Bev took the bag from him before she could remember he was the cause of her misery, and once she did remember, the smell of oregano and fresh bread was too tantalizing to resist. Plus, the earnest look on his face was so endearing. And his woodsy scent reawakened the sensations of his hands on her thigh, soothing, teasing... She cleared her throat. "Are you operating under the philosophy akin to 'fattening up before the kill?'"

"Do you have any glasses around here?"

"No." She had to get him to leave. Already she'd been unable to stop thinking or dreaming about him, even while she was trying to claw her way out of the mess he'd put her in. Having him bringing her dinner would not help her overcome her delusional fantasies that he'd find himself overwhelmingly attracted to her. As hard as she'd tried, she hadn't been able to forget the look of heart-wrenching agony on his face when he'd mentioned not having money for experimental medical treatment. Mack had had his heart shattered, and she knew it.

And she couldn't forget it, and she couldn't reconcile it with a man who would put an animal shelter out of business, a man who had a mutt of his own.

"Be back in a sec." Mack disappeared out of the pen, leaving his rangy mongrel behind.

Bev collapsed back on the fleece bed, grimacing when she caught sight of the time. She'd be a zombie tomorrow, that was certain. Especially now that Mack had arrived. She'd never be able to sleep tonight.

The aroma of tomato sauce and Italian spices teased her, drawing a low grumble from her stomach. Bev peeked into the bag, just to check what he'd brought her. She peeled the foil back to reveal a calzone dripping with cheese. The smell of roasted garlic made her mouth water almost instantly. One little bite couldn't hurt. It didn't mean she had capitulated to her crush on Mack. It just meant she was hungry.

Bev pulled the calzone out of the bag and unfolded it on the floor of the pen, immediately surrounded by three eager dogs.

"You guys are such pigs." She broke off a piece of calzone, giving Janey the first bite.

"Hey, if you're not going to eat it, don't give it to the dogs. I'll eat it tomorrow." Mack reappeared, two plastic containers in his hand.

"I wasn't wasting it. I was merely letting your dog be my taster to see if you'd poisoned it. She's still breathing and her pupils aren't unusually dilated, so I guess I'll take my chances." She picked up the calzone with both hands and took a big bite, as if she were eating a peanut butter sandwich. She paused mid-chew and eyed Mack. "Unless you used slow-acting poison?"

"Why would I want to poison you?" He pulled the other fleece bed beside her and lowered himself to the pillow, apparently not caring that his expensive suit wasn't exactly made for lounging on dog beds.

"Because you know I'm not going to give up on this property. I'm going to be a pain, and you can't stand people who keep you from accomplishing your goals."

"Is that right?" He took the lid off one of the opaque plastic containers and poured some wine in the dish. "Here."

She grinned. "Thanks."

After he poured his, she lifted the makeshift cup. "To your failure and my success."

He touched his cup to hers. "To your success."

Bev waited until he'd taken a sip. "Do you know what you're drinking out of?"

He froze, eyeing her over the top of the rim. "What?"

"This is what I use to take stool samples to the vet."

Mack gagged, spewing wine all over the floor of the cage. "This is part of your nefarious plan to destroy me, isn't it?"

"Nope. You did that one all by yourself." Mack looked distinctly gray even in the dim light, and Bev grinned. "But, of course, these are brand new containers, so they're fine." She took a long sip of her own wine, chuckling into her cup. She had to admit, however, that he was taking the incident with remarkable good humor. Couldn't she find anything about him not to like?

Mack set his cup on the floor of the pen. "Why are you being so difficult?"

"Me? I'm not being difficult, Mack. I'm just cranky, overtired, broke, and entirely without any appealing options whatsoever. And I can't seem to stop holding you directly responsible for all my problems." She took another deep bite of the calzone. "But thanks for dinner. If I didn't know better, I might think you were a nice guy."

To his credit, the man did look a little weary, but she wasn't going to attribute that to feelings of regret for putting her animals out on the street. Just because his shoulders were as wide as a mastiff's, and his chin looked awfully masculine covered with the whiskers of a late night did not mean that the man was nice. No. Men like Les were nice, with his slightly rounded belly and his shirts that never fit him quite right. And nice was what she wanted. Nice and safe. A man who wouldn't reject her if she was careless enough to fall in love with him.

As if she could ever convince herself of that.

Mack stretched out on the fleece bed, patting it. All three dogs curled up next to him, with Mac on his lap. She wrinkled her nose. "Mac. Get off him. He's not your friend."

Mack looked startled and rolled to the side, checking the fleece under his behind. "Who am I on?"

"I was talking to my dog. Come on, Mac."

A slow grin spread across Mack's face. "Your dog is named Mack?"

"Spelled without a 'K', but yes, same name. Only until I change it, though."

The smile faded. "Ouch."

Bev took another bite of calzone, followed by a sip of wine. "I'm sure there are others who feel the same way about you, but no one has the nerve to tell you." She felt so guilty being mean, but it was her only hope to resist the unbearable attraction swirling through her. If she could only remember how he was putting her animals out of their home, then maybe she could keep herself from obsessing about him. What was her problem? Just because he'd suffered didn't mean he was a good guy. Shoot. She had to stop worrying about him. She had enough to worry about already.

"I'm so grateful to have you around to keep my head from swelling," Mack remarked dryly. He leaned forward and pulled her laptop onto his fleece bed. "What're you working on?"

"My future." Despite his suit, the man looked downright comfortable snuggled among the three dogs. It was so incongruous with the money-grubbing consultant he portrayed so well. It was, however, right in line with a man who loved his dog and brought her dinner, a man who had suffered deep, personal grief. Darn it. There she went, thinking about his appealing traits again.

Mack peered at the computer screen. "You're working on the sign you're going to put on the door after you move out?"

"Yeah, well, people will wonder where they can go for dogs, and I need to tell them."

Mack eyed her with just the slightest hint of despair. "What else are you doing?"

"I'm trying to figure out a way to ruin Whittle's credit record so he can't buy it, but I haven't figured out how. If only he'd hire Josie to bartend one of his parties, I could poison his drink."

"No, seriously, Bev. Why don't you take some control here?"

"Control? You're the one with the control."

"I have control only because I took control, but I took away only one option. Why don't you be creative?"

"I'm working on a crowd funding post about the shelter to ask for donations. It should be up by tomorrow."

"Why don't you branch out? Have you even looked for other properties?"

"I can't afford other properties," she said. "I can barely make the payments on this place, and the owners are giving me a deal."

"How do you know? Maybe someone will donate a property. Talk to a local real estate agent. You never know what you may find."

Bev sat up, tilting wine onto the fleece bed. "You don't get it, do you, Mack? I'm not like you. I'm not a winner. I'm one of those people who has to fight for every inch, and as soon as I stop fighting, everything slides away. This is just one more time in my life that you win and I lose. I can't beat people like you."

His brow furrowed into three horizontal lines. "What are you talking about?"

She crumpled up the tinfoil from the calzone and threw it at him, her toss falling short. "Like that. You probably would have hit me, but I miss when I try to peg you in the forehead. That's my life. Why do you think I love these animals? Because they're losers, with no homes and no future. So I try to give them good futures, and they love me for it. They're not going to pee on my shoe because I'm fat. They're going to love me because I earn their love."

"You aren't fat. And I wouldn't pee in your shoe even if you were."

She paused. "Really?" No, dammit. Just because he promised he wouldn't pee in her shoe, that wasn't enough! Bev waved her hands around her head, as if to ward off an irritating mosquito. "That's completely not the point. See? You can't even understand someone like me."

Mack was on his knees before she could react, grabbing her flailing hands. "Try me."

"Let go of me." Ignoring the rush of awareness bursting through her at Mack's nearness, she forced herself to try to twist her hands free. Mack tightened his grip and gently tilted her onto her back, moving over her so she was trapped between his hips and the fleece bed. For a moment, she froze, overwhelmed by the intimacy of their position, by the fact she was physically at Mack's mercy. Would he take advantage of the situation? She shivered, almost hoping. Okay, not almost. She was totally hoping.

Then she noticed Mack's eyes. They were dark, curious, expecting her to push him off. Embarrassment surged through her as she realized she'd done absolutely nothing to make him get off her.

Damn. She had to be offended by his actions, didn't she? That sucked. Bev took a deep breath. "Get off me, Mack."

"In a sec." His eyes were searching her face, looking for her true meaning. She knew in that instant he would get off immediately if she really wanted him to. But from the smoldering look in his eyes, she guessed he could read what was really on her mind.

"My dog will attack you if you hurt me." From this angle, she could see a faint scar underneath his chin, behind his jawbone. Maybe he wasn't so perfect. Yeah, right. He would never be interested in someone like her, and even if he was, he was a jerk who put money ahead of animals. Two strikes.

Except that he was still straddling her in an extremely suggestive position, and she could see his pulse in his throat, as if he was feeling his own set of tensions at the moment. Was there a chance he wanted her?

"You mean the dog who's licking my ankle right now? I'm terrified."

"Traitor."

He chuckled. "Me or him?"

"Both of you. Maybe I shouldn't change his name after all." She shifted, but all it did was settle him more deeply across her hips, pressing against the junction of her legs. He felt so incredible, so right, so tempting. "I think this position could be kind of suggestive. I just wanted to point that out in case you didn't mean it that way." Of course he did. But she couldn't believe it. Why would Mack want to kiss her?

He grinned. "Really? You think? I was just practicing my wrestling technique."

"Wrestling?" Her heart fell. How could he be thinking about sports right now? Bev frowned. Was he really not remotely affected by their position? Disappointment welled up, but she lifted her chin. Better to find out now while she still had some semblance of dignity. "Why are you sitting on me?"

"Because you looked more comfortable than the fleece bed I was on."

"Oh." She was nothing but a piece of furniture to him. Lovely. Apparently deciding he didn't want to be ignored, her dog crawled between them and settled himself on Bev's chest. "I feel like a couch with both of you sitting on me."

"Trust me, you don't feel like one to me."

"What do I feel like?" Hope fluttered through her.

"Uh...you don't want to know. Let's talk about your shelter."

"My shelter?" She couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Yes." His voice was firm, reserved, determined.

She took a deep breath. "Fine." If his position didn't affect him, she wasn't going to admit it was sending her insides into a flurry of desire.

Mack shifted slightly, his legs fitting perfectly around her hips. "Don't give up on your shelter. So what if you lost this property? There are other options. I'll help you figure some out, if you want."

How could she think about her shelter with Mack sitting on her? With his legs wrapped around her hips, his pelvis crushing hers, his hands resting loosely on her hips, so close to her stomach...without clothes, they'd be in the perfect position to... Whoa. Maybe if he came right out and told her that their intimate position wasn't remotely stirring him, then she could concentrate on the shelter. It would be like water on a fire. "Tell me what I feel like so I can start listening to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're stubborn, aren't you?"

"Sometimes." She moved her hand to the top of her dog's head, freezing when the back of her hand brushed against Mack's chest. Heat burned her skin, consuming her with the urge to flatten her hand against Mack, feel his body beneath her touch...

Mack put his hand over her hand that was against his chest, pressing it to him. "Fine. I'll tell you what you feel like."

She stared at her fingertips, barely visible under Mack's much larger hand. Her hand was anchored to him, as if he wanted her there, as if he didn't want to give her the chance to escape...as if she would ever try.

"You feel like an incredibly soft and tempting woman who molds perfectly to my body." His voice was husky, and his grip on her hand was unyielding.

"Oh." Her response was nothing more than a faint squeak, her heart thumping so hard she could barely hear her own voice. That was not the answer she'd been expecting, not the answer that would help her forget her attraction to him. "Interesting description."

"You asked." He still didn't release her hand, and she couldn't seem to drum up enough control over her hand to withdraw it. As if she had any desire whatsoever to do so anyway. He studied her, his eyes probing hers. "Are you offended?"

"Um...no." Should she be? It was hard to think with the blood pounding so hard in her ears. "Or maybe I am. I don't know."

Mack chuckled. He dropped his finger to her lips, brushing his fingertips over them. "Has anyone ever told you that your lips are incredibly tempting?"

"Definitely not. That would be ridiculous." She felt like whimpering as his fingers tickled her lips, wanting to beg him to bend down and kiss her. Never would she dare make the first move with a man like Mack, but if he were to take the initiative...

Mack lifted one eyebrow. "And I suppose it would be ridiculous if I told you your eyes are the most alluring eyes I've ever seen?"

"Absolutely." What a story this would make for Josie. "So stop it." Unless you mean it.

But Mack would never mean it with her. She could never mean anything to him. He'd break her heart if she gave it to him.

Mack bent closer, and Bev could see each individual whisker on his jaw. "Your eyes remind me of a doe's eyes."

Her stomach flip-flopping, Bev slapped his chest with her free hand. "Give me a break. That's such a line." Wasn't it? He couldn't possibly mean it, not to her.

"A line? Do guys say that to you all the time?"

"They say it in the movies." Oops. That made her sound like a loser. No need for that. "I mean, yes, guys say it to me all the time. Constantly. Lots of guys."

He rubbed his chin, looking much too thoughtful. His eyes were so dark she couldn't even see his pupils. Why were his eyes so dark? Passion? Mystery? Deception?

"Want to know the real reason I sat on you?"

She snorted nervously, suddenly realizing that Mack had indeed turned out to be the type who would sit on her. Though it hadn't exactly been how Josie had predicted. "To remind me of how inconsequential I am?"

"Because I was hoping to get close enough to kiss you."

Her mouth dropped open and heat surged through her body. No way.