Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) by Rachel Curtis Page B

“Yes?” It felt like she was going to
make a confession, but he had no idea what it was.
    “My,
uh, apartment building doesn’t allow pets.”
    Michael
felt a kick in his chest. With a slowly rising dread, he turned to look in the
back seat, where the dog was happily panting at the window. “You can’t be
serious.”
    “They're
not allowed. He’s too big to smuggle in. I’m not going to leave him at the
pound. I’m just not.”
    Michael
groaned, knowing even as he objected that he was never going to win. “Rescuing
the dog was your idea. My lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to pets.”
    “Can’t
you hang onto the poor fella? For now at least? He might belong to someone. I
can put some feelers out to see if he has an owner who lost him in the storm.”
    Michael
knew the dog didn’t have an owner. He just knew it. And instinct told him that
if he let the ingrate into his house, he might never be free of him.
    But,
as the dog snuffled hopefully at Michael’s shoulder, he wasn’t sure how he
could refuse. It would be a shame for such a decent dog to be foisted off on
the pound, to who knew what future. Plus, the dog might be just the excuse he
needed to keep in touch with Allison.
    “All
right,” he said, “I’ll take him. For a few days. Then we’ll have to think of
another option.”
    “Thank
you.” She grinned at him and got out to help unload the dog. She walked with Michael
up to the front door of the house. “I’m sure he won’t be any trouble.”
    Michael
frowned as he leaned over to keep the dog from taking off down the sidewalk.
The first thing he’d need to do was get the animal a collar and leash. “I’m not
sure of any such thing.”
    Allison
leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Don't bother putting on a
pretense. You’re just not as cold and heartless as you’d like the world to
believe.”
    Her
words were soft and unexpectedly intimate, and they made Michael strangely
uncomfortable. He felt even more at a loss for words when Allison pulled back
suddenly, as if she hadn’t meant to say what she’d said.
    “Anyway,”
she went on hurriedly, “Thanks for your help and everything.”
    “You
too.” Pulling himself together, he smiled at her again. “I’ll be in touch.”
Before she could object to his textured tone, he continued, “About the dog, I
mean.”
    “Oh.
Yeah.” She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something else.
    “What
is it?” Michael asked.
    She
shook her head. “Nothing. All right. Bye.”
    She
was on her way back to the car before Michael could figure out what was going
on with her.
    *
* *
    That evening, he was
sitting at the office in his townhouse, catching up on correspondence and the
most urgent tasks that had been left undone in his absence. When the phone
rang, he glanced at the caller ID and then picked it up.
    “Hi,
Julie.”
    “Good
evening, Mr. Martin. I have some of the information you requested. I have Ms. Dent’s
phone number.”
    Allison’s
number was unlisted, but Michael wouldn’t let something like that deter him.
“Good. What is it?” He jotted it down as she read the number out.
    He’d
felt at loose ends all evening, even with so much work to catch up on. He felt
all alone in the townhouse, and he kept wanting to talk to Allison. He’d
actually been grateful for the company of the ingrate, who kept at his heels
the whole time. Michael decided he’d call Allison when he got through with Julie.
    “If
you’re having problems with a reporter,” Julie added, “I’m sure someone in the
P.R. department can help you.”
    Michael
blinked. “What are you talking about?”
    “Ms.
Dent. She’s on staff with a web magazine. I thought you must have been having
problems with her pestering you.”
    Michael’s
throat closed up, and he couldn’t answer. He sat speechless, staring at the
computer monitor in front of him. As his mind intuitively put the pieces
together, suddenly all of the gaps and odd behavior made