Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

The next morning, the alarm clock failed and, running two hours late, Rex woke in a cranky mood. However, his mood improved considerably when he drank a mug of that fabulous coffee from CC
’
s. When he got the chance, he’d go to that shop and buy a lifetime
’
s supply.

Despite the muggy air, he took a hot shower, further improving his mood. Then, dressing in a pair of tan slacks, a blue Oxford shirt, the sleeves of which he rolled up to his elbows, and a blue-and-white striped silk tie, he went down to the practice.

At first, Rex thought he would have to go outside to get inside, but a door at the far end of the hallway, which he’d thought was to a cupboard, opened out into the reception-waiting area. For a moment, he thought he had passed through time. Unlike the house, with its ditsy, flowered wallpapered walls and nineteenth-century cowboy furnishings, the business was very twenty-first century.

Though painted clinical-white, the walls were dotted with posters advertising various treatment remedies and products. A stack of new magazines in a wide range of topics lay on a low table beneath the window, and with the selection of healthy green foliage plants, the area exhibited a calm and friendly ambiance.

Opposite the small reception desk was an open doorway. Rex wandered through. As with the reception, the rest of the practice was modern with up-to-date equipment and facilities. There were two treatment rooms, one of which doubled as an office. There was a laboratory with an attached darkroom, a full surgery, and a dispensary pharmacy. Another door led into a back room that contained a variety of animal kennels and a separate quarantine area.

An excited yap greeted him when Rex entered. The yap belonged to the only resident, a lively golden Labrador puppy, which gave his fingers a thorough licking when he approached and hunched down in front of its cage.

“
Hello, little fella,
”
he greeted, picking up a clipboard from a nearby bench.
“
What are you in here for?” He quickly scanned the printed top page of the medical records. “Ah, you
’
ve had your balls cut off. How come you
’
re so happy then, hey?
”

Placing the clipboard on the top of the cage, Rex removed the piece of folded paper threaded through the bars. He read the note.

Good morning, Dr. Latimer. My name
’
s Benji. I
’
ve been asleep all night dreaming doggie things. I won’t embarrass you by saying what, but as a man you can probably guess. Anyway, now I
’
m hungry. Please feed me.

Rex laughed. It appeared that Ramona Anderson, his new work colleague and co-owner of the practice, and who’d obviously written the note—the initials “R.A.” proof to that conclusion—possessed an impish wit.

Pun intended, but it was funny that, when he’d asked Stephens about Ramona before leaving Miami, sense of humor wasn’t even mentioned. Sure, Stephens had supplied him with details of her qualifications and such like, but as to her character, he hadn’t even touched upon it, which gave Rex the distinct impression that Stephens, despite employing Ramona and offering her a partnership, was extremely uncomfortable around women within the workplace. He, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

Rex had just put a bowl of food down for Benji when he heard movement and the sound of somebody talking in the reception-waiting area. It was a woman
’
s voice, soft yet authoritative, and despite the stifling heat, made him break out into goose bumps. Surprised and intrigued, no woman had had that effect on him before, he wandered back through.

He instantly broke out into a sweat.

Seated at the reception desk, talking on the telephone, was one hell of a stunner. Short and spiky chestnut-colored hair topped a heart-shaped face that had almost a pixie appearance, full of mirth and mischief. She wore no makeup, and really, she didn’t need to. Not only would it have marred her lovely sun-kissed complexion, but it would have disguised the faint smattering of freckles across her pert nose.

As Rex stepped closer, the woman looked up from the appointments book she was thumbing through and gave him a friendly, welcoming smile. He hoped to God his deodorant was holding out because that unpainted mouth of hers was like a plum—ripe, luscious, sweet, and just begging to be eaten.

With effort, he lifted his eyes to hers. His heart and soul dropped into his shoes. He had never seen eyes as green, or as striking. Naturally fringed by long, dark lashes, they were like emeralds, all sparkling and precious. Pure, untamed sexual energy exuded from the depthless gems, causing a distinct lack of air. And as he tripped and fell into them, he wondered if this was what drowning felt like.

Liking himself to be a Southern gentleman, he wouldn’t say the term to a woman’s face, but Rex quickly decided a suitable description for this green-eyed stunner was “sex kitten.” A playful, yet serious sex kitten, particularly if the way she was dealing with whoever it was on the other end of the line was anything to go by.

Hard
being the operative word, Rex suddenly had a hard need to spread this receptionist across the desk and book an appointment with her. However, the need waned the second he took in her clothing. The black shapeless T-shirt with “Wild and Free” emblazoned in gold lettering across the front, gray three-quarter-length jog pants, and the pair of well-worn Nikes were not only unsuitable, but so not sexy.

Still, she has nice ankles, he decided as he watched her swinging her legs back and forth. Suddenly, the image of the wife and brood of kids popped into his head. Only this time, the wife had a face. And he was staring right at her.

It’s the heat, Rex firmly told himself as he returned his attention back to her telephone conversation. The person on the other end, a Mr. Watson, sounded a difficult client. However, the sex kitten in her authoritative voice soon sorted him out, and, with a flourish, she replaced the receiver.

“
Bud Watson,
”
she informed him, just in case he hadn
’
t been listening.
“
A monumental pain in the ass. And an ass that needs a fucking good kicking. Preferably all the way to Helena.
”

Rex raised an eyebrow at the receptionist’s crass language, but allowed it to drop. He wasn’t averse with using the F-word himself. Neither was the client present, so no real harm done.
“
You
’
ve got great people skills,” he told her. “The way you handled Mr. Watson was excellent. I would prefer, however, for you to come to work dressed in something a little more suitable. Surely there’s a standard dress code in force?
”

“
Pardon me?
”

He gestured to her T-shirt.
“Don’t get me wrong, I can take a joke and I’m as broad-minded as they come, but
you are the first person to greet existing and prospective new clients. So
‘
Wild and Free
’
isn’t exactly appropriate. Nor is it what I expect for a weekday-nine-to-five, or whatever hours you work, receptionist of this practice to advertise.”

The sex kitten-come-receptionist rose to her full height. At six five, Rex was used to being taller than most people, but he wasn’t just taller than her—he
towered
over her. Even so, at five feet three inches, the sex kitten not only had sass, but was beginning to display a full set of nasty-looking claws. Why all of a sudden did Rex feel like he was about to be awarded a prize for being the world
’
s biggest dickhead?

Perhaps an introduction would be a good idea. He held out a hand and smiled his best “charmed” smile.
“Dr.
Rex Latimer, the new vet. Dr. Stephens hired me to take his place. And you are…
” He quickly glanced at her left hand. No rings adorned her third finger. He ignored the extremely happy and not so gentle thump-thump of his heart. “Miss…?”

“
Doctor
Ramona Anderson,
”
she spat out, lengthening the title so he got the point.
“V
et and co-owner of this practice. Certainly not receptionist. For your information,
Doctor
Latimer”—again, she lengthened the title—“Mimi Parish fills that position. The only reason why she’s not here is because she’s on a two-week vacation.
”

Ah.
Rex stepped up and collected his “World
’
s Biggest Dickhead” trophy. His outstretched hand continued to be ignored, so he shoved it into his slacks pocket.
“My apologies.
I just thought with you being at the desk
…” He smiled.
“An easy mistake to make.
”

She raised one slim eyebrow, that gorgeous plum of a mouth taking a downward turn, clearly not amused with either his apology or his explanation.
“
Really?
”

“
Yes, really.”

“If you say so.” Her departing smile did better at cooling the air than the small air conditioning unit situated in one corner.

Still feeling a dickhead, Rex shook his head and blew out a long breath. That wasn
’
t exactly the best start in meeting his work colleague and possible future business partner. He sat in the chair vacated by Ramona and checked the appointments for the day. The afternoon was fully booked, but there was only one entry for the morning. A cat named Mudge was booked in to be neutered at 9:30 a.m.

“Gee,” he drawled to the waist-length white jacket hanging on the coat stand by the front door, “what is it about dicks and the sex ki—” The sound of running water from upstairs stopped him. It then dawned on him which door Ramona had left by—the door to the house. His house. He bristled. She was taking a shower in his goddamn bathroom!

Dashing through to the house and up the stairs, Rex was just about to thump his fist on the bathroom door when it opened and Ramona, accompanied by a steamy mist, emerged. An ample offering of pink-tinged flesh and a blue towel hugged a curvaceous body that made his mouth water.

Immediately his anger dissolved and another kind of heat spread through his body. The type of heat that made him want to unwrap the towel from her body and
generate some steam of his own.

“
Since you
’
ve taken the master bedroom, I
’
ve moved into the one next door.
”

He drew up short, a sudden uneasiness washing over him.
“
Moved in?
” he croaked, his mouth now as dry as sandpaper. “When?”

“Earlier this morning when you were in the shower. Didn’t you hear me?”

No, Rex hadn’t. But then again, he wouldn’t have heard a tornado over the water gushing through the creaky pipes.

“
Since I own half the business, I also own half the house. Didn’t Greg tell you?”

No, Stephens hadn’t. But then while Rex knew that Stephens had told him the house was his when he’d given him the keys, he could understand Ramona’s logic. The practice and the house were joined, so it was only reasonable she would think she owned half of each. And really, he wasn’t going to argue the point. He’d had his fill of lawyers to last him for the next five years.

“Besides,” she continued, “I thought you
’
d be lonely. I mean, six bedrooms is a lot for just one person.
”

He opened his mouth to protest then, but pressed it shut again. He had to agree with her. Hadn
’
t he, just the night before, thought the same thing? What he didn
’
t agree with was the bit about being lonely. Since his divorce, he liked living by himself. Admittedly, he was no cook, only knowing the basics, but wasn’t that what restaurants and takeouts were for? But more importantly, there was nobody—no woman—to moan at him, to shout and scream at him, to remind him of what a conniving and “damaged”
bastard
he was for wanting a family. He could do what he liked, when he liked. Hell, he could even leave the toilet seat up without being nagged about it.

A droplet of water sliding down Ramona
’
s neck caught Rex’s attention and cured his dry mouth. He followed that droplet as it traveled over the rather delicate collarbone and down to the top edge of the towel. Beneath, the plump breasts appeared just the right size for his hands.

His gaze dropped lower. Her shapely calves made those nice ankles even more appealing. He
’
d never had a fetish for feet before, but he suddenly wanted to kiss and suck on her toes, the nails of which were painted vivid blue.

“
My little piggies are ticklish, so don
’
t even think about it.
”

His eyes jerked back to her face and became riveted on her mouth. She was smiling at him. It was the kind of smile that reminded him that living with a woman also had its good points, like the shared intimacy of two toothbrushes side by side, the little chats over morning coffee, and the cuddling up on the sofa watching television in the evenings. The lovemaking…