Love Gone to the Dogs Read Online Free PDF Page A

Leah's. Shane's movements were a study in agility and coordination, with not one wasted motion. Dressed in black slacks and a white polo shirt, he looked at ease, yet Leah sensed alertness underneath his facade ready to spring forth if the need arose. She could picture him in an emergency room, handling case after case with expert authority and no hesitation. He commanded people's attention when he was in a room. She began to wonder if the only thing that rattled his bones was a dog named Arnold, who liked to eat newspapers for breakfast.
    "Leah and I already met this morning," Shane said to his mother and Leah's grandfather as Shane released her hand.
    "You didn't tell me that, girl."
    "The subject didn't come up. I didn't realize that Dr. O'Grady was going to be here tonight." She imagined the feel of his fingers against hers as if they were still wrapped about her hand. The imagery caused her to feel warm all over.
    "Shane, please," he said, a sparkle in his dark eyes that spoke of a secret between them.
    "That's my fault. I forgot when I asked you and Harold to dinner that tonight is my son's regular night to eat with me." Margaret looked at everyone. There wasn't an ounce of meekness in her expression or regret at her "mistake" in her voice.
    This woman knew exactly what she did every hour of the day, Leah thought, but couldn't be upset with Margaret. There was a warmth to her that drew a person immediately. Too bad her son didn't take after his mother. Then Leah remembered earlier that day at the clinic. He had been different, civil, polite as if the confrontation over Arnold had never taken place.
    Shane waved his hand toward the couch where he was sitting. "Have a seat, Leah."
    She caught sight of a gold wedding band on his finger and tensed. He was married. Why had she assumed he was single? Why was she experiencing disappointment at the fact he was unattainable? She certainly had no intention of dating anyone. Where was his wife?
    "Would anyone like some ice tea, or something else to drink?" Margaret asked, heading to a bar set in the corner.
    "I'll take a swallow of whiskey on the rocks," her grandfather answered, following her to help her with the drinks. "After the day I've had, I believe I need it"
    "Ice tea for me." Leah eased into the chair across from Shane before everyone else took a seat and left her to sit on the couch beside him. She tried not to look toward him or stare at his wedding band, but she felt his gaze on her and it made her feel dizzy, as though she had whirled around and around, then suddenly stopped.
    While her grandfather and Margaret were fixing the drinks, Leah searched her mind for something to say to break the subtle tension between her and Shane. "Will your wife be joining us tonight?"
    He frowned, his brows knitted together. "My wife died three years ago."
    The heat of embarrassment blazed in her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I just thought—" She stared at his left hand, any words she was going to say stuck in her throat
    He glanced down at his wedding ring, rubbing his finger across the smooth surface. "Oh, I see."
    Margaret chose that moment to hand Leah her glass. She immediately took several long sips of her tea. Her throat felt parched and her nerves rubbed raw, and the evening had only just begun. Contradictory emotions swirled inside her. He was no longer unattainable, or was he? He was still wearing his wedding ring after three years.
    "I'm glad to see my son welcomed you to the neighborhood."
    Leah nearly choked on her tea and ended up coughing, which caused her grandfather to pound on her back. When she found her voice, she said, "I'm not sure welcomed is the right word."
    "Oh?" Margaret's eyebrows rose.
    "Let's just say her dog and I aren't on friendly terms." Shane leaned back, a frown still furrowing his forehead.
    "What has Arnold done now?"
    "Nothing, Gramps." Leah saw the look in her grandfather's eyes and hastily added, "What I mean to say is, Arnold is exploring his