Collared (Going to the Dogs) Read Online Free PDF Page A

assigned to represent Brooke’s opponent. Brooke owned both Pawlish, an upscale doggie grooming spa and Bone Appétit, a doggie treat business. Drew was now an advocacy lawyer and they were getting married in October, just two short months from now.
    And, last but not least, Poe Madigan, when she’d been threatened and Harper had meddled and hired Jared Taylor as her undercover bodyguard. Poe, an amazing vet with a cool Goth girl vibe, loved bacon and actually believed in the Zombie Apocalypse. Jared was a transplanted Texan and owned Taylor Securities, a security firm.
    She thought wistfully of Poe and Jared and the bomb they had dropped on the group of friends only a week ago. Poe was pregnant and she and Jared had decided to get married…in Vegas…in a week…mostly because they were head over heels in love and didn’t want to wait. Now they were enjoying their honeymoon at the Sinclair villa on Gozo.
    She saw the gang—minus the honeymoon couple, of course—at a table in the back, and made her way across the FLASH dance floor. People were having a great time. She saw more than a few celebrities, and waved to a couple that she knew. But she wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of them. She was fuming all over again about Detective Caleb Shaw.
    It was bad enough that she’d just had a taste of closeness with Nate and now she wanted that more than ever. Then he had to walk into the penthouse. Damn , he was so amazingly gorgeous that at first she’d been speechless.
    Thick black hair with heavy bangs parted to the side, fell just below his temple, and, even though he’d shoved them back a couple of times, the stubborn locks fell back across his forehead, giving him that tough, rebel look. The hair in the back just brushed his collar, probably not regulation, but she guessed this man often went under cover for his job and needed to blend in with the rough crowd he often worked as a robbery detective.
    He had been carrying a weapon in the shoulder holster underneath his grey suit jacket, too. He moved with it like it was a part of him. His dangerous grace intense as he stalked after her through her expansive penthouse made it seem cramped and airless.
    Those direct, deep-set, chocolate brown eyes full of street-wise bravado made her heart beat faster. This man had seen and probably done violence. He was so different from any other man she’d ever met. He was a shot of pure, hot adrenaline.
    His features were finely chiseled, high cheekbones, firm mouth nestled in that dark, close-cropped, silky-looking beard that only added to his rugged good looks. With those hot, intense eyes, he seemed to be able to look right through her. She’d gotten close enough to see how deep brown they were, and her mouth had gone dry. Her . Harper Sinclair. As cool as a cucumber and as ruthless as she needed to be. She’d gone hot and even hotter. That alone should have been a huge warning sign that this man, and his impact on her, were beyond anything she’d experienced before.
    Was that a bad thing? Maybe. Maybe not.
    It wasn’t just his looks. She had to admit that to herself and step that much deeper into the danger zone. It was the way he interacted with her, as if her wealth didn’t intimidate him in the least. Damn, she really, really liked that. No bowing or scraping or inane compliments. He pretty much said what was on his mind, even though his view of her wasn’t exactly flattering.
    But she could work with that. She could work him over good. Her heart fluttered just thinking about getting her hands on him. It would seem that a night with Nate hadn’t satisfied her libido at all. But, in all fairness, Caleb was definitely fantasy material.
    Except Harper liked the tactile stimulation of a real man.
    Illusion was overrated.
    But…there was definitely a risk there. No man had ever gotten under her skin. She’d been much too reserved to allow that to happen. Except there was something about Caleb that made her itch and twitch