The Mogul's Maybe Marriage by Mindy Klasky Page A

toward the foyer. “James! You can bring her in!”
    Her?
    Afterward, Sloane couldn’t have said what she had thought she would see. There was always the specter of Ethan’s old girlfriends. Or his grandmother. Or even some business associate, waiting to steal him away for whatever was left of the weekend.
    But Sloane had never expected a puppy. A fuzzy, black-and-white bundle of fur, with paws the size of dinner plates.
    â€œWhat the—” Ethan exclaimed, even as Sloane knelt beside the excited dog.
    â€œMay I present Heritage Sacre Bleu Chevalier? Or, you can just call her Daisy.”
    â€œWhat type of dog is she?” Sloane asked, as the puppy licked her fingers with unbridled enthusiasm.
    â€œA purebred Old English sheepdog. Eight weeks old.” Zach laughed as Ethan swore under his breath. “You won the silent auction bid, and now she’s all yours. I’ve got her official papers out in the car, along with a leash and some Puppy Chow. Congratulations.”
    â€œYou can take your official papers, and—”
    â€œThe Ballet Fund is truly grateful for your very generous gift, Mr. Hartwell.”
    Zach sounded as pious as an altar boy. James chuckled from the doorway. Sloane caught her breath, waiting to see what Ethan would do, how he would react to the surprise.
    For a moment, his face was dark, frustration twisting his features. But then, he looked at Sloane. She felt himmeasure her smile. She saw him register her fingers already twined in the puppy’s soft fur. She watched him turn to Zach, shaking his head. “You’re going to owe me for this one, buddy. Owe me, big time.”
    Daisy chose that moment to deliver one short bark, as if she understood every word of the mock threat. Sloane watched in amusement as Ethan Hartwell, M.D., MBA, president of Hartwell Genetics knelt down beside her, accepting a slobbery canine kiss from the newest member of his family.

Chapter Five
    T hree nights later, Sloane plucked at her blouse, removing a glistening white strand of Daisy’s fur from the aquamarine silk. Ethan grinned openly at the gesture; he had already fought his own good-natured battle against the puppy’s long fur before they’d left the house. “I thought that Old English sheepdogs don’t shed,” Sloane said.
    â€œThey don’t lose their winter coats all at once in the spring, like some dogs. Instead, they drop hair all year round.”
    Sloane raised her eyebrows. “It sounds like you’ve been doing some research.”
    â€œWhat else would a responsible dog owner do?” Ethan shrugged as he helped himself to a generous bite of his duck à l’orange.
    Sloane smiled at his offhand acceptance of the responsibility that Zach had thrust upon them. Ethanmight have grumbled about the puppy initially, but he’d certainly been in a great mood for the past three days.
    His impromptu invitation to a Wednesday night dinner had come as a complete surprise. At first, Sloane had protested when he named the restaurant—the French country inn was known to be one of the most expensive places in the Washington area. Ethan had insisted, though, saying that he wanted her to try the white asparagus in one of the inn’s famous appetizers.
    He’d been right, of course. The food was incredible. Her scallops were divine, in their complicated sauce of shrimp, oranges and olives. “How is your duck?” she asked.
    Before Ethan could answer, though, Sloane’s cell phone rang. She wrinkled her nose in embarrassment, realizing she should have put the thing on vibrate before they even set foot inside the exclusive restaurant. The ringtone grew louder as she rifled through her handbag, taking some things out to speed her getting to the phone. A hand mirror jostled the spoon beside her plate, quickly followed by lipstick, a pen and a carefully folded piece of paper.
    At last, she got to the phone, only to see