Her neighbor was also an imposing man, at least six feet tall. Since Robin was only five-three, he towered head and shoulders above her. Instinctively, she stiffened her back, meeting his dark eyes. “Good morning,” she said coolly.
He barely glanced in her direction, and when he did, he dismissed her with little more than a nod. After a night on the ground, with her son and a dog for bedmates, Robin realized she wasn’t looking her best, but she resented the way his eyes flicked disinterestedly over her.
Robin usually gave people the benefit of the doubt, but toward this man, she felt an immediate antipathy. His face was completely emotionless, which lent him an intimidating air. He was clearly aware of that and used it to his advantage.
“Good morning,” she said again, clasping her hands tightly. She drew herself to her full height and raised her chin. “I believe your dog is in the tent with my son.”
Her news appeared to surprise him; his expression softened. Robin was struck by the change. When his face relaxed, he was actually a very attractive man. For the most part, Robin hardly noticed how good-looking a man was or wasn’t, but this time…she noticed. Perhaps because of the contrast with his forbidding demeanor of a moment before.
“Blackie knows better than to leave the yard. Here, boy!” He shouted for the Labrador again, this time including a sharp whistle loud enough to pierce Robin’s eardrums. The dog emerged from the tent and approached the hedge, slowly wagging his tail.
“Is that your dog?” Jeff asked, dashing out behind Blackie. “He’s great. How long have you had him?”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you again,” the man said, ignoring Jeff’s question. Robin supposed his words were meant to be an apology. “He’s well trained—he’s never left my yard before. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Blackie wasn’t any bother,” Jeff hurried to explain, racing forward. “He crawled into the tent with us and made himself at home, which was all right with us, wasn’t it, Mom?”
“Sure,” Robin answered, flipping her shoulder-length auburn hair away from her face. She’d had it tied back when she’d gone to bed, but it had pulled free during the night. Robin could well imagine how it looked now. Most mornings it tended to resemble foam on a newly poured mug of beer.
“We’re friends, aren’t we, Blackie?” Jeff knelt, and without hesitation the dog came to him, eagerly licking his face.
The man’s eyes revealed astonishment, however fleeting, and his dark brows drew together over his high-bridged nose. “Blackie,” he snapped. “Come.”
The Labrador squeezed between two overgrown laurel bushes and returned to his master, who didn’t look any too pleased at his dog’s affection for Jeff.
“My son has a way with animals,” Robin said.
“Do you live here?” Jeff asked next. He seemed completely unaware of their new neighbor’s unfriendliness.
“Next door.”
“Oh, good.” Jeff grinned widely and placed his right hand on his chest. “I’m Jeff Masterson and this is my mom, Robin. We moved in yesterday.”
“I’m Cole Camden. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Although his words were cordial, his tone wasn’t. Robin felt about as welcome as a punk-rock band at a retirees’ picnic.
“I’m getting a dog myself,” Jeff went on affably. “That’s why we moved out of the apartment building—I couldn’t have a pet there except for my goldfish.”
Cole nodded without comment.
Oh, great, Robin thought. After years of scrimping and saving to buy a house, they were going to be stuck with an ill-tempered next-door neighbor. His house was older than the others on the block. Much bigger, too. Robin guessed that his home, a sprawling three-story structure, had been built in the early thirties. She knew that at one time this neighborhood had been filled with large opulent homes like Cole Camden’s. Gradually, over the years, the older places had been torn down and a series of two-story houses and trendy ramblers built in their place. Her neighbor’s house was the last vestige of an era long past.
“Have you got any kids?” Jeff could hardly keep the eagerness out of his voice. In the apartment complex there’d always been plenty of playmates, and he was eager to make new friends, especially before he started classes in an unfamiliar school on Monday morning.
Cole’s face hardened and Robin could have sworn the question had angered him. An uncomfortable moment passed before he answered. “No, I don’t have any kids.” His voice held a rough undertone, and for a split second Robin was sure she saw a flash of pain in his eyes.
“Would it be okay if I played with Blackie sometimes? Just until I get my own dog?”
“No.” Cole’s response was sharp, but, when Jeff flinched at his vehemence, Cole appeared to regret his harsh tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but it’d probably be best if you stayed in your own yard.”
“That’s all right,” Jeff said. “You can send Blackie over here to visit anytime you want. I like dogs.”
“I can see that.” A hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Then his cool gaze moved from Jeff to Robin, his face again expressionless, but she sensed that he’d made up his mind about them, categorized them and come to his own conclusions.
If Cole Camden thought he could intimidate her, Robin had news for him. He’d broadcast his message loud and clear. He didn’t want to be bothered by her or her son, and in exchange he’d stay out of her way. That was fine with her. Terrific, in fact. She didn’t have time for humoring grouches.
Without another word, Cole turned and strode toward his house with Blackie at his heels.
“Goodbye, Mr. Camden,” Jeff called, raising his hand.