"Finding out about you is about Licks. You're his trainer, after all. How do I know you don't take in strays and make soup out of them?"
"I'd never—"
He raised a brow.
"You're kidding."
"And you're naive." He cocked his head, gave her a speculative look. "Or seem to be."
"I didn't think anyone actually said that word, only wrote it," she said. "And it isn't a word that describes me." Although sitting across from a man who had everything, had done everything, and had been everywhere doing it, she figured he was right about her, at least compared to him.
"What words do describe you?" he asked.
She looked away, then back, uncomfortable with talking about herself but also wanting to impress him in some small way. And because she wanted his agreement and trust on her new plan for Licks, she had to say something. "I'm, uh, responsible. Reliable. Hard-working and—" She faltered.
"Ambitious? Focused?"
"I think so. Yes." She looked at him, feeling cornered and ill at ease. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Depends what you're focused on." He took a couple of beats, intensified his gaze. "Or who."
Somewhere in this conversation, they'd taken different tracks. And, if there was some kind of subtext here, she wasn't getting it. "Look, Mr. Fielding—"
"Rand," he reminded her firmly.
She nodded and placed her napkin on the table. "Look, Rand, I don't know what your problem is with me—" she shrugged "—and to be honest, I don't much care. But I do care about Licks. And you don't seem to. A dog deserves love and attention." She fidgeted with, then folded her napkin. "When you first asked me what I wanted to do about him, I didn't know what to say, because it was the same question I was going to ask you. So maybe the best thing—" she hesitated "—is for me to find Licks another home."
Tessa hoped he wouldn't take her suggestion as an insult, which, given her special feeling for dogs and the people who loved them, it most definitely was.
He looked at her a long time and scratched his jaw with his index finger. "I've never owned a dog."
His comment didn't go far toward solving the Licks dilemma, but it did help her understand his attitude. "Ned should never have given you Licks," she said. "It wasn't fair to you or him." Boy, would she give Ned a piece of her mind when he came back. She reached over and patted Rand's hand. "It's okay, though. I'll find him an excellent home. I promise."
He turned his hand and grasped hers, held it until she pulled it back, disturbed by the warmth of the brief contact. When their eyes met, his grew speculative.
"No," he said, with an unmistakable finality.
"Of course, if you want to find him a home yourself..."
"I want to keep him."
Tessa frowned. "No, you don't. You walked out on him on his very first day with you, and you haven't seen him since. That won't work."
"We'll make it work."
"We?"
"You'll live at my place and train my dog."
"You're crazy. People don't do that!"
"Yes, they do, Tessa," he said quietly.
She didn't answer. She felt too dumb. Of course, people like Rand Fielding hired whomever they pleased for whatever they pleased. Why not a personal dog trainer? That old saying came to mind again: the very rich are different from you and me. Just how different was stunning. But going to live in that grand house of his? No way.
"Think about it," he went on, his voice cool and convincing. "It makes perfect sense. Right now I don't have time for a pup, but in a few months, when he's old enough—and trained well enough—no problem. I'll take him with me."
"To work? You'll take Licks to work?" She laughed at the absurdity of it.
He gave her an arrogant glare. "I'll take him anywhere I damn well choose."
"Sure you will," she said unbelievingly. "What about travel? I know from talking to Ned you do a lot of it. Licks will live half his life crated in the cargo hold of a commercial jet. Bad idea, Rand."
"Thank you."
"For what? Telling you you're crazy?"
"Using
Eleanor Coerr, Ronald Himler