Zeph Undercover by Jenny Andersen Page B

with his job. Guilt over her attraction—her past attraction—to him hardened her heart. “So I’m some kind of evil temptress making your life miserable?”
    “No, you’re just the woman who’s gotten under my skin and is making my job a thousand times harder than it should be. So stop taking shots at me and let’s get to work. What’s on your agenda for today?”
    “Office hours this morning. After lunch, I have to go look at a horse that got cut up in some barbed wire and has an abscess because its negligent jerk of an owner didn’t call me right away. Then there’s a dog that needs to be neutered.” She smiled at Zeph’s uncontrollable flinch. “You can help with that. You’re a pretty good surgical assistant. Unless, of course, you want to go investigate something.”
    “Who am I likely to meet if I stay with you? I have nothing against combining business with pleasure.”
    “Well, office hours,” she said, ignoring the warm glow his words produced. “That means anybody or nobody. The horse is at Seldon’s, and—” She broke off when Zeph focused on her like a laser. “You’re interested in Seldon?”
    “I’ve met him. Heard more about him. I thought he got sent up for murder.”
    “He did. This is his brother. Not Lander. Wendover. He took over the horse trading business. And he runs a pitiful operation.” She forced herself to swallow her anger at the shoddy fences and dirty stalls at Seldon’s stables.
    “Who does he run with?”
    “Some rough characters from Sacramento.”
    “Who are his neighbors?”
    “Nearest is Santos Rodriguez.”
    If Zeph were a dog, he’d have come to a point, tail stiff and nose twitching.
    “What? What did I say?” she asked. “Is Wend going to be your chief suspect instead of my dad?”
    “I think I’m very much looking forward to our stable call this afternoon,” Zeph said.
    The first patient of the day interrupted her, and she never got a chance to ask just what he thought he’d accomplish at Seldon’s. But that curious alertness didn’t leave him all morning. “I have to give you credit, Zeph,” she said as he closed the door behind the last patient of the morning. “You’ve become a great assistant in a remarkably short time.”
    He grinned and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “Self-defense. And I still don’t like cats. At least dogs are only dangerous at one end.” He carefully washed the long scratch on his arm. “That Snowball, she’s got a mean set of claws on the hind legs. Come on. I’ll buy you lunch at Betty’s.”
    “I should buy you lunch. You’ve worked like you’re getting paid.”
    He struck a dramatic romance-cover pose, all bedroom eyes and bulging muscles, and swept her into his arms. It was funny and dramatic at the same time, and made her heart jump. “Just being with you is payment enough,” he said before he kissed her, sending her heart into double time.
    She had to work to remember how angry his suspicions made her. She repeated the litany: jerk; traitor; um….um…the litany had completely escaped her and she began to melt.
    The door opened. “Allie—” her father said.
    Zeph let go of her like a red-hot horse shoe. Only a faint red stain on his cheekbones gave away any internal turmoil he might feel, and she had to give him credit for the way he turned to face her father. “Hello, Wentworth. I was just kissing your daughter.”
    Her father made a small strangled noise. “Yes, I see that,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.” He didn’t sound the least bit sorry and Allie smiled. Her father never changed.
    “I dropped by to see if anyone was interested in lunch,” he said, and Allie wondered if it was a demand, not an invitation.
    “We were just about to leave for Betty’s.” Zeph managed somehow to look not guilty and not sorry they’d been interrupted. Allie wanted to smack him.
    The way Zeph had switched from hot lover to the easy camaraderie with her dad proved all her angst over him