The Fourteen Million Dollar Poodle Read online

  He appeared stunned at the idea. Speechlessly so.

  She smiled at him. "But it's only logical. Your dog speaks French. You will have to learn."

  His tough-guy eyes narrowed. They were an attractive mix of green and gray and blue, she'd noted. There was a name for that, which she could never remember.

  "Why can't Mimi learn English?"

  "She's a dog. How many multilingual dogs do you know?"

  "A dog needs a master," he said a mite huffily. "I am Mimi's master."

  "Not if she doesn't understand a word you say."

  "Here's the leash." He pulled out a length of chain with a clip on one end and a black leather strap on the other that looked as though it had been manufactured for prison guard dogs. "And her collar. I'm having trouble getting her into it. Maybe you can explain in her own damn language that she has to put it on before she can go out."

  He handed her a black leather collar appropriate for a very large, very fierce Rottweiler. Or an over-the-top S & M party.

  Mimi took one look at the contraption and minced away with her nose in the air.

  "But what happened to her beautiful sparkly collar?"

  "She can't wear that around here. She'll get mugged."

  "Mugged? But they're only crystals . . ."

  She stopped when he shook his head. "Cartier. It's a custom job. There are twenty carats of flawless diamonds in that collar."

  "Well. Well, she can't wear this."

  Seeing he was about to argue, she said, "Never mind. Mimi and I will sort it all out, n'est pas mignonne?"

  Mimi's pom-pom tail wagged, and her head came up.

  Sophie patted Vince's shoulder reassuringly and felt strong muscle that made her want to purr. For a second she envied Mimi being able to curl up beside him in that big bed.

  He stared down at her for a long moment, and his shoulder seemed to warm beneath her palm. She felt that insistent and inconvenient quiver of arousal again deep in her belly.

  "I have to go," he said suddenly, when the moment had moved beyond comfortable. "I've got a meeting."

  "Have a good day." She smiled and took her hand back, resisting the urge to shake the heat from it.

  "Thanks. You've got my numbers?"

  "Yes. Don't worry."

  As soon as Vince was gone, she lapsed into French, thinking Mimi must miss hearing her own language. First, she read through all the recipes, found a veal one that she could easily adapt for Vince's dinner. As he'd warned her, his kitchen was woefully ill-equipped.

  She scrawled a list of essentials, helped herself to some cash from the envelope, and then picked up the leather-and-chain monstrosity. She managed to coax her reluctant charge into it, but the weight of the collar bowed Mimi's little fluffy head, and the chain dragged on the ground.

  "Bah," she said in frustration. "My poor bebe, it's not for you."

  She replaced the original diamond collar on a much happier Mimi. She'd have to hope everyone made the same assumption she had that the stones were rhinestones, because neither she nor Mimi were going to

  be seen with that black leather and chain.

  With Mimi happily prancing beside her with her own diamond-studded collar and leash, they left the apartment.

  It was a gorgeous fall day, and she was being paid a great deal of money to spend time with the nicest charge she'd ever had.

  Life was sweet.

  While they stopped every few steps for Mimi to mark her trail, Sophie wondered what vegetables Vince liked, which was appropriate since she'd cook his dinners for him, and she wondered if any female but Mimi was sharing his bed with him, which was inappropriate, but truthfully occupied her mind a lot more enthusiastically than the man's vegetable preferences.

  Which was probably why she didn't pay her usual attention to what was going on around her.

  She'd followed Vince's directions to a small local park, which appeared empty. She heard a pounding of feet on the gravel path, which she dimly supposed was an enthusiastic jogger, until she was shoved from behind and a gloved hand grabbed at the sparkling leash. She screamed in a combination of surprise, fear, and shock, instinctively tightening her hold on Mimi's lead as she fell painfully to her knees on the gravel path.

  Furious at herself for being taken unawares, she grabbed her purse and swung up and back. She heard the impact of her bag against a solid object, followed by a grunt of pain. Mimi was snarling and yapping, nipping at the black-gloved hand that was pulling at the leash.

  She was getting ready to sink her own teeth into the hand that was trying to haul the leash from her so hard she was getting a burn on her palm.

  She cursed in French, knowing she and Mimi couldn't hold on much longer, as she used her free hand to dig in her bag for her mace.

  She found it, yanked the cap off with her teeth even as she wondered if her wrist would be permanently damaged from the strain of the pulled leash. She squirted a stream of mace over her shoulder and heard

  a violent curse as suddenly the pressure eased on the leash.

  She turned, ready to use her fingernails on the guy's face, when she heard a low, fierce growl. Stunned, she turned to stare at Mimi, but the poodle looked as surprised as she.

  She turned her head in time to see a big black shadow launch itself at a tall man in a low-pulled woolen cap who was furiously wiping his streaming eyes.

  This time the howl of surprise and pain came from the attacker. She sensed rather than saw the dog bite and shake— looking like a vengeful black demon—his growls as ferocious as his teeth. She pulled Mimi to her, feeling she'd stumbled into a nightmare, and suddenly she was free.

  Their attacker was running toward a beat-up looking sports car, a hand covering his face, the other holding his butt.

  "Bastard bit me in the ass," he yelled. The big black dog in question raced behind the man, growling and snapping. She saw the passenger door open even as the engine gunned. The miscreant threw himself into the car, but the black dog got one more piece of him, coming away with a patch of denim, the back pocket still attached.

  She watched, bemused, as the car tore away. She squinted at the license plate, but it was so grimed with dirt it was unreadable. Deliberately, no doubt.

  Now that the car was gone, Mimi was doing her best to imitate the big black dog. Barking and pulling at the leash, growling as ferociously as a toy poodle can.

  The black dog, she now saw it was a Doberman, raced back to her side. She flinched involuntarily as

  the powerful jaws ground at the denim and wrestled it back and forth almost as though he suspected the owner might still be in the pants.

  Then, suddenly, he dropped the mashed fabric at her feet, wagged his tail, and let his tongue hang out,

  a dog well pleased with himself.

  "Good dog," she said carefully, still hanging on to her mace, wondering if the ferocious Doberman was ready for some new prey.

  But at the words, good dog, he wagged his tail harder and gazed at her adoringly.

  Suddenly she laughed, almost light-headed with relief. Sophie pulled Mimi up into one arm and put her other around the Doberman's neck. She had the dubious pleasure of having her neck licked by one small dainty tongue, and half her face slobbered on by the size-large, heavy-on-the-saliva version. "Good dogs. Good, good dogs," she said, hugging them closer.

  Four

  Realizing she couldn't sit on the ground all day cuddling dogs, she rose to her feet and ignored the impulse to bolt back to Vince's apartment and lock herself and Mimi inside.

  She'd failed on her first day. Vince had told her not to take Mimi out decked in diamonds, and she'd disobeyed his orders.

  But she was Mimi's nanny, and Mimi still needed a new collar, a new leash, and some food. That's what she was going to get, and no park mugger was going to stop her. She picked up the tooth-marked piece of denim and looked in the pocket, but it was empty, leaving no clue to the owner. Still, the patch of cloth itself was a clue of sorts, so she folded it and stuffe
d it into her bag along with her recapped mace.

  She was a lot less carefree as she made her way through the rest of the park, but no violent criminals approached, no one but a few dog walkers like herself and a couple of mothers chattering away, pushing strollers containing infants.

  The big dog never left her side, and after suggesting a couple of times that he go home, she gave up and was grateful for his company. He'd proven himself her and Mimi's champion, and she decided, when she was at the butcher, that he deserved a treat.

  Mimi pretended—or perhaps felt—no interest in the package from the butcher, but the Doberman drooled and licked his chops as they traced their way back through the park. She came upon the spot where they'd met him, and she handed him the big meaty bone with a pat on the head and her thanks. He took the bone in a surprisingly delicate manner that charmed her and dropped down on his oversized paws to gnaw at it. But as soon as she and Mimi resumed their journey, he picked up his bone and followed.

  Sophie bit her lip. What to do? He wore no collar, and no one seemed to be looking for him.

  "You have to go home now, Sir Galahad," she said, as firmly as she could. He wagged his tail and kept following her.

  Mimi was no help; she could swear the little scamp was flirting with their big, dark protector.

  When they reached Vince's apartment, the dog seemed disappointed but not surprised not to be invited in. He settled on a small patch of grass beside the entrance and resumed devouring his bone.

  * * *

  "Hiya, buddy," Vince said when he arrived home from work to find a black Doberman wagging its stub

  of a tail at him. A bleached-looking bone lay at his feet. "Now this is what a real dog looks like," he said as he rubbed its head, wondering vaguely where the owner was.

  Once Vince reached the door to his apartment he hesitated for a second, then knocked before putting his key into the lock on his own door. It seemed appropriate to knock when there was a woman inside—a woman he was neither related to nor sleeping with.

  He opened the door and was immediately struck by mouth-watering smells of dinner cooking, by the hysterical yappy delight of Mimi, and by the fact that his nanny had a rip in her jeans, a bandage on her knee, and she seemed to be limping.

  Bending to give Mimi an absent pat, he never took his gaze off Sophie. "What happened?"

  She glanced at him and away again, and in that instant their gazes connected she looked guilty as hell. "I'm so sorry," she said, stirring something on the stove, which put her back to him. "I did a very stupid thing."

  His fourteen million dollar toy poodle was safe, so he figured he could handle her stupidity, but he wasn't happy that she'd ended up limping on her first day working for him. "What happened?" he asked a second time, more mildly.

  When she didn't answer right away, he walked up behind her in the small kitchen and touched her shoulder. "This might be easier if we sat down and discussed it face-to-face. Unless Mimi's missing or you're quitting, it can't be that bad."

  She smiled absently and sat at the pine table she'd already set for one.

  "You didn't have to cook for me," he said, trying not to think about how pathetic the table looked with one place mat, one fork, one knife. She'd even folded a napkin and laid it beside the fork. He usually ate in front of the TV if he was eating at home alone, which he didn't do very often. Pre-Mimi that was. He now realized he was going to have to change his ways or get some extra dog-sitting help.

  "Cooking for the family is part of my job. I enjoy it," she said, then drew a deep breath. "I took Mimi out with her expensive collar on today," she said quickly. "She wouldn't wear the other, and I thought I'd take her straight to the pet shop and get her a new one that she liked."

  "And?"

  "We were mugged."

  "What?" The hell with the dog, he couldn't believe some thug had messed with Sophie. "I can't... How did it happen? When?" He shoved a hand through his hair. "Where?"

  "In the park, the one you gave me directions to. A man knocked me down and grabbed for the leash. I-I should have known better. You told me not to use the good collar and leash. I'm very sorry."

  "So he took the diamond dog stuff and left it at that?" Relief was hammering through his veins. New

  York was a lot safer than it had once been, but there was still too much violence. He hated to think of what could have happened.

  "No," she said with a small smile. "He didn't get anything. Mimi was very brave and bit his hand."

  At the sound of her name, Mimi danced over to lick Sophie's fingers.

  "That gave me a chance to get to the mace in my purse. But we still would have been in trouble without our rescuer."

  "Thank God. Who was it? Another dog walker? A cop?"

  She shook her head. "Another dog. A big black Doberman. He was so very fierce and bit the mugger

  and chased him away until the man jumped in a car and sped away."

  His relief that his nanny and his dog were safe was such that he didn't care if the would-be thieves had flown away on magic carpets. They were gone, and no one was badly hurt. At least he hoped not.

  "How bad's the knee?"

  "Not bad. I cleaned it and put some of your antiseptic on it, and a bandage."

  "Good."

  "So, if you don't trust me anymore with Mimi, I will understand."

  "Sophie, I'm going to take you myself to get a new collar and lead. I'm the one who should apologize."

  "We already got one." She looked down at Mimi. "Allez, va montrer ton nouveau collier a ton maitre."

  Mimi pranced to the corner, and Sophie followed, pulling out a slim red leather lead and matching collar. "At least there are no rhinestones," he said, trying to look on the bright side.

  She laughed softly. "Mimi really preferred the pink. I had to put my foot down."

  He laughed back at her, watching her with the lead that appeared so elegant in her hand. Her gaze rose to his, and a sizzle went through him that should have scorched the floor.

  She turned and made a production of putting the lead away. "Well, Mimi's fed. Your dinner is ready whenever you are. The salad is in the fridge. I'll see you tomorrow if you're not firing me."

  "Stay and eat with me," he said. He didn't want her to leave, not after he'd spent so much of the day thinking of her here, looking forward to seeing her at the end of his workday.

  "Oh, but..."

  "I've got some wine in the fridge. It's crazy for me to eat here alone and you to go home and eat alone ... that is, if you live alone," he said, mentally crossing his fingers that her answer would be affirmative.

  She put her head to one side. "I do."

  "Well, then."

  "Well, then." But she didn't move.

  "I'm thinking of Mimi," he said, grasping at straws, anything to make her stay.

  "Mimi?" Those wonderful, plump, cherry-colored lips curved in a smile.

  "Yes. While we eat, you can teach me French so I'll be able to communicate with my dog."

  "Bien sur."

  "I'm hoping that means 'yes-' "

  "It means 'very well.' Now you say it." She removed the tea towel she'd worn around her hips like a very sexy chef and walked toward him, so he did his best to repeat the phrase, which made Mimi bark and Sophie laugh.

  Oh, well. It was a start.

  He retrieved wine from the fridge and a couple of glasses, and she dished up. "Mmm. That smells incredible. What is it?"

  "Escalopes de Veau Chasseur." She grinned impishly. "I made a version for Mimi from her special book. This is the human equivalent."

  He glanced up. "You're feeding me dog food?" It wasn't Audrey Hepburn she reminded him of, he realized. It was Juliette Binoche, the actress he'd seen in Chocolat. Sophie had the same mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a sexy way with her in the kitchen . . . although Juliette hadn't fed Johnny Depp any dog food.

  "Don't worry, Mimi's menu would rival Maxim's in Paris."

  Five

  "So,
tell me about yourself," he said, once he'd determined that her food tasted as good as it smelled, which he did by cleaning his plate in about two minutes.

  "Would you like some more?" she asked in a bemused tone, looking at his naked plate.

  "Oh, yeah," he said. "Sorry, there's a lot of me to fill."

  She had to admit he was right. Tall and solid, he was a man who begged to be fed. Perfect for a woman who loved to cook.

  Once she'd given him another helping, and watched him deliberately try to slow the pace of his eating, he asked again, "You were going to tell me about yourself."