Sheltering His Desire Read Online Free PDF

policy.
And now I see this on the commercials? How could that possibly be
anything but bad?”
    He forced a calm he didn’t feel past his own
concerns. “We’ll watch; you’ll deal. Life will go on.”
    She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and mouth
flat. “That’s not as placating as you may think.”

    *

    Alyssia wasn’t going to snap at Tate. She had
too many other things going on to deal with his brand of calm. He
was trying to help, which was why she was biting her tongue, but
sometimes he tried a little too hard. The streaming news shifted
scenes, and her gut clenched. She crossed her arms. She was vaguely
aware of Tate moving behind her, but her attention was focused on
the news clip.
    The lead-in to the story was almost the same
as what she’d been hearing teased on commercials since she woke up.
And then her world crumbled a little, and an insistent throb
twitched behind her eye. The reporter was talking to Bryce Thompson
Jr., his parents sitting next to him on the couch in a living room
larger than her entire townhouse.
    He frowned and sniffled as he explained how
his dog had been struck in a hit and run. A growl slipped from her
throat. The dog’s injuries didn’t coincide with that. He went on to
say he hadn’t known what to do. His parents were gone for the
evening, but he was lucky a member of the staff was around. She
took the dog in for treatment at an all-night animal hospital.
    Alyssia’s blood boiled hotter the longer she
watched. The newsman talking about “and that’s when the nightmare
began.” The camera and reporter trying to get into her clinic. The
footage—only about three seconds compared to the truth on her own
security cameras—made it look like Ricco had literally kicked them
out on their asses the moment they’d walked in. “The shelter took
his dog, and refuses to return the animal to its family. They
declined our requests for comments. But as of now, they’ve
kidnapped this poor child’s best friend, and locked it away, cold
and scared in some back room kennel.”
    She sank back in her chair, acid churning in
her gut. A quiet, “Fuck,” slipped past her lips and frustration
stung her eyelids. God damn it. What was she going to do?
    She slowly became aware of Tate’s hand
resting on the back of her neck, his thumb kneading at the tight
cord running from her shoulder to her skull. His quiet tone seeped
into her thoughts. “Press release. Letter to the station. Contact
Legal about slander.”
    His methodical list took the edge off her
mounting fear and frustration, but didn’t erase it. She nodded. “I
should get on that.” How could he sound so sure and calm right now?
Everything inside her was screaming at her to do something. That
this was bad. That the local news had just told the entire
community that her shelter was essentially kidnapping dogs.
    Nausea bubbled up again, and she swallowed it
back. It didn’t help. “I’ll call the lawyer. And have Sara start on
the press release. Someone needs to contact the station now. I
should do that first. Can I counter before the ten o’clock news? We
have security footage, we can show them that’s not how this
happened. This isn’t right, we can’t—”
    “Stop.” His voice was still low, but the
single word stamped out her rambling. “Do the first two. Don’t fly
off in a frenzy and try and fight this war publicly. This is
Thompson’s TV station. Going into things half-cocked won’t
help.”
    “But he’s verbally destroying the shelter.”
She wanted to scream. Was Tate trying to make this difficult? “He
just told the entire town I’m a fucking puppy kidnapper. I have to
tell them otherwise.”
    “Lys.” Tate’s gentle tone was still there but
an edge lined the single syllable. “You should and you will, but
not without a plan. Don’t rush into this unprepared, okay?”
    She ground her teeth at the condescension,
but didn’t have the words to argue. “Fine.”
    Her speaker phone buzzed, and