A Mutt in Disguise

Evernight
Publishing ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2015 Doris O’Connor

 
ISBN: 978-1-77233-494-4

Cover Artist: Jay
Aheer

Editor:
Karyn
White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
 
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All
names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To my
Gran, who always made Christmas
special.

A MUTT IN
DISGUISE

Doris O’Connor

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Holidays are
coming, holidays are coming...

Anja
turned the
annoying jingle off with a flick of her finger and blew a strand of hair off
her face. She'd tied it up and out of the way, but as usual it had a mind of
its own and had escaped her attempt at an elegant chignon. Holidays indeed! It
was Christmas, for flip's sake—time for carols and the season of goodwill—not
political correctness gone mad. What did her dad always say? Without Christ in
Christmas it would be just M&S. The store made great knickers and excellent
food, but had little to do with the season of goodwill.

She licked the
icing off her fingers and perused the small army of homemade cupcakes with a
satisfied smile. Decked out in festive colors of red and green, they would
bring much-needed cheer to the homeless shelter, and, she hoped, an influx of
cash, too. The cake sale was always popular. Declan wouldn't be pleased at the
detour, but they had to more or less drive past it on the way to his parents',
so he couldn't object too much.

It was Christmas
in a week's time, and
Anja
was determined to make a
difference this year. She had even prepared a Christmas cake for Declan's
parents, knowing full well that Lord and Lady
Hemington
would turn their aristocratic noses up at it, but
Anja
was done trying to please them. In fact, unless Declan stopped acting like a
complete ass, he could kiss her pert behind on the way out.

Right on cue the
doorbell rang, and
Anja
suppressed a sigh at the
impatient staccato of it. She took off the apron, smoothed down her simple
black shift dress, stepped into her equally understated three-inch black court
shoes, and buzzed the door open. No sooner had she completed boxing up the
cakes than Declan stepped through the front door of her flat.

"There you
are, but what on earth are you doing?" His cultured tones held a hint of
impatience, and when his steely-gray gaze connected with hers, his brows drew
together and his eyes darkened in temper. Before he could say anything else,
she shoved the largest of the boxes containing the Christmas cake into his
hands.

"I'd have
thought that was obvious, Declan." She ignored his pout and put the
remaining boxes into two large cloth bags. "I know what you said, but I
like baking, and I like giving personal gifts."

Declan grunted,
and continued to eye the box she'd given him, as though it were likely to
detonate any minute. "My parents do not expect personal gifts. The hamper
we bought them from Harrods will suffice. And who on earth are those for?"
He gestured to the two bags in her hand. "And you've got icing all over
your nose. I suggest you wash it off."

Anja
glanced at her
reflection in the hallway mirror, and, sure enough, a smudge of bright green
icing was smeared across her nose and halfway up her cheek. She took the
starched, monogrammed handkerchief Declan passed her and wiped the offending
mixture away with a barely suppressed sigh. Had they really come to this? A
year into their relationship and with Declan pushing her into setting a date
for their marriage soon, all the passion seemed to have evaporated like mist in
the sun.
 
Instead of kissing her and
licking the icing off her nose, as she would have liked him to have done, every
line of his body screamed his annoyance at her
unreasonable
behavior.

"There,
better, my lord?" She couldn't help but goad him a little, but he'd
already turned his back on her and was striding out the door. She stuck her
tongue out at his retreating back, and followed him down the steep stairs and
out into the frigid air.

 
He tossed the cake
box carelessly into the back of his Jaguar and by the time she'd carefully
stashed her bags on the back seats, his fingers were drumming against the
steering wheel. "Are you going to tell me what all those are for, or do I
have to guess?"

"You know who
they're for. I told you last night."

He revved the
engine and put his foot down the minute she fastened the seatbelt.

"You cannot
be serious. We're hardly dressed for a visit to that part of town, and we'll be
late."

He glanced at her,
and she was once again struck how insanely good-looking he was. When she had
run into him at one of the charity functions her late grandmother had her
attend in an effort to get her mixing with "the right people," she
had been bored out of her mind. Declan had swept her off her feet with his
debonair charm and craggy good looks, his fair complexion such an intriguing
contrast to the dark tuxedo that had accentuated his gym-honed physique. He
made her laugh, and her maternal grandmother had given them her unreserved seal
of approval. She'd been delighted at
Anja's
having
snared a lord of the realm. Personally,
Anja
couldn't
have cared less about his status. She was with him because she liked him, not
out of some misguided sense of duty. Her mother and father had married for
love. While Grandma had never forgiven her daughter for marrying a mere bus
driver,
Anja's
parents' marriage had survived the
test of time.
Anja
wanted that long-lasting passion
and deep love her parents shared, and she wasn't prepared to settle for
anything less. She'd thought she'd found that with Declan.
 
He had proven a rock when Gran had passed on,
but since the reading of her grandmother's will, things had changed between
them.

Much to everyone's
surprise, Gran had left a small fortune in trust for
Anja
.
She would come into possession of that fortune on her twenty-fifth birthday,
which was this New Year's Eve. It seemed no sooner had Declan found out about
the trust fund, he was making plans to spend it. He had proposed the very next
day, and
Anja
had shocked everyone by refusing him.
As far as she was concerned it was far too soon to be thinking about marriage,
and lately, she'd had more than second thoughts about her future with Declan.
They wanted completely opposite things.

She had no
intention of accepting that trust money for herself, and Declan and she had the
first of many bitter rows about her intention to find a worthwhile cause to
settle it on.
Anja
had done her research, and the
plight of the homeless had always been dear to her heart. She now had the means
to do more than just volunteer, and that's exactly what she was going to do,
Declan be damned.

"We have to
drive past the shelter anyway, and I promised Mary that I would drop these
around so she'd have them ready for the cake sale tomorrow. It's their open
day, and they're in dire need of benefactors to keep the shelter open. It's the
least I can do, and it will only take a minute."

She glanced at him
again, hoping against hope that he would see it her way, but he shook his head
and clucked his tongue. "I told you, I don't want you anywhere near those
winos. You could catch all sorts for fuck's sake, and for what?"

"They're not
all winos, as you'd know if you spent more than five minutes in their company.
They're just people down on their luck, and they need somewhere to stay,
and—"

"Yes, yes, I
know. Spare me the Mother Teresa act,
Anja
." He
interrupted her with a dismissive shake of his hand. "As if it isn't
enough, you have this crazy plan to give them your money. Money that would be
better spent—" He mumbled something under his breath, and glared at her.

"Better spent
doing what, Declan? Propping up your family's coffers? Is that what you were
going to say?" Her voice rose in annoyance, and she balled her hands into
fists.

"Yes, quite
frankly, it would be. And why is it so wrong of me to expect my future wife to
want to help out my family?" He stopped at a red traffic light, put a hand
on her thigh, and squeezed. He leaned across, and his hot breath whispered
across her neck as he dropped a kiss on the rapidly beating pulse point there.
His expensive cologne tickled her senses, and
Anja
shut her eyes in a vain effort to rekindle some form of attraction. Instead,
bile rose in her throat, and she inched away from him.

He cupped her face
and forced her to look at him, his eyes glittering in barely suppressed fury.
She put her hand over his mouth when he would have kissed her.

"I haven't
yet agreed to marry you, Declan."

His eyes narrowed
at her curt statement.

"Oh, but you
will, my sweet. It's what your Gran would have wanted."

Her heart bumped
against her chest bone with a painful thud, and she shook her head. The light
changed, and he put the car into gear with a muttered curse. "Fine, have
it your way. We'll go and drop off the fucking cakes, if it means that much to
you."

They drove the
rest of the way in tense silence, and
Anja
breathed a
sigh of relief when they pulled up outside the shelter. To her surprise, Declan
got out of the car and helped her with the boxes. His nose wrinkled in
distaste, but he followed her inside the rundown building.

They attracted
some curious glances from the regulars, and a beaming smile from Mary, who
rushed towards them from the kitchen.

"Oh
Anja
, I thought you couldn't make it tonight. Is this your
young man?" The silver-haired, rotund little lady offered her hand to
Declan with another beaming smile. "I've heard so much about you. It's
such a pleasure to finally meet you."

Declan ignored
Mary's outstretched hand and took a step back. He thrust the
confectionary-laden bag at her instead, and wrinkled his nose again. Mary's
smile slipped a little. She took the bag from him and threw a concerned glance
towards
Anja
.
Anja
had to
force herself to keep her smile in place. Did he have to be so rude? Before she
could say anything, a familiar cold, wet nose bumped into her knee cap, seconds
before a menacing growl erupted behind her.

Declan grew pale
under his tan, and his eyes widened. As shocked as
Anja
was at that growl, she couldn't help but smile as all the superiority left
Declan's tall frame. Hands held up in surrender, he took several steps back.

"What the
fuck is that?"

"Oh, that's
just Mutt. He hangs around the shelter from time to time. He's harmless,
really." Mary's warm voice was meant to soothe, but her expression had the
opposite effect as she, too, looked at the wolf-like dog as though she'd never
seen him before.

Sure enough, the
Tamaskan
dog didn't look harmless at the moment. His
hackles raised, he crouched low, baring his teeth, and
Anja
could feel the vibrations of his growls through the soles of her feet. Her
heart missed a few beats as his intelligent amber eyes connected with hers, and
he cocked his head to one side. She put her hand out to calm the animal down,
ignoring Declan's sharp intake of breath. Mutt stopped growling long enough to
lick her hand, and bumped his big head against her leg playfully, before he sat
down next to her and fixed his expressive eyes on Declan.

"See, he is
harmless. Not sure what got into him, really."

She had grown fond
of the big wolf-like animal over the last few weeks. He'd shown up one night
out of the blue, his beautiful gray-black coat matted and dirty, his leg
sporting a limp, and when Mary would have shooed him away,
Anja
had convinced her to let him stay in the warmth. Since then Mutt, as
Anja
had affectionately called him, showed up sporadically,
usually dragging another down-and-out with him to the shelter. He was a law
onto himself, but until now he'd never shown the slightest hint of aggression.

"That thing
is no doubt riddled with fleas, and he's not wearing a collar. And from the way
he's growling at me, he is far from harmless. Things like him need to be put
down, before he attacks a child or something."

"Don't be
absurd. He would never attack anyone."
Anja
defended Mutt immediately, even as his renewed menacing growls called her a
liar. What had gotten into him?

"He wouldn’t,
would he? Then why is that thing growling and baring his teeth at me?" He
took a step toward
Anja
, and Mutt crouched again, to
all intents and purposes ready to attack Declan, who had the good sense to step
back again.

"Okay, that's
it. I've had enough of this. We need to go if we're to stand any chance of
making it to my parent's soiree on time, or even fashionably late." He
sniffed audibly and rolled his eyes. "And you can't go like that. You're
covered in that mutt's filthy hair, and you know my mother is allergic to
animal hair. Anyone would think you did this on purpose."