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No child should have to go through what his family had put him through. Sure, she’d had her own issues with her parents, but nothing like what he’d survived. Really, it was no wonder he was a little messed up.

Rodrigo was still talking, but she’d missed some of it. “You’re content there for now, but if you ever change your mind, or need to get out of there, just remember I’m an escape clause. You can stay with me until you decide wha

t you want to do and get back on your feet. Hell, you can just stay – I’m rarely home anyway. You’d have free run of the house, and you don’t have to worry that it would be awkward or that I’d expect anything.”

“If I ever went there to stay with you, even temporarily, he’d think something was going on between us and he’d never forgive you. I won’t be a wedge in your friendship. If things get bad I can always go to a shelter.”

“Fuck that. I’d set you up at a hotel first.”

They both sighed.

“I have to go get some work done. I’m serious though, Min, if something happens and you don’t call me for help, I’ll be pissed.”

“I’m not your responsibility, Mr. Solis.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are, preciosa,” he said, his tone warm with passion and affection. “You both are.”

She blushed. It was hard not to have a slight crush on him, considering how often they talked, and what she and Severin usually ended up doing with him when he came over.

They said their goodbyes, and Minnow hung up, rubbing her ear. She’d been on the phone with Church for almost an hour before Rodrigo had called.

“Who was that?”

Minnow screamed, then fell back in the chair clutching her chest. Severin stood in the doorway, shaggy and wild, anger in his pale gaze.

Why was he angry?

“That was Mr. Solis. He’s on his way to Italy for a week, and wanted you to know. Before that I was on the phone with Church, who was looking for you. The girls are getting up to mischief, as usual, and he was calling to blame you for being a bad influence.”

Only then did she notice he was carrying a large plastic container. Muddy and battered as it was, he still set it down on the clean floor. She wasn’t about to complain about the mess it would make.

Would she be in trouble for sitting in his chair? She jumped up.

Without pausing, he walked to her, stopping only when he was standing practically on top of her. His proximity, paired with his incredible height, forced her back down into the seat. She had to look way up to see his expression.

His eyes were narrowed, menacing, and in response her heartbeat kicked up a notch. So close to his zipper, she fantasized about him drawing it down, and about him grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth down on his cock. With the kind of anger he’d been harboring, she could only imagine the ferocity of the facefucking he’d give her.

She shuddered, gazing up at him, fluttery feelings in her stomach that she seemed to have no control over. Lust – love? How was she supposed to interpret her visceral responses to him? Her feelings for him were far too complicated to sort out without a specialist developing some sort of graph or flow chart to explain it.

One of his big hands came up and traced the collar he’d locked around her neck with a slow, mesmerizing sensuality that made her pussy twitch. She angled her hips, trying to rub herself against the firm leather seat to take the edge off the ache.

“Am I in trouble?” she whispered.

The interest in his gaze flared into desire. “Maybe later. I found that bin on the side of the road when I was on my way back from the metal supplier. Take care of it.” Without another word he walked out.

Take care of it? He couldn’t have put the old bin out in the shed with the other garbage? And since when did start picking up garbage on the side of the highway?

Confused, she moved to pick up the dirty container and move it outside where it would stop dripping on her clean floor. Inside was a matted old fur coat.

She squealed in surprise when it moved.

A dog?

A little nose poked up, then another. Caterwauling began. Four sets of bright eyes. Four little beasts roly-poly tumbling over each other. They were wet and mud-splattered and shivering, and their legs were wobbly and seemed too short for their big round bellies.

“Mister Leduc!” she called. Puppies? Where on earth did he get puppies? Where was their mother?

He appeared in the doorway, frowning. “Is there a problem, Miss Korsgaard?”


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