steven." She picked up a leash from her lamp table and clucked her tongue. One of the duo jumped up and she snapped the leash on the dog's collar. "Good boy." She opened the door and waited for him to follow.

"I am not procrastinating."

She shrugged. "Okay." She looked over her shoulder. "Make sure that door closes behind you."

He closed the door and followed her down the stairs, the dog happily behind at her side. Once at the bottom, she stopped on the sidewalk next to his Volvo.

"I'm not procrastinating," he repeated, a bit more weakly this time. "I don't think."

She smiled again. "Well, it's either that or I'm utterly fascinating and a brilliant conversationalist-and I know that's not true." She hesitated, then lifted her hand to his upper arm and squeezed. "Have courage, Steven."

She was standing close enough that he caught the faint scent of coconuts. Without her ridiculous shoes the top of her head was level with his chin. She'd fit perfectly in his arms. He knew it instinctively. Just as he knew she was wrong about one thing. He did find her utterly fascinating. With her face lifted up, her forehead was inches from his mouth. He looked into her eyes and for a brief moment thought about pressing a kiss to her forehead, then took a mental step back. It was crazy. Sheer lunacy. But he still wanted to.

God knew he didn't get everything he wanted.

"Thank you," he said, his voice husky. "For Brad."

She took a few steps backward, leaning on the golf club, the dog matching her step for step. "Go home, Steven. Take care."