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“I don’t think anyone ever told her that size matters. That is — I mean — ” Mary’s fast and furious blush felt like Fahrenheit 451. “Never mind. Just look at him. I think he’s in love.”
“Hmmph.”
The Basset Hound, pee-wee legs pistoning, scampered off Guinevere’s elephantine muzzle, across her enormous head and down the huge expanse of her back.
Onceheregainedhisungainlyfeet,heresumedhis snuffling display of interest in the feminine portions of her anatomy. His conquest whuffled happily and hunkered down.
The leash jerked with her. Francis Van Deventer lurched forward. Mary clutched him to keep from goingdownherself.Theleashestightened.Herchest mashed against his.
He felt warm, and wonderful. Pressing up against some of his long length was a whiz-bang thing to be doing. It made her want to swing from trees, ululatingabouthimTarzan,herJane,beforeswinging back, real fast, for more rubbing and tingling and —
A whole lot of tingling was going on in the top part of her chest. It wasn’t enough that she’d put her foot in her mouth. Now she was rubbing so much against his chest she was putting her —
The professional in Mary definitely didn’t want to finish that thought.
“I think we have a problem here,” she said.
“I know. Hold still. I’ll get this leash up over your head and untangle it.”
He dropped his own leash, which was wrapped around Mary’s leg anyway. He reached around her to grasp the leash from the angle that should help straighten things out, but he was now working so hard to keep his middle — and the equipment immediately below his middle — from touching Mary that he wasn’t getting far. The dogs shifted, and the leash pulled tighter still.
Mary decided to concentrate on unmashing her nose while she still could. It was flattened against his pristine shirt. She couldn’t breathe. If she could just get her face turned to the side ... Ah, got it.
But now her nose was buried between his shirt and the lapel of his suit. She had to breathe. Mmmmm. She had to breathe again, and not just to get some oxygen. She really, really wanted to inhale a little more of that man scent. Earthy. Spicy. Heady. Mesmerizing. The man smelled like a promise of paradise. Talk about pheromones. This was a full-blown Niagara Falls of them. Ohhh, please let this go on forev —
“Watch out,” Van said. “I think your dog is — ”
Guinevere’s throat rumbled with bliss. She rolled over. That tugged her leash tight across Mary’s back and plastered her against even more of Francis Van Deventer the Fifth.
“I said, hold still,” Van growled. “I’m trying to lift you up out of the leash.”
He grasped her by the lapels of her raincoat and pulled her closer. The leash behind her back slackened.Hismusclesdidn’t.Shecouldfeelthembunch. Sleek. Hard. Nice. He lifted her away from that wonderful spot against his chest. Ohhhh.
Guinevere suddenly pulled Mary’s attention away from her sublime dream too.
“Noooo,” Mary squawked. “Guinevere is — ”
Guinevere was deciding to play hard to get. One hundred and fifty pounds of Saint Bernard tried to take off for the sheer joy of making her suitor try to catchher.Butsheslammedtoahaltattheendofher leash as the weight of two tangled people canceled out even Guinevere’s enthusiasm.
In long, slow eons, Mary came to the conclusion that the humans in this equation of mass and velocity would not escape unscathed.
It took a century to topple to the ground. Mary landed with a thud on top of Francis Van Deventer. He whooshed as she knocked the breath out of him. He gave a strangled groan.
She heard something rip. She twisted to check the damage and pull the pieces together.
Rip, rip. That wasn’t something ripping. That was some things ripping. Many things. She clutched at one likely to gape at the front, disclosing to Mr. Uptight Tycoon what she was wearing under her raincoat.
Rip, rip, rip. Awp! There went the center-back seam. Now she was showing half the population of Toronado what she was wearing under her raincoat.
She felt a draft. She felt a lot of drafts. Why, oh why, could she never resist antique clothing?
“Mr. Van Deventer. Francis. Van,” she squawked. “Don’t ask questions. Just roll me over on my back, and roll yourself on top of me.”
He didn’t move a muscle.
“Ma’am?” He sounded like someone trying to keep thingscalmuntilhecouldcallfortheparamedicsand a straitjacket.
“My coat!” she wailed. At least she wasn’t still squawking. “It’s ripped. Cover me until I can get my coat wrapped back around me. If I can get it to cover me. Do you think I want the universe to see me half naked?”
