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Chapter One

Driving across the Hawthorne Bridge into Portland's east side, Ty's hands drummed lightly on the wheel. His face itched where he'd nicked himself shaving that morning, and he felt warm despite the cool temperatures of this Northwest early summer morning.

An out-going, people-loving guy, he didn't usually get nervous meeting someone new. But depending on how this encounter went, he'd either be further on his way to a successful business or back standing behind a coffee cart.

What would she be like? Even though she sounded okay on the phone, there had to be something wrong with Jenny Vaughn. Ellison wouldn't even look him in the eye when he insisted he hire her.

In his mind he went over his conversation with Ellison in the financier's office the previous day.

"You want me to hire some woman I don't even know?"

"Yes," came Ellison's clipped response.

"And why would I do that?"

Sitting behind his gleaming steel desk, the older man merely steepled his fingers and smiled.

"You do need money to expand your business, right? And I have money, which I'm perfectly willing to invest in your enterprise. Unless, of course, you know of someone else who's interested?"

Stomach tight with tension, Ty knew he had no choice. He had been trying to get financing for his venture for months. He knew, with the certainty of a man who had earned his MBA from one of the top schools in the country, that his business was poised to take off. All he needed was some money for expansion.

"You could always approach your father," Ellison said, his voice almost a purr. A lion's purr.

"I haven't approached my father, as you put it, for anything in years, as you well know. We don't exactly see eye to eye."

"That is unfortunate. Perhaps a bank will loan you the money."

Ty struggled to keep a rein on his temper. He'd appealed to banks as well as individual investors, and in the current tight money market no one else was willing to take a chance on him and his business.

Ellison held the upper hand.

"So let me see if I understand. You'll lend me the money if I hire this woman. That's blackmail."

Ty's voice was a growl to his own ears. The effort to produce his customary smile was painful.

"Not at all. Think of it as a favor. To me, and my dear wife. The expense won't be yours. I'll gladly pay whatever the woman charges. Just be sure she doesn't know anything about my involvement."

"That sounds almost sinister." This time Ty didn't bother to smile at all.

"I can assure you, it's nothing of the sort. I have my reasons for keeping my part in this affair silent. Oh, do cheer up, Weston. Your newsletter will look professional. This Vaughn woman is quite good, or so I've been informed."

"If she's so good, why does she need you to get work for her? What's wrong with her, anyway?"

"Absolutely nothing, I assure you." Ellison wouldn't meet Ty's eyes. "Just hire her. Believe me, it will make my life a whole lot easier. And yours, too."

"And if I don't hire her?"

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you. You're in the coffee business. You should know life can be quite a grind."

Ty didn't smile at the memory of Ellison's witticism. The joke had done nothing to ease his mind about Jenny Vaughn.

Before climbing into his car today Ty had checked her references, and the few she had were glowing. So if it wasn't her work that made Ellison so evasive, it must be something else.

Was she a criminal? A derelict relative? Someone no one else would hire?

Or, more likely, she had a special connection to Ellison. His mistress, perhaps? But then, why would he mention his wife? Ellison didn't seem the type, but one never knew.

Ty shrugged. Not that it made any difference, anyway. He had to hire Jenny Vaughn, no matter what she was.

He turned off the main boulevard and entered a warren of side streets. The homes were old, some run-down and some quite charming, but Ty snaked his car through the narrow streets without paying much attention to the local architecture.

It rankled having Ellison call the shots. But Ty would grit his teeth and put up with it for now. This Jenny Vaughn could have scores of lovers, or two heads, and he wouldn't care if hiring her allowed him to expand his coffee business.

And if she could also create good promotional materials, it would be a bonus. No, Ty didn't mind having to make sacrifices for such a worthy cause.

But if he really didn't mind so much, why did his jaw ache from being clenched?

Ty rubbed his sore jaw to relax it, and consulted his map. According to his directions, he was almost there. He rounded a corner and found a place to park.

This neighborhood was unfamiliar. In all the years he lived in Portland he'd only come to this area once or twice to check out the trendy coffee shops along Hawthorne Boulevard.

Was it even safe to leave his car in this funky neighborhood of tree root-cracked sidewalks and mossy curbs? Some of the homes appeared to have undergone extensive renovations, while others were artistically decorated in a way that hid their shabbiness. Taking a deep breath, Ty prepared himself for the worst.

He made sure he had the right address before he got out of his car. The cottage before him, though charming with its hanging flower baskets and tinkling wind chimes, looked as though it could use a host of repairs.

He checked the coffee, cups lidded and nestled in the paperboard tray on the seat beside him. The cups were still hot to the touch.

Resolutely he grabbed the tray and deftly exited his car. With the tip of his thumb he pressed the button on his remote car key, which made a comforting chirp as the door locks automatically slid into place.

Coffee cup tray in one hand, and his leather briefcase tucked under his arm, Ty crossed the street to the sidewalk in front of the cottage's tiny yard. Stepping over a garden hose and around clay pots spilling petunias, he made his way up the path that led to the porch and the front door.

His pant leg brushed the leaves of a potted geranium at the foot of the porch stairs. A sweet cinnamon rose scent drifted up to his nostrils, and transported him like a magic carpet to his grandmother's house, and the rose geraniums she grew every summer.

He shook his head firmly to clear the nostalgic image. There was no way he wished to connect his beloved grandmother with this woman he was being forced to hire.

With infinite care he kept the paperboard tray he carried with its coffee cargo level as he mounted the old wooden porch steps. Freeing one of the fingers of his hand supporting the tray, he punched the doorbell.

No sound issued forth.

"Broken," he muttered. "Great."

Balancing the tray carefully, Ty freed one whole hand and knocked on the splintered frame of the screen door. His knock made only a hollow, insubstantial sound. So he pulled the iron handle on the old wooden door, keeping an eye on the coffee.

Rusty hinges screeched shrilly as Ty inserted himself behind the screen just far enough to pound on the bright red door.

Unfortunately, he jostled the tray as he knocked.

Hot coffee poured from under the rim of the plastic lids, over the tray and onto his white shirt, exposed by the unbuttoned jacket of his black pinstriped suit.

"Damn," he muttered as the red door opened a crack, just the length of the chain that held it to the jamb.

Ty found himself staring down into a pair of the biggest, brownest eyes he had ever seen, set into a heart-shaped face framed by wildly curling dark auburn hair. The woman's face was pale with just a dusting of freckles, like sprinkles of nutmeg on the foamy milk crest of a properly made cappuccino.

Coral-pink lips formed an "O" of surprise, and her slender fingers clutched the doorframe, with most of her petite body positioned protectively behind it.

Words died in his throat. This was Jenny Vaughn? The introduction he'd carefully rehearsed evaporated. She caught him completely off-guard.

"Yes," she said a bit breathlessly, as if she wasn't sure she was going to run or not.

I'd bet she'd be quick if she ran, he thought irrelevantly. With her soft brown eyes and russet hair and tentative manner, she reminded him of an elegant doe he'd seen up close in a meadow once on a hike. Only she was even lovelier. Hopefully she wouldn't bolt if startled, like the doe did.

"Are you Jenny Vaughn?" He struggled to collect himself. "My name is Ty Weston. I called, and we had an appointment..."

Doubt and hesitation shone in her eyes. And something else flashed briefly. Was it fear? She looked him over carefully, making him intensely aware not only of his unanticipated attraction to her but also of the spreading coffee stain on his shirt.

"About the newsletter?" he continued desperately.

"Oh, yes," she said, her words coming in a rush. "I'm Jenny. But I was expecting you tomorrow."

"Didn't you get my message? I had to change our appointment because my supplier is coming to town tomorrow."

"No, but then I don't always get my messages," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Sometimes my cat erases them from the answering machine with his paw. He doesn't like the noise of the beep. I suppose you'd better come in." She reluctantly unhooked the chain and opened the door.

What an odd woman, he thought. Beautiful, in an unassuming way, but not at all flirtatious. Ty was used to women coming on to him, subtly or otherwise. This woman seemed to be steeling herself just to talk to him. And her message-eating cat... yes, she was definitely eccentric. And undeniably charming.

He stepped into a cramped hallway, still balancing the coffee tray in his hand. "If I could just set this down somewhere. Or what's left of it," he amended with a glance down at his shirt.

She stood right by the door, not moving an inch, just staring at him warily.

"Can I put this down?" he repeated.

"Oh, I, uh, suppose I could put it in the kitchen. I'll take it from you."

She reached for it, but he refused to yield. "I'll carry it back. No sense in us both getting a coffee bath."

Jenny still hesitated.

"Unless you want me to just stand here while we discuss our business?" Painfully aware of his bargain with Ellison, Ty tried to hide his exasperation.

"No, of course not," said Jenny, without enthusiasm. "I suppose it's all right if we go into the kitchen. But you'd better be quiet, or you'll wake him, and all hell will break loose. He really doesn't like me having anyone over, especially men."

So she had a man in the house. As unexpected as the attraction he'd felt earlier, disappointment now sank in the pit of his stomach like a rock-hard biscotti left on the pastry shelf.

Why he was so deflated, he wasn't sure. It wasn't like he was interested in her, beyond the interest he would have to develop for anyone who worked for him. He resented being forced to hire her, didn't he?

So she was attractive. Any honest, normal red-blooded man would have to admit that. But Ty liked to pick his women, not have them foisted on him.

So why should he care if she had a boyfriend?

"Poor little guy," she went on. "He was up all night, so of course, I was, too. Some kids in the neighborhood were setting off illegal fireworks. Dipping into their Fourth of July stash, no doubt." She shook her head. "He really is just a baby, and needs me for constant reassurance."

Jenny smiled fondly, setting off another spiral of speculation in Ty's brain.

Jenny Vaughn didn't have a boyfriend in the house; she had a child. She must be a single mother. No wonder Ellison wanted to help her.

Ty started to relax till a darker thought assailed him. What if the child was Ellison's, and that's why the man was so adamant Ty hire Jenny?

His mind boggled. He knew for a fact Ellison had kids with his wife. How could Ellison be such a rat?

Ty glanced surreptitiously at Jenny's left hand. She wore a wedding ring. Relief and frustration warred in his mind. If Jenny had a husband, it was less likely she was fooling around with Ellison. But it also meant Jenny Vaughn was taken.

A favorite phrase of his grandmother's flashed through his mind. She'd always said the good ones married young. He wished he'd quit thinking of his grandmother. It all started with those damned geraniums on the porch.

"You can set that on the counter," Jenny said as she led the way into the kitchen. She swept a stack of newspapers, two coffee mugs and a cereal bowl to one side of the counter to make room.

She watched as he set the paperboard tray on the counter.

"What did you bring?" Catching a whiff of the brew, she wrinkled her pert little nose. "I'm guessing it's coffee."

"Not just any coffee. It's No Jive Java."

Her mocha-colored eyes were blank.

"That's my coffee, from my stand. Didn't El--" Ty remembered just in time that Ellison insisted his name be left out of any discussions, "--I mean, didn't I mention it when we talked?"

Consternation furrowed her brow. "No, all I remember is you said you needed a newsletter, and that you had a small, expanding business."

"Very small. Just a couple of coffee stands at the moment. But I'm about to open a storefront in the downtown mall, and I've started selling some of my exclusive coffee blends. I need to get the word out. I thought we'd start with a newsletter and go from there."

"I'm very good at newsletters." Her tone became brisk and professional. "Would you like to see some samples of my work?"

"That's not necessary. I'm sure they're great."

Ty tried not to let any irony creep into his voice. What was the use of looking at her work? He had to hire her or say good-bye to his financial backing. Again he worked to stifle the resentment he felt at being forced to meet Ellison's demands.

"You want to hire me," she said slowly, "without even seeing what I can do?"

Why did she sound so suspicious? Surely she must know she had someone looking out for her.

Whatever. Ty decided he'd better play the game.

"I've heard such good things about you. I just know you can handle the work."

Her frown deepened. "Don't you even want to know my rates?"

Why should he care, when Ellison said he'd pay her expenses? He gritted his teeth.

"I'm sure they're reasonable."

She looked intently at him for a minute, and then a tentative smile broke over her face. It nearly took his breath away. It was the first smile she'd given him. Her smiles must not be lightly bestowed, he thought, and for some reason that pleased him.

"You are very trusting, but I'll feel better if I give you a print-out of my rates. Read it, and then we'll discuss your job."

He set his coffee cup and briefcase down and followed her into a tiny room adjacent to the kitchen, where a computer desk and a file cabinet had been set up.

This room, too, was cheerfully cluttered. Tidiness obviously wasn't Jenny Vaughn's strong point. He hoped she was more organized about her work.

Near the window a birdcage hung from a hook on the ceiling. Perched inside, a green and blue parakeet eyed him nervously, hopping from one leg to another. A patch of sun broke through the clouds, illuminating a mass of gray fur atop a pile of papers on the desk.

Jenny pulled out the file cabinet drawer, extracted a folder and shut the drawer with a bang. The bird squawked and a pair of green eyes rose from the inert lump of fur.

"Sorry, Dusty," she said absently.

"Is that thing alive?"

"Of course." She opened the folder. "He's my cat. He's just resting." She picked up a pair of delicate wire-rimmed glasses and perched them on her nose.

The glasses made her brown eyes look larger and deeper, which combined with her pensiveness made her seem even more ethereal. There was a hint of sadness to her, an underscore to her unobtrusive beauty. Momentarily fascinated, Ty forced himself to focus on the subject at hand.

"Oh, yes, the cat who hates answering machines."

"They annoy him. He likes to rest."

"Does he always sleep on your desk?"

"That's one of his places. He likes to sleep on something--newspapers, pillows, laundry. You know how cats are."

Unconcerned, she turned her attention back to the contents of her file folder.

Ty had visions of his newsletters going out covered in cat hair. Dusty yawned, an eye-squinting, claw-stretching, pointy-toothed cat yawn, and resettled himself on the papers. Ty could have sworn the cat looked at him smugly.

"Here we are," said Jenny, selecting a piece of paper from the file and handing it to him. "That pretty much spells out my rate structure."

"It looks fine."

"Aren't you even going to read it?"

What was the point? She looked at him with confusion and uncertainty on her face. She must really have no clue the job was a set-up between him and Ellison.

The idea disturbed him. He'd assumed she'd known something about her "job referral." Maybe the situation was more complicated than he thought.

"Why don't we have some coffee while we discuss this?" He retraced the short steps that led back into the kitchen. Jenny followed right behind him.

"I brought you some of my best French roast, dark, and intense, blended from beans grown all over Latin America. It's one of our most popular coffees."

She seemed to shrink back as he spoke. "Thanks, but I don't drink coffee."

He whirled around in surprise. "You don't drink coffee? Are you kidding?" She might as well have said she didn't breathe air.

"No, I'm a dedicated tea drinker."

"No lattes, cappuccinos?"

"No."

"Not even a mocha? Or decaf mochas, at least?"

"Afraid not. But I do grow and dry my own chamomile leaves, and make my own tea. Would you like to try some?"

Numbly he shook his head. This must be why Ellison wouldn't look him in the eye. A tea drinker! How was he supposed to work with a tea drinker? Especially an herbal tea drinker. How did anyone live without caffeine?

She twisted an unruly strand of her hair nervously. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"I guess not." He tried to ignore his misgivings. "But how will you know if my coffee is any good if you don't taste it?"

"Oh, I don't have to drink coffee to do a newsletter about your business," she said earnestly. "Writers don't necessarily have to experience everything they write about. I know someone who wrote a whole piece about sky-diving, and she's afraid of heights."

Ty laughed. Jenny didn't. She bit her lip, her beautiful features clouded by uneasiness.

"Anyway, your coffee certainly smells interesting," she added in a rush of words. "Very well-roasted. Please, go ahead and drink it while we discuss my rates. If your coffee's gone cold I can reheat it for you, if you'd like."

She took a cup from its tray and set it on the crowded counter.

Ty shuddered. "Don't even suggest that. I realize that as a tea drinker you probably wouldn't know this, but reheating ruins coffee. The flavor is never the same. I'd rather drink it cold." He reached for the cup on the counter.

"Oh no, really, it would be no trouble to pop it in the micro--" She reached for the cup, too, as she spoke, and their hands collided.

Silverware, cups and plates clattered noisily onto the tiled floor as a cascade of coffee drenched the countertop and streamed down the cabinet doors.

"Oh, no," Jenny moaned. "Baby's going to wake up now for sure."

Ty expected to hear an infant's cry. Instead he heard the thud of a solid mass hit the back door and the hard thwack of a rubber flap. A massive, ugly brute of a dog burst into the kitchen like a hound from hell and growled, teeth bared, saliva dripping from unlovely lips.

"It's all right, Baby." Jenny's voice was soothing. "This man is a friend. Don't bite him."

She turned to Ty. "He was relaxing under the cherry tree in the backyard, distracted by my neighbor's lawnmower. I was hoping he'd stay there. Now he's mad because you made it all the way into the kitchen without him knowing it."

He's mad all right, thought Ty. As in crazy. Homicidal, he'd bet. The dog stared at him with cold yellow eyes.

He must be a cross between a yellow Labrador and a bulldog, Ty decided. The animal had short, dirty brown hair, the color of a week-old coffee stain.

From his basketball-sized head to his brown-clawed feet, the dog looked mean and muscular, as if he ripped people apart regularly without any remorse.

So this is her "baby," huh? She must have a twisted sense of humor. Still growling, the dog advanced a step. He curled his upper lip over his teeth in an awful grimace.

"That's funny." Jenny's voice was shaky. "Baby usually doesn't get this upset. Even the time the mailman had to come in to set down a big package was he this upset."

She closed her eyes briefly and drew a deep breath. "Just stay calm and don't be afraid. Dogs can smell fear, and it drives them crazy."

Ty tried to laugh. "I'm not afraid," he lied. "You're the one who's upset. He wouldn't actually hurt anybody, would he?"

"I wouldn't say that." Pride was in her voice. "Baby is very protective of me. He'd hurt anybody he thought was a threat."

"Then tell him I'm no threat, okay?"

"Baby, calm down." She actually flung her arms around the beast's neck. "Ty is a client. Remember, we don't attack clients."

"A sound policy." Ty addressed the dog. "Listen to her. I'm a client. Someone in the don't-attack category."

The dog growled even louder.

"You need to act more casual." Anxiety sharpened her voice, which sent Ty's blood pressure soaring. "If you relax, he will."

"Okay, I'll try and relax." The remaining cup of coffee was close enough that Ty could reach it without moving. He slipped the cup out of the tray, popped its lid off and brought it to his lips.

"Ahh, that's great," he said, with feigned casualness. "Even at this temperature. Sure you don't want to try some?" He extended the open cup to Jenny.

Snarling, the dog lunged at him, pinning him to the floor, all four paws on his chest. As he struggled with the huge animal, Ty knew this was no ordinary dog attack.

It was a one-animal stampede.

Chapter Two

"Baby! Please listen to me and get off that man right now! Bad dog!"

Lost in an orgy of barking, Baby didn't respond right away. Yanking hard on Baby's studded leather collar, Jenny finally got the dog off Ty.

Dragging the dog to the back door, Jenny shoved him into the backyard, and blocked the flap on the doggy door. Baby continued to bark like the house was on fire.

Leaning against the door, Jenny caught her breath for a moment. This was crazy. She'd never seen her pet so enraged. Not since he challenged Dirk two years ago.

Convulsively, she gulped. The familiar bile of fear and betrayal rose in her throat, until she deliberately willed it down. She forced herself to let the memory go. She had more immediate matters to deal with, like the potential client in the ruined suit stretched out on her kitchen floor.

Ty didn't attack her, she told herself. He was a much-needed client. Her dog attacked him, and for no apparent reason. She had better do something quick, before he left and took his job with him.

"Ty, are you all right?"

"Let's see now." He ran his hands over his dog-spit-soddened shirt. "No cracked ribs, no broken bones sticking out of my skin. I'll have to base the lawsuit solely on injured pride and loss of dignity."

A heart-stopping grin belied his words. He straightened his chewed shirt cuffs, and attempted to brush the dirt and saliva off his jacket. The effort was futile.

Jenny bit her lip to stifle the laughter that threatened to bubble to the surface, despite her apprehension.

"I was afraid Baby may have hurt you when he knocked you down."

"He didn't knock me down. I was just resting for a minute, like that cat of yours."

His grin was even broader now, and Jenny's heart turned over. She had to admit what she had been denying to herself ever since this man had filled her doorway a short time ago. Against her hard-earned reason and bitter experience, this man attracted her.

Nearly six feet tall, with his slim athletic build, dark hair and silvery gray eyes, Ty Weston was striking enough when he just stood still. When he spoke or smiled he was absolutely devastating.

Jenny hadn't felt this drawn to a man in a long time. She ruthlessly suppressed the delicious tingle that started at her toes and worked its way up her body.

What a bad time for long-dead feelings to suddenly revive! She had bigger problems to think about now, besides Ty Weston's disarming smile and those silver eyes of his with just a smidgen of gray--or were they gray with a smidgen of silver?

A sign of frustration barely escaped her lips. Her dog had just assaulted a potential client, which surely must be a crime, and here she was mooning over the color of the victim's eyes.

Ty Weston may have been joking about suing her, but it would be no joke if he decided to hire someone else to do his newsletter.

Not that she'd blame him after Baby's rough treatment, but it would a disaster if Ty changed his mind about offering her the job. Lately her cash flow had slowed to a trickle, and she needed all the work she could get.

Jenny marshaled her courage, and faced him.

"I'm so sorry about what happened. Like I said before your, uh, encounter with Baby, he is a bit over-protective of me."

"Over-protective? He's a lethal weapon, a loose cannon set to go off at any moment. How many bodies of his victims do you have buried in the backyard? I think I've got bruises just from him standing on me."

He rubbed his chest as he spoke. Jenny couldn't help noticing, however irrelevantly, that it was a fine, broad chest that would look equally at home in denim or flannel as the linen broadcloth he now wore. And even better with nothing on at all. The sudden image shocked her into a blush.

Mentally Jenny gave herself a vigorous shake to dispel her troublesome thoughts. She hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"I'm sorry," Ty said, misunderstanding her discomfort. "I didn't mean to be so emphatic. But your dog mauled me."

"Oh, no, not really. If he'd really wanted to hurt you, he would have bitten you."

"That's comforting. I suppose all I got was a warning. Sort of a dog equivalent of leaving a horse's head in my bed. Well, I can take a hint."

"Please don't let this affect our working arrangement." She struggled not to sound too pleading. "Baby will get used to you, I promise. He doesn't like anybody at first. It's just his nature. He's a guard dog. He'll warm up to you after a while."

Ty looked out the back door to where Baby was barking, and Jenny followed his gaze. The dog was totally worked up, ears and cheeks flapping as he barked, his spittle flying against the screen.

When Baby saw Ty looking at him, the dog threw himself against the door with frame-splintering force for added emphasis.

"He seems pretty warmed up already." Ty reached for the other cup of coffee and downed it in one long gulp. Despite his ruined suit and tousled hair, Ty leaned against the kitchen cabinet as nonchalantly as if he were at the espresso counter of a swanky coffee shop.

His coolness was impressive. With a glance Ty took in the sad state of his shirt, which had the contents of the other cup of coffee all over it, as well as a few rips from Baby's oversize paws. Ty winced at the destruction.

Jenny thought she could read the signals. She sighed.

"I'll understand if you want to find somebody else for your newsletter."

Ty sighed, too. She thought she saw resignation on his face as his lips curved into a grim smile.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. I'm sure we can work this out."

She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. The man had been mauled by Baby, the fiercest dog in the world when he set his mind to it, yet was still willing to go through with the job.

This was amazing--and beyond wonderful. It didn't make sense, but who was she to question her luck? Ty Weston must really want her to do his newsletter.

So she'd be working with him after all. A warm glow of happiness started to spread throughout her. She'd landed a client, a client even Baby couldn't scare off.

Baby... a doubt niggled at back of her mind. For the past two years Baby had been her infallible guide, telling her who was good and who wasn't. It wasn't a good sign Baby had taken such violent exception to Ty.

Perhaps the dog was angry because Ty got past him. After all, while the dog slept, Ty entered the house undetected and made it all the way to the back door. That never would have happened if Baby had been awake.

But perhaps there was something bad about Ty that wasn't apparent, something the dog could sense but she couldn't. A shiver she couldn't suppress coursed through her.

Maybe Baby's reaction today was just a coincidence. But she must remember to keep her guard up around Ty Weston. If Baby continued to disapprove of him, something had to be wrong.

"Well, then," Ty said. "Are you ready to start work?"

Work! A magic word that made her temporarily forget her misgivings. Don't appear too eager, her mind cautioned.

"I should be able to free up some time for your project starting next week." It was difficult to keep a straight face, knowing how empty her calendar really was.

"Great. I'll call you on Monday."

He straightened his coffee-soaked jacket, and gathered his briefcase.

"I have just one question, though, if you don't mind. Something's been bothering me. How in the world did you ever come up with the name 'Baby' for that animal?"

Jenny felt her cheeks redden again.

"He was a stray, actually. I took him into the pound, to see if anyone had reported him missing, and the staff there said they knew him and his name was Tramp. I changed his name to Baby Doll after he...that is...after I adopted him. He's such a sweetheart."

"Ah, yes, Baby Doll. Makes sense. Suits him to a T, much better than Tramp. But if he were my dog, I'd have gone with Killer, or Satan."

Baby's coffee-colored paw prints were clearly visible on Ty's shirt, so she decided to let his comment go, even though it slurred her beloved dog.

"Just do me a favor," said Ty, grabbing his briefcase, with her rate sheet tucked inside. "Next time I come here, if I ever do, make sure your Baby stays in his crib. And have him repeat that lesson about not attacking clients. I don't think he got it the first time."

He said it with an engaging grin, and Jenny found it difficult to take offense.

"Don't worry. I'm sure Baby will come to like you."

At least I hope so, she added silently. Because if Baby doesn't trust you, I never will.

* * *

"So, what this new client of yours like?"

Drinking her coffee, Lauren studied her sister speculatively as Jenny sipped her chamomile tea. They were sitting in the House of Tea, a little shop just a few blocks from where Jenny lived.

"He's a client, that's all."

Her sister sighed impatiently. "Come on, Jenny, give. Is he cute or what?"

"Why are you so interested in him, anyway? He's a client, not a boyfriend."

Lauren tucked a wing of her smooth dark hair behind her ear. "He's the only man you've mentioned in two years. And he could be a boyfriend. Why not? It's not like you're marr--oh, for heaven's sake, Jenny! Don't tell me you were wearing that old wedding ring of Mom's when he came over to see you!"

"I suppose I may have been." Jenny twisted the ring on her finger. "It's become a habit."

"A bad habit, if you ask me."

"It's not very smart to let men who come to your house think you're alone and unprotected."

"Unprotected? With that monster of a dog you own? You're the most protected woman in Portland, maybe even in Oregon."

"Yeah, well, I haven't always been."

They both fell silent.

"I haven't forgotten," said Lauren in a softer voice. "But that happened a long time ago. You need to move on, girl."

"I am moving on. Really. It's just that I can't forget how helpless Dirk made me feel. He blamed me for his coming on to me."

Lauren grimaced. "I remember. Like asking him to come in for a cup of coffee was some universal code for an invitation to have sex."

Jenny shuddered. "I was just trying to be nice. Honestly."

Lauren patted her hand. "I believe you, Sis."

"Yeah, well, since that day I can't even look at a cup of coffee. I felt so violated by him. If it hadn't been for Baby, who knows how far Dirk would have gone."

"I know." her sister murmured. "What a jerk. Hence my pet name for him--Dirk the Jerk."

Jenny laughed reluctantly. "He sure underwent a quick change as soon as he saw Baby rushing headlong at him. I never saw a man squeal like that."

Lauren chortled. "I'd have given anything to see that. Who knew that your leaving your back door ajar and some steak scraps on the counter would bring a savior disguised as a stray into your house that night?"

She shook her head and continued. "From what you told me, Baby took a couple of good pieces out of that scum. Important pieces, as I recall. Nearly turned the guy into a soprano."

Lauren paused to sip her tea as she savored the image.

"It was bad luck, Jenny. An error in judgment. But it's all history now. It's time to put it behind you."

"It's not that easy." Jenny took her hand off her ring and started twisting a long curl of her hair instead.

"I thought I knew Dirk. I thought he was a friend. I thought he would leave when I asked him to, when I said no that night. But he didn't. I was so very wrong about him! Now I don't trust my instincts at all any more. I let Baby decide for me."

"And you've also let yourself turn into a near-recluse. Quitting your job at the agency--"

"I didn't just quit, Lauren. I had a plan. I went into business for myself. It was something I'd been wanting to do anyway."

"Perhaps. But how can you sustain that business if you don't go out in the world and meet people?"

"I have a few loyal clients..."

"But you need new ones if you're going to keep your head above water. So don't scare this one away, Jenny. Have some common sense."

Jenny loved her sister dearly, but knew her anxiety about meeting men was a subject Lauren couldn't relate to. How could she? With her happy marriage, beautiful children and comfortable lifestyle, Lauren lived a completely different life than Jenny's.

Talking about it was pointless. There was only one way to divert her sister. Get her started on her favorite pastime--matchmaking.

"To answer your question, sis, Ty Weston seems like a nice man."

"Good-looking?"

"Oh yes. I mean, I suppose some women might think so."

"And why would they think that?" Lauren prodded.

"Well, he's tall, and has nice hair, a good build, fantastic smile and really interesting eyes... and married, for all I know."

"I doubt it," said Lauren confidently. "When are you going to see him again?"

"I'm seeing him this afternoon. I'm going to meet him and his supplier. I'm putting together some ideas for his newsletter, and I've drawn up a contract. But I'm not sure the job is actually mine yet."

"I think you can count on it. Just be friendly to him, and you might actually get something out of this experience. You're still young, you know. Twenty-five isn't exactly ancient."

"Not like your advanced age of thirty-one." Jenny smiled.

"Having an older husband makes me more mature, little sister. But don't you dare change the subject. You never know, this guy could be the one, the man who can finally get through all the elaborate defenses you've been building these past two years."

Jenny gave her sister a fond smile.

"You're like all married women, Lauren. You're convinced all any single woman thinks about is getting married. Well, that's not high on my list of priorities. In fact, I'm not the least bit interested in Ty Weston romantically."

Lauren snorted in disbelief.

"I'm not! All I'm interested in right now is building my business. You are right about one thing--I've let a lot of things slide over these past two years. Ty Weston is the first new client I've had in a long while, and I'm proud he sought me out based on my reputation. I really want to build my business. I love being self-employed."

"Are you sure working at home is not just your way of hiding from the world?"

"Positive. I've given it a lot of thought. You don't have to be traumatized to realize slaving away all day in an airless cubicle is no way to live. Not when you have a better alternative. Or you're willing to make one for yourself."

Lauren was unconvinced. "All I ask is that you don't dismiss any possibilities with Ty Weston out of hand."

"The possibilities you're thinking of look dim. He may be cute, but Baby hates him."

Lauren groaned. "Not that dog again."

"Baby is a better judge of character than I am," retorted Jenny defensively. "And for some reason, Baby doesn't like Ty. In fact, Baby tried to rip him apart, just like he did Dirk."

Lauren shrugged. "How many other men has Baby seen at your place over the past two years? None, I'll bet. No wonder he was hostile. That dog wants you all to himself."

Relief flooded through Jenny, though she struggled to hide it from her sister. "You think that's all it is?"

"I'm certain. So don't worry about it, and go see Ty. But Jenny, please, leave Baby at home!"

* * *

Ty gazed in satisfaction at the misty June afternoon as the espresso machine in the cart before him hissed with steam. Cold, cloudy days meant a brisk demand for hot drinks. People grumbled about the rainy Northwest weather, but it was money in the bank if you sold coffee.

After a year of operating this cart as well as two others, he was ready to take his operation indoors. Business on the streets of downtown Portland was better than he could have ever anticipated when he drew up his first business plan as a student in graduate school.

Ty had spent plenty of time researching his product, his market, and even the location he chose for his enterprise. He opened his first cart three years ago, right on this corner by the U.S. Bank Corp Plaza. He well remembered hocking everything he owned for his first Italian-made espresso machine.

It had been worth the investment. A year later he'd made enough money to open another cart on Broadway, near Pioneer Courthouse Square, a convivial brick-lined area some called "Portland's living room."

A third cart soon followed, among the funky boutiques and restaurants in the trendy Northwest Twenty-third Avenue neighborhood. And now he was ready to go to the next level of his plan, and open a real store, with all the expenses and potential profit that entailed.

"Great coffee, Ty," said the smartly dressed young blonde standing next to him. "If I do say so myself."

Ty laughed. "Which you would have every right to do, Cheryl. After all, it's the coffee beans you supply that give No Jive Java the reputation for having the best coffee in town."

"You know I love my work, Ty." With just the tip of her tongue, she licked the white foam from her café latte off the corner of her lips. "And I love seeing you make a success of your business."

She lifted her cup again to her lips. Ty appreciated the vivid picture she presented in her tailored red wool suit with its big gold buttons, their color echoing the champagne hue of her long hair. He was smart enough to realize Cheryl's presence at his cart drew the attention of more than one potential male customer.

Cheryl raised her wrist and consulted her gold watch.

"Your new publicity person is late, and I have a meeting with an importer on the other side of town. If you want those Kenyan beans we discussed, I may have to leave."

"Stick around a few more minutes. I know Jenny will be here. It's important the two of you meet, since we'll all be working together."

He scanned the street, and saw Jenny turn the corner.

"Here she comes now."

Once he spotted her, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Rich mahogany-colored hair tumbled around her shoulders, her gait as light and graceful as a dancer's as she threaded her way through the people on the crowded sidewalk.

His heart seemed to leap into his throat. Then he remembered she was a condition of his loan.

"Oh my," said Cheryl, the lightest trace of disapproval in her voice. "She's awfully young, isn't she? Are you sure she's qualified? After all, you can't afford to work with amateurs at this stage of the game."

"It's more like I can't afford not to work with her."

He saw Cheryl raise her eyebrows questioningly, but he didn't say anything more.

Jenny was close now, so close he could see what looked like trepidation in her eyes. She'd seemed fearful the last time they'd met, too. He wondered what made her come across that way.

Stepping around his cart, he extended his hand to her.

"Welcome to No Jive Java, Jenny. My home away from home. Or one of them, at least."

Hesitating just a fraction of a second, Jenny gave him her hand and another of her rare smiles. Dimples, he thought wonderingly. I didn't know she had dimples. How did I miss those?

He heard Cheryl clear her throat impatiently next to him.

"Jenny, I want you to meet Cheryl Moss. She's my sole supplier, and buyer of the beans that give No Jive Java the best coffee in Portland."

"Pleased to meet you, Cheryl," said Jenny gravely. She shifted the bag she carried, and extended her hand.

"And Cheryl, this is Jenny Vaughn."

With a thin smile, Cheryl clasped Jenny's outstretched hand limply, using the tips of her fingers.

"So you're the one who's going to do Ty's newsletter, is that right? Tell me, if you don't mind my asking, have you done many newsletters? I'm just curious."

"Oh, yes, I have. Online as well as paper. I also do advertisements, brochures, press releases--pretty much anything in the way of publicity."

"Well, welcome aboard." Cheryl wrapped her arm around Ty's. "We're excited about expanding this business, aren't we, Ty? And the right publicity will be a great asset."

Ty tried to disengage his arm without yanking it away. He'd never known Cheryl to be this clingy. What was going on here, anyway? He decided to be blunt, speaking before he thought.

"Are you all right, Cheryl? You're acting strange."

She gave him a look that could have curdled milk. Then she laughed lightly.

"Oh, Ty, you are such a character. Always joking around. But I'd better be getting on to my meeting."

She flashed another toothy smile at Jenny.

"We'll get together over coffee another time, Jenny, and I'll give you all the information you'll need about our business for the newsletter. Everything that's not a secret, right, Ty?" she added with a conspiratorial wink.

"We don't have any secrets, Cheryl. And we won't be getting together with Jenny over coffee. She's a confirmed tea drinker."

"You don't say." Cheryl stopped still. A look of surprise overtook her features. "You don't drink any coffee at all, Jenny?"

Jenny shook her head.

"Well, well. I can't imagine Ty relating to anyone who doesn't even drink his product. I suppose you'll just have to use your imagination. We'll see how far that takes you."

She laughed, and Ty was bemused by the relief he thought he saw on his supplier's face.

"You didn't mention you had a partner," said Jenny when Cheryl left.

"I don't. Cheryl just works with me. No Jive Java is my business."

"She seems to think it's hers and yours." Jenny wrung her hands lightly as she spoke, and her gaze darted nervously up and down the street. Though he tried not to notice, Ty found her behavior puzzling.

"I guess Cheryl figures these are her beans since she works so hard to scout out the suppliers. It makes her a little possessive of the business. I wanted you to meet her, because she can give you lots of colorful information about the source of our coffee beans. I know you two will get along just fine."

Doubt shone in her big brown eyes. She gripped her bag tightly. "These streets certainly are crowded during the day, aren't they," she said a little breathlessly.

Ty had the urge to calm her down. "Hey, are you sure I can't get you something? I know you don't drink coffee, but how about a steamed milk? It's on the house."

He saw her waver, and pressed on. "Steamers are especially good with flavoring, and very relaxing. I'm guessing you'll like the hazelnut."

"Thank you. It sounds great." She rubbed her hands and pulled her cable-knit sweater tighter around her shoulders.

"There, you see? I'll bet you could use a little warming up."

Ty poured milk into the machine and flipped the switch. Jenny stepped back out of the way. A man in a black suit and striped red silk tie rushed up to the cart and distractedly ordered an espresso.

While Ty made his coffee, the man put a cell phone not much larger than a pack of gum to his ear and began an animated, one-sided conversation.

Behind him a woman in a long dress, sandals, and unnecessarily oversized sunglasses shivered and tapped her foot impatiently. She ordered an elaborate hot drink crowned with a swirl of whipped cream. Four other customers followed.

Ty felt himself slip into an easy rhythm, chatting and joking with each customer. Most of the customers responded to him with a smile, just for a moment letting go of their hurry and worry.

When the last person left with a latte, Ty turned to Jenny. She was looking at him with something like awe.

"Here's your steamer," he said. "It's a little late, but still hot. I didn't expect the sudden rush."

"How do you do that?" she asked wonderingly. "You seem so comfortable with everyone. You even knew some of them by name."

He shrugged. "I like people." He handed her a tall, frothy steamed milk. "That's why I love this business. I'd never be happy stuck in an office behind a desk somewhere."

"Then we have something in common." She took a tentative sip of her drink. "This is good," she said, with another of her dazzling smiles. She seemed much calmer now. "Maybe I should write about your steamers."

He laughed. "By all means. Mention they're good hot or cold."

"Cold?"

"That's how the old tomcat who visits me each morning prefers them. Straight up and cold, served on a saucer."

She smiled even more warmly at him. "You feed a stray cat?"

"Sure. I've got plenty of milk. Why not share it?"

"That's nice. I've always trusted people who are kind to animals. I wasn't too sure you even liked animals after what happened with Baby at my house."

"Hey, it was your dog who declared war, not me."

She stopped smiling and looked away, troubled. He wanted to touch her, just to reassure her, but contented himself with words instead.

"Does the fact that your dog tried to kill me make you not trust me?"

Her clear eyes confirmed his supposition.

"I see it does." So it was true. How was he supposed to deal with that?

In the course of his life he'd been called on to persuade many people of his good intentions and judgment. There was his father, the man he'd bought his equipment from on loan, and even his high school girlfriend's father. But he'd never had to justify himself to a dog before.

Obviously it was important to Jenny that her dog like him. He wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but he was increasingly convinced that it was important to him that Jenny trust him. So he'd have to do his best to win over that damned dog of hers.

"Listen, are you ready to mock up the first issue of the newsletter?"

She took a deep breath. "I will be, when I get some more material. And of course, you need to look over the contract I've prepared."

She reached into her bag and handed him a manila folder. "It's in here."

"Great. Looks very formal. I'll check this out, and see to it you get all the material you need for the newsletter. Then I'll come to your office one morning next week and we can go over the fine points."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you sure you really want to come back to my house?"

"Why not?"

"But, Baby--"

"Don't worry about your dog. I have a way with dogs," he said with a bravado he didn't feel. "Animals love me."

"So I saw." Her tone was dry.

"That was a fluke. It won't happen again."

She looked unconvinced, and doubt rippled through Ty as well. He remembered those angry yellow eyes, the dripping bared teeth.... well, he wasn't going to let a dog stand in his way. There was too much at stake, everything he'd worked so hard for.

He straightened his shoulders. A steely determination stiffened his spine.

"You'll see, Jenny. Next week I'll have your Baby eating out of the palm of my hand."

Chapter Three

Baby wouldn't dare bite the hand that fed him. At least, Ty hoped the monstrous dog wouldn't, though he wouldn't put it past him.

Jenny left, looking a lot more relaxed than she had when she'd come. She was an unusual woman, one with lots of layers.

Most of the women Ty knew were pretty easy to figure out. Jenny wasn't. That intrigued him. He sensed she was the type of woman he could spend years getting to really know, with fresh revelations all the time. Definitely not boring.

But she was married. Ty made it a rule never to mess around with other men's wives. If they were honorable women, they'd resent it. And if they weren't, well, he didn't want to have anything to do with the type of woman who would cheat on her husband.

Still, there was something about Jenny that attracted him, a wounded strength, not to mention a beautiful body. Enigmatic eyes, a spark of intelligence that shone through every time she spoke, a softness and dignity in her words.

He glanced at his watch. Mid-afternoon, time to fold up his operation. One last customer approached.

"Coffee, please. Nothing fancy, just your best dark roast."

It was the Dark Lord himself.

"Ellison! What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I had a meeting in the office tower down the street, and I thought this would be easier than trying to call you. Have you contacted Jenny Vaughn yet?"

"Contacted, and hired her, just as you requested. She's already got the newsletter underway. And she's even prepared a contract. She seems very professional."

"Contract?" Ellison raised his eyebrows. "What's this about a contract? I told you to hire her."

"I did. She's preparing the newsletter for me."

"Not as a contractor. I wanted you to hire her as an employee. So she could receive benefits, health and retirement."

"Are you nuts? Even I don't have health and retirement."

"But you will, Weston, you will. With the money I'm lending you, you're going to incorporate and form a real business, storefront and all, right?"

"Well, yes..."

"And it's important to me that Jenny has the stability of regular employment. She's been on her own, without benefits, for too long now. That situation has to change. And you're going to change it."

"What if she doesn't want to go into regular employment?"

Ellison laughed impatiently. "That's ridiculous. Of course she does. Everyone wants security, no matter what any individual may tell you."

Ty shook his head. "If she'd wanted a job, surely she could have gotten one. Unless there's something wrong with her."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with her. She's just been a little...shy, of late. I'm sure she'll jump at the chance to be in your employ, if you make the offer attractive enough. As I'm sure you will."

Ty didn't miss Ellison's message. If he didn't convince Jenny to work for him, as a regular employee of No Jive Java, there wouldn't be a store for anyone to work in. Anger blazed through him and his jaw tensed painfully.

"I don't like being your pawn in this, Ellison. Why don't you go to her directly?"

"I can't," he said simply. "We have a history. She wouldn't listen to me. In fact, she'd be liable to do the opposite of whatever I wanted her to do. That's why I need you. And, if I'm not mistaken, you need me."

Ty was silent.

"Oh, come on, Weston. It's not as if we're plotting against her."

"Aren't we? It seems like we are to me."

"Of course we aren't. This is for her own good. She'll thank you in the long run."

"I don't like this, I don't like this at all. Just what is your interest in this woman, Ellison? What does her husband have to say about it? In fact, why doesn't her husband provide her with these benefits you're so worried about?"

"Husband?" Ellison looked startled.

"That's what I said. Husband. The woman wears a wedding ring."

"Does she now?" This seemed to amuse the older man. "I wouldn't waste my time worrying about her husband, Weston. I suspect he's very, how shall I put it, irrelevant to her."

"So they're estranged?"

"I'm reasonably positive he's not a factor in her life."

That news made Ty feel wondrously relieved. But he wouldn't allow himself to be diverted.

"You still haven't told me why you care so much about her, Ellison."

"That's none of your business."

"Isn't it? Perhaps I'll just refuse your offer."

Ellison shrugged. "These are my terms, Ty. Take it or leave it. I've only got the venture capital to lose if things go awry, and I can afford the hit. But if you don't take the money, you've got everything to lose. Your dreams of a thriving business won't go anywhere without capital. You'll be peddling three-dollar lattes from now until the end of time, and your revenue stream will be more like a trickle without further investment."

Ty balled his hands into fists. He shoved them out of Ellison's view.

"Yes, I do see your point. But I don't think you see mine. I'm not a puppet who takes well to being told what to do. Entrepreneurs are a unique breed, Ellison. We have to do things in a way that makes sense to us. You're asking me...no, forcing me to hire someone I don't know for a reason you won't explain. How can I agree to such a restriction, having my hands tied, without even knowing why?"

Ellison smiled enigmatically, and took a sip of his coffee.

"If we're going to be in business together, Ty, we have to trust each other. I'm trusting you with my investment, and you have free rein to make all the business decisions, your way. You'll have to trust me that there is an honorable reason for hiring Jenny Vaughn, and not just contracting with her for her publication services. I would tell you the reason if I could, but I must keep a confidence. I really do believe this condition is good for you, good for her, and good for me, or I wouldn't require it."

Ellison drained his cup, and tossed it in the nearby trash can.

"Tear up her contract, Ty. I want Jenny Vaughn to be on your payroll. For her sake, and yours."

* * *

Very carefully Jenny laid out the printed newsletter on which she'd labored the entire weekend. It looked first-rate, spread out on her desk. The graphics were clean and sharp, the articles were short, snappy and to the point, and the clip art illustrations she'd found gave the newsletter a contemporary, jazzy look.

She was proud of it. It was a fine piece. At least her abilities hadn't suffered over the past two years, not the way she had.

Maybe she'd even enter this newsletter in the annual contest held by her professional technical writing society. It would be her way of announcing she was back, and ready to fully compete in the business world again.

For the first time in a long time, she felt good about herself. And she owed it all to her client, Ty Weston. To think she still commanded enough word of mouth in this town that he'd come to her for her services! Undoubtedly, this commission from him would be the start of her success.

It also could be the start of something else, her heart told her. A thrill of anticipation flared in her as she thought of him coming to her house.

Coupled with it, though, was a flicker of apprehension. She well remembered how he filled her small rooms with his masculine presence.

She had so carefully constructed her haven, permitting nothing and no one to disturb it. While her treacherous heart welcomed letting Ty in, her better sense warned against it.

After all, if Baby didn't like him, he couldn't be all that great.

She went into her sunny kitchen to make sure the tea kettle was full. After much deliberation, she laid out a plate of gourmet chocolate chip cookies. She had originally thought of lemon bars, but Ty seemed more like the chocolate chip cookie type. Popular, and unpretentious.

She came back to her office just in time to see her cat Dusty settle on the laid-out newsletter sheets and begin to take a bath.

"No, Dusty, bad cat!"

He went limp, like an oversized rag doll, as she lifted him. The doorbell rang, and she heard Baby stir from the back of the kitchen.

"Stay, Baby. Don't get up," she called.

She went to the door, the cat still in her arms.

"I see you've got another protector," Ty said as she opened the door. "Is that cat attack-trained, too?"

He said it with a heart-stopping grin, and Jenny found herself tripping over her words in reply.

"Oh, no, Dusty, why, Dusty wouldn't hurt a flea. He's much too lazy to bother. Dust Bunny, that's his full name. He'd let a burglar take everything in the house as long as his sleep wasn't disturbed."

"So if he's not functional, he must be ornamental."

Ty gave the cat a gentle stroke, then a few good spine-scratchings. The cat started a rusty purr.

Jenny was impressed. Not many men knew the best way to pet a longhaired cat like Dusty. A smile of delight touched her lips. How could Ty know a sure way into her affections was through her pets? Dusty was purring his brains out, deeply contented. Now if only Baby liked this man...

She marshaled her thoughts. "Won't you come in? The newsletter's done, and ready for you to review."

"Great. But first," he looked around uneasily, "where is that dog of yours?"

"Baby's in the kitchen, on his mat. Would you like me to put him outside?"

She made the offer reluctantly. Even though Ty seemed less and less a threat, she felt more secure with Baby in the house.

"No, actually, I have something for him. A peace offering, a meaty one. Lead me to him."

Jenny hesitated. On Ty's last visit, the only meat that piqued Baby's interest was on Ty's bones. Still, if he wanted to risk another encounter...

Depositing Dusty on the sofa, Jenny led Ty into the kitchen with great foreboding.

In the back of the kitchen, in an alcove where the washing machine and dryer stood, Baby laid on his fuzzy pink throw rug. He looked up challengingly when he saw Ty behind Jenny.

"Hi there, boy," said Ty, a shade too heartily. "Look what I've got for you."

Ty reached into his pocket. The massive dog lumbered to his feet. Slowly Ty extracted a plastic bag that had some sort of dried-up brown chunks in it. Ty opened the bag, took one out, placed it on his palm and extended his hand.

Jenny saw beads of sweat start to form on Ty's forehead.

Keeping his eyes on Ty, the dog walked over to him. With his large, moist black nose, the dog sniffed Ty thoroughly before letting his nose rest again on his hand.

His thin doggy lips smacked open and the chunk vanished into the dog's cavernous mouth. Then, to Jenny's surprise, Baby sat patiently in front of Ty and waited for another piece.

"Cooked, cut-up hot dogs," Ty explained to Jenny as he rifled the bag for more. "A friend who's a dog trainer suggested it. Said he uses it for training all sorts of dogs, from toy poodles to Great Danes. All dogs go for it, he told me."

"You've certainly won Baby over." Jenny almost bubbled with happiness and relief. "He's never been this calm with a stranger before."

"Well, I hope I won't be a stranger very much longer. To you or Baby."

The look in his eyes softened their color to a smoky blue-gray, and Jenny experienced a strange sensation in her chest. It was as if something very tight was trying to loosen.

He looked so substantial, so solid, standing there in her kitchen, feeding hot dog bits to Baby. What was even better, Baby seemed to be perfectly comfortable with him.

Maybe Lauren was right. Maybe she should give Ty a chance.

As soon as she thought it, the warm glow she'd been feeling rose to a hot blush in her cheeks. After all, Ty had never implied or acted as though he saw her as anything other than a contractor. He was just an out-going, friendly person who probably made anyone he was with feel special.

She was letting her imagination carry her away. For all she knew, he had a girlfriend. Perhaps even that beautiful woman, Cheryl, whom she met last week and who seemed so possessive of him.

"Well, that ought to hold you, you big dog," said Ty, straightening up.

"I think we're friends now," he added with satisfaction. "It's safe to proceed with our business."

Business! Yes, she'd best keep her mind on business. She cleared her throat.

"The newsletter is in my office. Come and I'll show you."

"Hey, this is really good," said Ty a few minutes later as he examined Jenny's work. "Just what I was looking for."

"You sound surprised."

He laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound that way."

His glance took in her whole office, set up in the bungalow's dining room. "This looks like a nice arrangement."

She basked in the warm approval of his tone.

"Yes, I love it. I can work quietly and undisturbed. It was so frustrating in my last job, trying to write among the phone calls and interruptions."

Ty was silent for a moment, a look of deliberation on his face.

"Working in your own business is great, of course," he said slowly, "except for one or two drawbacks."

"Drawbacks?" His tone made her apprehensive.

"Well, for example, there's no sick leave. And health insurance can be expensive."

"Oh, do you have that problem, too? I still haven't found a policy I can afford that goes beyond catastrophic care."

"You don't have any health insurance?" He gazed at her searchingly.

Her defenses went up.

"I see a naturopath regularly, and she wouldn't be covered on any policy I could find anyway. Besides, I'm pretty healthy."

He shook his head. "I won't even ask if you have any retirement funds set aside."

"Retirement?" She laughed. "That's still a lifetime away."

Ty said nothing for another long moment. He tapped his fingers on the back of her copy. His face suddenly looked set.

"I have an idea. Why don't you work for me? I'm in the process of getting group insurance for my employees. The rates are reasonable, and the coverage excellent."

Jenny was confused. "What do you mean, work for you? I already work for you."

"I mean officially. With an office, and a telephone, and benefits."

"I already have an office."

"You could work from home whenever you want."

"That's telecommuting. That's not really the same thing, is it? I have my own business. I can still do jobs for you, without actually working for you."

"Well, I'm not sure I can hire you as a contractor. I need to have you on my payroll, as a regular employee."

"Why?"

"Because regardless of what we call our business relationship, the IRS is going to see you as an employee, and me as your employer. I'll have to pay you wages on a W-2 form anyway...my accountant doesn't seem to think there's any way around it, you being a sole proprietor with few clients and all."

He was insistent. Jenny was baffled. Hadn't they already settled this?

"I'm sorry, Ty, there must be a misunderstanding. I thought you understood that you were a client of mine. I don't have any interest in 'going captive' again and working for a company. I have all the benefits I need right here."

"Jenny--"

The doorbell rang.

Ty sighed in exasperation. "That must be Cheryl. I told her to meet us here. She has some more information for the newsletter."

"Ty, I can't do a newsletter for you till we work this out. The contract--"

The doorbell rang again and the dog started to bark. Jenny moved to the door. "I'd better let her in."

Cheryl stood in the doorway, holding two cups of coffee. Her long blonde hair spilled onto her shoulders, and she wore crisp white linen trousers and a matching linen blazer.

"Hello, Jenny. I took the liberty of bringing some coffee for Ty and myself. It's a new blend I want him to try. I didn't bother bringing any for you, since you don't drink coffee."

She breezed past Jenny and walked into the house. "Charming house, simply charming. I love these old places."

The way she said old, Jenny thought, it sounded like her house was about to fall apart.

Cheryl continued her inspection. "This must be the kitchen, and there's your--oh, my God! What's that?"

Jenny heard a low growl, and rushed into her kitchen to see Baby holding Cheryl at bay. Cheryl backed slowly into the dining room through the connecting door, and seeing Ty, threw herself at him.

"I'm scared of dogs," she said in a whisper against his shoulder.

Jenny tried to explain. Though apologetic, she was also exasperated with Cheryl's dramatic reaction.

"Baby can hear you, whether you whisper or not. I think he didn't like you coming back here so quickly, without me. He's always on the look-out for intruders, you know."

"Intruders," said Cheryl faintly. "But I thought you worked at home?"

"All the more reason for Baby to be vigilant," said Ty, springing to Jenny's defense. Jenny could have kissed him right there and then. "He's her security system."

Cheryl tried to recover her poise. "Here's some coffee for you, Ty."

She handed him one of the lidded cups. Baby cocked his head at her movement. A low rumble came from his throat.

"Is it okay to move?" Cheryl asked, irritation in her voice.

"I'll put Baby out," said Jenny reluctantly. She grabbed her pet by his collar, and walked him over to the back door.

"Wait," Ty said, stopping her. "Let me give him another treat. I don't want him to forget we're friends."

He took another hot dog chunk from his pocket, and holding his coffee in his other hand, he extended the meat morsel to the dog.

Baby's nose quivered. With a snap he took the meat, and caught Ty's hand in the process.

Ty bit back an oath. Cheryl screamed, and spilled her coffee all over her white blazer. Jenny wanted to die of embarrassment. Why did Baby have to bite Ty now, in front of Miss Perfect? And what if he'd hurt Ty?

With all her strength, Jenny grabbed the dog's collar and pulled him through the door into the backyard.

"I'm so sorry," she said, coming back into the room.

Ty was examining his hand. "It's okay, no harm done. He didn't even break the skin. Not too much, anyway."

He tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow.

"That's a vicious animal," Cheryl snapped over her shoulder as she daubed at the stain on her jacket with one of Jenny's dishtowels. "You should have him put down."

"He's not that way with everyone," Jenny protested. "He's a perfect lamb with my sister, and her husband and their kids. He just--"

"--hates me," Ty finished for her.

"Well, we can't meet here," Cheryl said. "This is ridiculous. You need an office somewhere else. Somewhere more business-like. More professional."

"Jenny's office is fine," said Ty easily.

"It's impossible," Cheryl retorted. "I refuse to come back here. I mean it, Ty. You may have to get yourself another supplier. I can't work under these conditions."

Jenny closed her eyes. Everything was unraveling. She drew a deep breath, and willed herself not to tremble in front of Ty and this imperious woman.

"I regret this accident, and I'll be happy to pay for the cleaning of your jacket, Cheryl, if you'll submit the bill to me."

She took a deep breath, and gathered all of her courage to continue.

"However, my dog is my affair. No one tells me what to do with him. No one."

She turned to Ty. What she had to say next was even harder.

"You have every right to end our association right here, Ty--after all, no contract has been signed. I'll understand if that's what you want to do. Should you wish to continue using my services, however, I'm sure we can work out a more agreeable meeting place."

"That won't be necessary," Cheryl began.

"Cheryl, if you don't mind, I'll speak for myself and my business."

An undeniable hint of steel lay beneath his mild tone.

Cheryl closed her mouth, her lips set in a thin line of disapproval.

"Jenny, I have no intention of terminating our arrangement," Ty continued, his tone softening. "I want you working on my newsletter as well as future projects. We can meet in my office, though believe me, in my cramped apartment I don't have nearly the room you do here."

"At least we won't have to worry about being attacked," said Cheryl with a sniff.

Ty said nothing. Jenny gazed miserably out the back door, where Baby sat at attention on the stoop.

Would the love of her dog cost her this job she needed? Would it cost her even more, the chance to get to know Ty better? How could she ever develop a relationship with a man her dog hated?

"I'm going," Cheryl announced. "I'll leave this packet of information with you, Jenny, and you can call if you have any questions. Ty, are you coming with me? I have business to discuss with you, and I want to do it somewhere where I don't have to fear for my life."

"I'll be right along."

He watched Cheryl leave.

"We still have some issues to resolve," he said, turning to Jenny. "How about dinner tonight? There's a quiet restaurant overlooking the river, not too far from my place."

Jenny's heart turned over. He wanted to meet with her, after all this? It was almost too good to be true. In fact, maybe it was too good to be true. Maybe she shouldn't risk another bad encounter between Ty and her dog.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for you to come back here. To pick me up, I mean. If that's what you were thinking."

"You can meet me at the restaurant, if you like. We need to settle a few things between us. And I'd like to get to know you better."

He smiled that heart-melting smile of his.

"So we can work together more efficiently, of course."

"Of course," she echoed. "I suppose dinner wouldn't hurt."

"Good." His smile faded. "Are you sure your husband won't mind?"

"Husband?"

He glanced pointedly at the ring on her hand.

For a minute she didn't know what he was talking about. Then she remembered she was wearing her mother's wedding ring. Why did she ever start that silly deception? Now she'd have to explain it. Eventually, that is.

"Oh, my husband. He doesn't, that is, we don't--it's no problem," she finished lamely.

"I understand." He smiled knowingly, which baffled her. "I'll see you at eight, then, at the River Garden."

He left the kitchen. Catching sight of him move, Baby began to bark. Jenny felt a Rottweiler-sized headache start to throb at her temples.

* * *

"Are you crazy?" Lauren yelled loud enough to be heard above the din of the exercise machines.

It was just mid-afternoon, but the gym was already crowded. "You're letting a dog influence how you feel about someone?"

"I know it doesn't make sense to you," Jenny said, cycling harder as she spoke. "But leaving Baby's intuition aside, how can I have a relationship, even just a business relationship, with someone who doesn't get along with my dog? How would that work?"

Lauren was blunt. "You could always get rid of the dog."

"Not you, too." Jenny wiped the back of her neck with her sweat towel. "You really don't understand. I don't want to have to choose between the two of them. It seems a poor way to reward Baby for all his devotion."

"It would be a shame to lose a great guy like Ty over some dog's whim."

"You sound as if you know Ty."

"Just from what you've told me about him. I can't believe he's as bad as your dog thinks he is."

"Well, Baby barked at Cheryl, too, which was very perceptive of him in my opinion. Baby's got good instincts."

Lauren laughed. "Maybe he just recognizes a female member of his species when he sees one."

"Lauren, you're terrible." Jenny laughed also, and then stopped. "He thinks I'm married--"

"That damn ring!" Lauren exploded.

"--but it doesn't seem to phase him any. What do you suppose that means? That he's the kind of guy who goes out with married women?"

"Are you going out with him?" asked Lauren deliberately.

A blush heated Jenny's cheeks. "Just a business dinner."

"I see. Well, you'll get a good idea then what kind of a guy he is. But I do wish you'd take that ring off. It's dishonest."

"I'll take it off when I'm ready, Lauren."

She squirmed uncomfortably, because she knew her sister was right. Yet she needed a barrier between herself and Ty. She was far too attracted to him for her own peace of mind.

Jenny checked her heart rate on the machine. She was right in her target zone.

"You know, Ty said something strange at my house this morning, right before Cheryl came. He was pressing me to get on his payroll. Give up my contractor status, and be an employee. He was really insistent."

Lauren pedaled harder. "That is strange."

"I tried to explain to him that I had no interest in giving up my business. I thought, as a small business owner himself, he'd understand."

Jenny took a long pull on her water bottle.

"That's one of the reasons I want to talk to him tonight. Clear up any misunderstandings. If nothing else, he's got to realize it's cheaper for me to work for him as a contractor rather than as an employee. He doesn't have to provide me any benefits that way."

"Pity," said Lauren dryly. "I'll bet he could provide you with lots of benefits, if you'd only let him."

She hopped off her bike. "Well, I'm done, and off to the shower."

"Oh, no, you don't."

With a firm squeeze of her water bottle, Jenny shot a stream of water at her sister, squarely hitting her leotard.

"That ought to get you started on your shower, Lauren. Benefits, indeed!"

"Don't act so shocked, little sister," said Lauren, wiping her leotard with her towel. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. There are some things only a man, and not 'man's best friend,' can do. Keep that in mind."

As if that wasn't all I was thinking about lately, thought Jenny wryly. But she'd rather die than give Lauren the satisfaction of knowing that.

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