whining—’
‘Yes, fancies himself a bit of a Hollywood star, does our Prince. Wouldn’t surprise me if you gave him a bit of a nudge and he decided to fall over and ham it up. For all he’s skittish he likes attention, especially from a tasty woman.’ He winked.
‘He travelled all the way here with his head buried in her lap,’ said Drake drily.
‘Lucky dog!’ chuckled Ken, making Kate pinken. ‘Here I thought he was some kind of giant schnauzer-cross and he turns out to be a ladies’ lap-dog. ‘Nuff said!’
Kate suddenly realised she was still snuggled up against Drake, her stomach pressing into the buckle of his jeans, her breasts squashed into the narrow space between their upper bodies. She wedged her elbows against his chest and shoved herself out of his entangling arms—with difficulty because he seemed reluctant to cooperate. Probably because he knew what she was going to say.
‘You knew I thought he was dead! And you were laughing at me!’ she shouted.
‘Not at you, sweetheart— with you,’ protested Drake, acknowledging his utter defencelessness to the charge.
‘You insensitive pig!’ She scrubbed again at her cheeks to make sure all trace of her sympathy was gone. Unfortunately, so were her chances of appearing aloof in her displeasure. ‘You and that—that…scrofulous hound deserve each other. I bet he was laughing at me too,’ she said, remembering the lolling tongue.
‘Is she always so volatile?’ asked Ken.
Drake’s eyes darkened as he looked down at her, curiosity mingled with a dawning new awareness. Kate tensed, sure he was going to say something witty and suggestive.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said slowly. ‘She’s rather difficult to get to know.’
‘ I’m difficult!’ Her momentary speechlessness gave the vet time to step in by smoothly suggesting that his assistant had had time to give the dog his antibiotic injection by now.
‘I don’t think there’s any chance of infection to his nose, but I’ll give you some antibiotic cream to take with you, Drake, just in case. Come and get Prince and I’ll give you a sample box from the surgery.’ He smiled at Kate. ‘It was nice to meet you, even in this roundabout fashion. The mouth-trap here doesn’t give up much, but I won’t pretend not to know who you are…we get given lots of gossipy magazines for the waiting room here. I hope this doesn’t put you off your visit..?’
He was blatantly fishing, and Kate ignored Drake’s restless movement to cruise by the bait. ‘Oh, I’m not staying with Drake. I’ve rented my own house on Oyster Beach…’
‘Next door to mine,’ Drake chipped in, only to be totally ignored by his so-called friend.
‘Oh, really?’ The blue eyes twinkled at Kate. ‘Ever been out on a racing catamaran?’
‘No, she hasn’t—she gets seasick in the bath. I thought you were going to get me that prescription? You have a sick tortoise over there who’s been waiting long enough.’
‘Mmm, he does look a bit green,’ said Ken, with a glance at his next patient, clutched to the chest of an old man who looked not unlike a wrinkly tortoise himself.
Kate bit off a gurgle as Drake glared at her. ‘You wait here,’ he said sternly.
Ken pointed towards the chairs, using the same tone of voice. ‘Yes, sit, girl, sit!’
Christy was on the phone and Kate hovered by the desk for a few moments thinking to ask her if she knew anything about rats. But the receptionist seemed to be getting into an argument about a bill, so Kate moved to a discreet distance, inspecting the various posters on the walls.
She was standing in front of a glossy chart showing the life cycle of the blowfly complete with close-up photographs of the rear ends of maggoty sheep when a gravelly voice said: ‘Revolting little devils, aren’t they? And fancy having to live in a sheep’s bum! Give me a good, old-fashioned, lusty leech any old day.’
Kate turned to find herself the target of a pair of vivid
‘Yes, fancies himself a bit of a Hollywood star, does our Prince. Wouldn’t surprise me if you gave him a bit of a nudge and he decided to fall over and ham it up. For all he’s skittish he likes attention, especially from a tasty woman.’ He winked.
‘He travelled all the way here with his head buried in her lap,’ said Drake drily.
‘Lucky dog!’ chuckled Ken, making Kate pinken. ‘Here I thought he was some kind of giant schnauzer-cross and he turns out to be a ladies’ lap-dog. ‘Nuff said!’
Kate suddenly realised she was still snuggled up against Drake, her stomach pressing into the buckle of his jeans, her breasts squashed into the narrow space between their upper bodies. She wedged her elbows against his chest and shoved herself out of his entangling arms—with difficulty because he seemed reluctant to cooperate. Probably because he knew what she was going to say.
‘You knew I thought he was dead! And you were laughing at me!’ she shouted.
‘Not at you, sweetheart— with you,’ protested Drake, acknowledging his utter defencelessness to the charge.
‘You insensitive pig!’ She scrubbed again at her cheeks to make sure all trace of her sympathy was gone. Unfortunately, so were her chances of appearing aloof in her displeasure. ‘You and that—that…scrofulous hound deserve each other. I bet he was laughing at me too,’ she said, remembering the lolling tongue.
‘Is she always so volatile?’ asked Ken.
Drake’s eyes darkened as he looked down at her, curiosity mingled with a dawning new awareness. Kate tensed, sure he was going to say something witty and suggestive.
‘I’m not sure,’ he said slowly. ‘She’s rather difficult to get to know.’
‘ I’m difficult!’ Her momentary speechlessness gave the vet time to step in by smoothly suggesting that his assistant had had time to give the dog his antibiotic injection by now.
‘I don’t think there’s any chance of infection to his nose, but I’ll give you some antibiotic cream to take with you, Drake, just in case. Come and get Prince and I’ll give you a sample box from the surgery.’ He smiled at Kate. ‘It was nice to meet you, even in this roundabout fashion. The mouth-trap here doesn’t give up much, but I won’t pretend not to know who you are…we get given lots of gossipy magazines for the waiting room here. I hope this doesn’t put you off your visit..?’
He was blatantly fishing, and Kate ignored Drake’s restless movement to cruise by the bait. ‘Oh, I’m not staying with Drake. I’ve rented my own house on Oyster Beach…’
‘Next door to mine,’ Drake chipped in, only to be totally ignored by his so-called friend.
‘Oh, really?’ The blue eyes twinkled at Kate. ‘Ever been out on a racing catamaran?’
‘No, she hasn’t—she gets seasick in the bath. I thought you were going to get me that prescription? You have a sick tortoise over there who’s been waiting long enough.’
‘Mmm, he does look a bit green,’ said Ken, with a glance at his next patient, clutched to the chest of an old man who looked not unlike a wrinkly tortoise himself.
Kate bit off a gurgle as Drake glared at her. ‘You wait here,’ he said sternly.
Ken pointed towards the chairs, using the same tone of voice. ‘Yes, sit, girl, sit!’
Christy was on the phone and Kate hovered by the desk for a few moments thinking to ask her if she knew anything about rats. But the receptionist seemed to be getting into an argument about a bill, so Kate moved to a discreet distance, inspecting the various posters on the walls.
She was standing in front of a glossy chart showing the life cycle of the blowfly complete with close-up photographs of the rear ends of maggoty sheep when a gravelly voice said: ‘Revolting little devils, aren’t they? And fancy having to live in a sheep’s bum! Give me a good, old-fashioned, lusty leech any old day.’
Kate turned to find herself the target of a pair of vivid
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