Rich Bitch: Everything's Going to the Dogs (3 page)

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. 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, but 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 or part Doberman anyway, 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.

As relief set in, she laughed, almost light-headed with joy. 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.

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

But until the big man fired her, 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 stuffed 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 over-sized paws to gnaw at the meat. However, 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 building, 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.” What had he been thinking? “I should have got a new collar and a leash she could wear.” He’d been thinking more of his image than his new dog’s comfort.

“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. A gold heart hung from the collar. He tried to imagine what he’d say if he bumped into anyone he knew. His imagination failed. “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
.”

He grinned at her, feeling a lot better about the upcoming evening in his own home. “I’m hoping that means ‘yes-’ ”

Her eyes tilted up at the corners when she smiled. 
”It means ‘very well.’ Now you say it.” She removed the tea towel she’d worn aroundher 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 that chick from Amelie. Sophie had the same mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a sexy way with her in the kitchen. He didn’t care if she did feed him dog food. He’d eat from her hand.

“Don’t worry, Mimi’s menu would rival Taillevent in Paris.”

“So, tell me about yourself,” Vince said to Sophie, 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.”

“Was I?”

“Yes.” His eyes crinkled a bit when he smiled, and he developed a fascinating groove in one cheek that was probably an old scar. “You were going to tell me how you came to live in New York because you 
are crazy about New York men. Especially tall ones.”

She laughed a little. “Well, it’s true. I did come here because of a man. He was a chef in the restaurant where I worked.” She shrugged. “We fell in love, and I moved here with him. It didn’t work out.”

Bad news for the chef. Good news, he hoped, for Vince. “What happened?”

How did she explain Gregoire? A brilliant chef, temperamental and edgy, drugs had been his undoing. But he’d unraveled in a dangerous fashion when he’d lost his job because of the drugs and then turned to crime to pay for his expensive habits. “He turned out not to be a good man,” she said at last.

When Vince looked at her with pity, she continued, “He fell in with the wrong people. He got out of jail a couple of months ago.”

“Has he bothered you?”

She shook her head. “He called, but I made it clear I won’t see him. He is, as you Americans say, history.”

“Good.” Vince ate rapidly but she still believed he was tasting every morsel and enjoying it. “Is there a man in your life now?”

She blinked. Her new employer wasn’t exactly subtle.  “Is there a particular reason you ask?”

Oh, how he could make her shiver with just a look. “Yes. The obvious reason.  I’d like to … get to know you better.”

She rose and collected their plates. Vince also rose, and they cleared the table together. She went to the sink, and he moved her bodily out of the way. “You cooked. I’ll wash up.”

This was so domestic that her heart gave a curious lurch. She found a cloth and dried the dishes he washed. His kitchen contained a stainless steel dishwasher, but it seemed natural for them to do this mundane task together rather than pushing everything into a machine. There was silence for a moment. Then he said, “Is
 that a problem for you?”

“You’re a very direct man.”

“Yes, ma’am. Clear, direct speaking is how I operate. I try to say what I mean and mean what I say. If more people did that, there’d be fewer problems in the world.”

“But more hurt feelings, perhaps.”

He grinned at that. “Well, I believe in direct speaking used judiciously, how’s that?” His hands were so big, and yet he washed dishes with ease. She liked the way they looked, those hands, wet and covered in soap bubbles. Oh,
mon Dieu!
She was having fantasies about those hands on her body.

“Better,”
 she said, finally answering his question.

“So? Will you go out with me?” He paused in his task and she felt him looking at her.

“I’m not sure.” She dried a plate so earnestly she nearly rubbed off the glaze before she realized what she was doing and placed it in the cupboard. “May I be as direct?”

“Of course.”

She took a moment to compose what she wanted to express. She wasn’t one for blurting out exactly what she wanted—she wasn’t used to hearing it done by others, either. On the other hand, she was drawn to this man with his big hands and his sweet, absurd dog, and his very straightforward manner.

“Come on,” he said, “spit it out. If you’re not interested, say so. I’ll live.”

Oh, no. NOT being attracted to this man was most definitely not her problem. She ran her drying cloth through her hands. It was navy and gray plaid. Testosterone made cloth. “The last time I was this attracted to a man I ended up moving to a new country, learning a different language, and my lover ended up in jail. I’m … hesitant to get involved. And with a man I work for.” There. She’d said it, and Vince himself couldn’t have been more direct.

He pulled back a little, and she could see she’d surprised him. “Well, to take those points one at a time. I’m not asking you to change countries. We live in the same city. This seems to be a bilingual household.
 I stay within the law.” He stepped closer. “I liked the part about you being attracted to me, though.”

He took the tea towel out of her hands, flipped it over her head so it looped around her neck, and pulled her toward him.

“And the part about me working for you?” she asked a trifle breathlessly. He was close and she could feel the insidious pull of attraction much stronger than the pull of the tea towel. His mouth was gorgeous, full lipped and so close she could stand on her tip toes and reach them. His skin was swarthy, lightly stubbled.

“I promise that if this doesn’t work out it won’t affect your job.”

She gazed at him, at his rugged, take-no-prisoners face and his sensuous eyes feeling herself melt.

“Why don’t we take this one step at a time?” he said, letting his lips whisper across hers. “Slow.” He came back for another pass, adding a little pressure, his body touching hers lightly from chest to belly. “And easy.” And he kissed her again, this time his lips settling on hers as though they meant to stay awhile.

She sighed into the kiss, slid into the easy warmth and pleasure of holding and being held.

New. She loved the new aspect of this man, all his secrets and mysteries yet to be revealed. What was he like as a lover? Which side of the bed did he sleep on? Was he grouchy in the morning? A shower Pavarotti?

She felt the thrill of sensation from her lips zipping all through her body, and she sensed that before long she’d be finding out the answers to all those questions.

Not quite yet, though.

She eased slowly back, knowing if she kissed him much longer, she’d be unable to pull away.

“Stay with me tonight,” he said, his voice gruff with passion, his eyes dark and intense on hers.

“We only met yesterday.”
 Which was amazing. she felt as though she’d known Vince for a long time. This was her trouble, she fell for men who made her feel that she could trust them long before they’d earned that trust.

“What does length of time have to do with it? Some things you know, instantly.”

She understood what he meant, of course; she’d felt that strong and instant attraction, too, but she needed to think a little longer before moving to the next stage.

“You promised it would be slow and easy. Please. I must go,” she said.

He nodded. She felt his disappointment but he pulled away immediately. “”I’ll drive you home.”

“Drive me? But–”

He gestured to her knee, which she’d forgotten about since all her senses had been preoccupied with kissing. Vince’s lips on hers were better than any pain reliever she could buy at the pharmacy. “You got hurt looking after my dog. You sacrificed yourself to save the family jewels.” He touched her cheek with one blunt fingertip. “The least I can do is drive you home.”

“All right. Thank you. And we can take Mimi out.
Viens-ice, Mimi
,” she called briskly, pulling her attention away from Vince with an effort. The dog twirled and yipped with delight as her new lead was clipped to her new collar.

Vince took her hand as they left his apartment, and she didn’t stop him.

It felt nice, his hand. Large and warm. As they left the building, her warm, fuzzy feeling was abruptly shattered.

“Get out of here,” they heard a man yell, followed by a familiar bark.

“Oh, no,” she cried, seeing the dog who’d come to her and Mimi’s aid being chased away by a burly man in jeans and a grimy T-shirt. She squeezed Vince’s hand. “That’s the dog who helped us.”

“Hey, Bert. What’s going on?” Vince asked.

“God damned stray. I thought I’d got rid of it, but some asshole’s been feeding the thing.” He brandished the remains of the bone she’d given the dog herself. ”

A stray?” she asked. “Are you sure he’s a stray?”

“Course I’m sure. He hangs around, goes through the garbage. I called the pound couple times, but the bastard always runs away when he sees the truck.”

“He’s a beautiful dog, and so brave,” she said. The Doberman loped up and put his nose against her side as if to say, “Can’t you do something?” He’d saved her and Mimi from goodness knew what. He was big and brave and sweet. There must be something she could do for him.

As she was racking her brain for an answer, Mimi took matters into her own paws. “Vince, look,” Sophie said, laughing. Mimi was on her hind legs waving her two front paws at the big dog. “She plays coquette.”

“That’s great, lady. You hold on to him while I call the pound. The bastard won’t get away this time.”

“
Mais, non
!” she cried. “This dog must not go to the pound. He’s a good dog. Brave and strong. He needs a home.” She turned to Vince, who looked back at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’m sure the animal shelter will find him a good home,” he said.

Sophie stroked the dog in a way that looked far too much like an owner. “I wish I could have pets in my apartment, but it is not possible,” she said, patting the dog’s head the way she might have caressed a loved one on his way to the guillotine. “Look how well he and Mimi get on.”

Vince felt a prickle of sweat form beneath where his hat band would sit if he were wearing a hat.

She glanced up at him, all gorgeous and sexy and her big eyes full of appeal. “If only you could take him while we try to find him a new home.”

He knew where she was going with this, and it was vital he cut her off at the pass. “Sophie, I just got a dog.” Though looking at Mimi, he knew that wasn’t entirely true.

“Please, Vince, couldn’t you give him a try? He’s probably lost, and his owner is desperate to find him.
 I will put an ad on the Internet and make posters to put in public places. Please?”

He stared down into eyes that were big and blue and made him forget that his nickname was Bulldog because he was tough and uncompromising. He dropped his gaze to avoid saying yes to absolutely anything only to find two pairs of brown eyes staring up at him, as though the dogs knew it was all up to him. He’d stared down angry teamsters, managed to hang tough in the face of threats ranging from legal action to physical violence, and he’d never wavered. But when Sophie looked at him with naked appeal in her eyes, he had trouble thinking, never mind saying no to her.

The Doberman had protected his girls when he hadn’t been around to do it, and at least the Doberman looked like a dog, acted like a dog, and smelled like a dog; maybe he’d rub off on Mimi. Still, Vince wasn’t a pushover, and he was determined not to act like one.

He glared at the woman and the dog going dopey-eyed underneath her stroking hand—something he’d
 like to try sometime. “Is he house trained?”

“He’s a very intelligent animal,” she said in some indignation, but not answering the question.

“You want my opinion, you’ll let the animal control people deal with him,” the super said.

“No one asked for your opinion,” Sophie said, indignation deepening her French accent.

A few more tense seconds passed before he gave in to the inevitable. “All right,” he said, raising one finger before she broke into torrents of gratitude. “But it’s for a trial only. If that dog messes in the house or does anything I don’t like, he goes to the pound. That is not negotiable.”

She nodded, her eyes shining.

“All right,” he said again, knowing when he was beaten. “I’ll take him in until we find him a home.”

Of course, he was too evolved a man to hope that if he took in the dog at her request Sophie would be
 so grateful she’d sleep with him.

No, he realized, when she squealed with delight and kissed him full on the mouth, he wasn’t evolved at all. He hoped she was grateful. Very, very grateful.

The super sent him a disgusted look as though Vince had let down the entire male gender. With the scent of Sophie still in his nose and the taste of her on his lips, Vince didn’t much care. “Yer making a big mistake,” the large guy said and stomped away. Mimi yapped at his retreating back, 
as though to say, “and don’t come back.”

The Doberman added a deep growl. “They’re going to tag team us, aren’t they?” Vince said to Sophie. “Tinkerbell and Godzilla.”

“No,” she assured him. “They’ll be company for each other. Mimi will be much happier, I’m certain.” She leaned her lithe, sexy body against his. “Also, Sir Galahad only understands English so Mimi will have to learn.”

He put an arm around her. “They’ll probably be terrible tonight, what with the Doberman settling in and everything. Probably it’s too much for one person. You should definitely stay the night.”

She smiled at him, the kind of smile that he bet went a lot of the way toward earning the sexy reputation French women enjoyed. “I’ll sleep better knowing he’s guarding you and Mimi,” she said, and walked on, the Doberman trotting at her side.

Vince wasn’t one to blow his own horn, but he had been a wrestling champ in college. He’d worked as a bouncer at a hot Manhattan club one summer. He did not need protection. Unless it was from one much too sexy Frenchwoman who had somehow added another dog to his increasingly crowded life.

Three days ago he’d been a single man, living a bachelor existence in the greatest city in the world.

And since his aunt’s funeral, his happy household of one had quadrupled. He looked at his three companions. One fourteen million dollar poodle, one very sexy French nanny who’d managed to get mugged, alienate his super, and saddle him with a homeless Doberman, and the stray mutt himself, who might or might not be house trained, not to mention dangerous or psychotic. There might be a very good reason why a dog known to have a fierce disposition was homeless. And yet, the Doberman had helped save Mimi and Sophie. Vince believed in returning a good deed with interest.