Three long days later, Mack had been almost successful in keeping his resolve. He hadn't thought about Bev at all, except when he looked at his dog. Or any other dog. Actually, he thought about her whenever he saw any domestic animal. And whenever he saw Whittle's name on a document. Or heard Whittle's name. Or saw an old junker of a car. Or the time he'd passed a florist and had wanted to stop and buy her flowers. Or when he saw that stuffed puppy dog in the window of the toy store and had been on his way into the store to buy it for her. But that wasn't all the time, so he was pleased with himself. Sort of.

Until he'd sat down with Whittle and the sellers to negotiate the purchase of the shelter property. Then he couldn’t stop thinking of her, even when Whittle's sweaty brow was in his face demanding his full attention.

Whittle. The man was the stuff of nightmares. Once he'd found out Bev had made up the story about the EPA, Whittle had made it his personal agenda to make her suffer. Whittle held a high degree of antipathy for attractive people, unless they were stupid. But since Bev was smart and beautiful, and had made Whittle look dumb, Whittle had made it his personal agenda to return the favor.

Mack was in a rank mood. Usually he enjoyed late night business deals, because it kept him out of his empty house. Not tonight. Negotiating on behalf of Whittle to try to get Bev kicked off the property as soon as possible had been miserable. Whittle wanted two weeks until closing, instead of sixty or ninety days. Unbelievable. Unfortunately, Mack knew he'd be able to get it, if he battled hard enough.

He'd been relieved when the sellers had walked out at ten fifteen, delaying resolution for another day. Another day of grace for Bev. Not much, not enough, but better than putting the final nail in the shelter's coffin tonight. But then Whittle had demanded he stay for wine and a delivery of Italian food, a meal that hadn't set well in his stomach, not with Whittle's glittering eyes plotting Bev's demise, his pudgy hands wrapped around his pizza like a doughy octopus.

Mack had to endure Whittle for nearly two hours before he could tactfully excuse himself, his release coming only after Whittle had drank enough wine to become slothfully indulgent. Mack was now sitting in his SUV in front of Give a Dog a Bone Animal Rescue, the glowing clock on his dashboard announcing three minutes past midnight. He should have gotten on the highway to go home, but instead his car had driven him over to the shelter. All on its own.

An uncovered light bulb over the front door of the shelter cast a haunted glow over the chipped asphalt, and the rusted car was parked at a careless angle. Bev was still at work, and it was his fault. A tug of affinity caught him, as he realized she was like him, working until the late hours for a cause she believed in. His was to never let anyone he loved die because there wasn't enough money, hers was animals. Two of them with passion and a willingness to work as hard as necessary to accomplish their goals.

Mack gritted his teeth. With each passing moment, with each new piece of information or conversation, his attraction to Bev increased. It would be best if he left now, before he could see her again, inhale her pure scent, and hear her voice.

And he would leave, except for the fact that it was past midnight and Bev was alone in the shelter. Vulnerable and exposed, should any asshole decide to break in. He couldn't drive away and leave her alone in the warehouse.

He was going to check on her, and he'd just have to exercise enough control not to touch her...because he couldn't give a woman like Bev the relationship she deserved, so he needed to stay away.

Glad he remembered that. For a moment, he'd been unable to remember a single reason to stay away.

Mack pulled the leftover wine and food out of the backseat and nudged the door shut with his hip. He started to walk to the door, then changed his mind, going back to his car to retrieve Janey.

"Come on, girl. Let's go find Bev."

He was irritated to find the front door unlocked for any wayward passerby. Didn't she have any sense of her own vulnerability? Anger simmered inside his chest at the thought of Bev falling victim to some jerk. It was a good thing he'd stopped by to check on her. He stepped through the door, locking it behind him once he and Janey were inside.

Again bypassing the bell, he walked back toward the animals. Only a few quiet yips sounded, as most of the dogs were curled up on their fleece beds, their noses tucked and their eyes squeezed shut, probably dreaming of happier times.

Mack walked slowly, peering into each pen. His throat tightened when he finally found her.

She was sitting in a pen on a fleece dog bed, her laptop computer open on her knees, and her head lolled back against the wire wall. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes resting against her cheeks. The blond hair he'd spent too many nights fantasizing about was cascading down her shoulders, curling up at the ends.

Her hands were buried in fur: a beagle was curled up on one side, nestled against her thigh, while a shaggy gray fur ball was spread across her feet. A woman who slept with her dogs. That was the kind of woman he could fall in love with.

Mack scowled. Not that he was the type to fall in love. But if he were, he'd definitely need a woman that would sleep with dogs. He had yet to date a woman who would be willing to have Janey on the bed. Which was one of many reasons why none of them had lasted. But Bev would fit perfectly into his life. Or at least his bed.

A tiny snore jerked his attention back to the present. He wasn't sure if the snoring was coming from her or the dogs. He kind of hoped it was her. For some reason, he found it ridiculously sexy.

Then again, he seemed to find everything about her ridiculously sexy.

He tapped softly on the wire cage, keeping his voice low. "Bev?"

The beagle lifted her head, resting her chin on Bev's thigh so she could inspect Mack and Janey. Her eyes were the same expressive brown that Bev's were.

Mack unlatched the door and swung it open, cringing when it banged against the wall. Both dogs immediately leapt to their feet, barking. Bev's head jerked forward, her bleary eyes trying to focus. When she saw Mack in the shadows of the doorway, her face blanched in terror and she jumped to her feet, the laptop sliding to a safe landing on the fleece bed.

"Bev, it's me. Relax." He wanted to reach out and steady her, hold her until she calmed down. But he didn't.

She staggered slightly, sleep still fogging her eyes. "Mack? What are you doing here?"

He held up the remainder of the wine and a brown paper bag. "Dinner and drinks. I thought you might need it."

Bev rubbed her eyes, still looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Have you had dinner tonight?"

"I don't know. I guess not. What time is it?"

"Late. Mind if I join you?" Without waiting for an answer, he walked across the rubber mat and handed her the bag. "Do you like Italian food?"