A few minutes later they approached the house and were greeted by excited barking. “This is Fala, another rescue.”

Adam crouched to greet the dog. Fala sniffed him before sitting and leaning against him, her head resting on his thighs.

“Hey, Fala.” He gently rubbed her ears and the side of her muzzle. “Are there any more pretty females locked away in the house?” Fala’s tail thumped against the ground. Adam rubbed more vigorously; the tail accelerated its rhythmic beat on the dry earth. He stopped rubbing and the dog pushed her head back into his hand. “Ah, you like that, don’t you, old girl?” His voice was gentle and his hand moved back to the sensitive place, stroking her cheeks before they slid back and found the sweet spot behind her ears. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Up behind the ears and around the back of the neck. All the girls like that.”

Marlo shivered as if Adam was speaking to her, stroking her neck and soothing her. She looked at Fala again. The old dog was normally circumspect around strangers, but with Adam she had forged a quick connection. What was this guy doing to the females around the place? “Okay, let’s go.” Her voice caught in her throat. Any more of this and she would be panting as much as the dog. She set off for the house, expecting Adam and Fala to follow.

Entering through the mudroom, she kicked off her sports shoes and socks, pressing her feet onto the cool tiled floor. Inside was hotter than the summer day outside, and she moved about the house, flinging open windows and the sliding patio doors that turned the living room into a large open-plan area. Her shirt clung to her body and she was keen to shower.

Adam had followed her into the house and was close behind her, taking up way too much space. She cleared her throat. “You take first shower. Do you need washing stuff?”

He watched her for that long moment before answering. “Let me check the car. At the very least I should have a clean shirt in there.”

While Adam went to his car, Marlo hurried to the bathroom. She laid out a towel and washcloth and checked the shower for plenty of soap and shampoo. She heard him come back into the house and called to him but he was already coming up the hallway, and they practically collided at the bathroom door.

“Sorry,” she said as they bumped into each other, then both moved in the same direction again.

Laughing, he took her by both elbows and held her still. “Are we conserving water?”

She liked the supporting cup of his hands at her elbows and she fought the desire to lean slightly into him. Was she crazy? And did that conserving water in the shower thing mean the same in New Zealand as it did for her? She took a step away from him. “It’s okay,” she told him, “there’s plenty of water.”

“What a shame.” He teased, steering her out into the hallway and releasing her.

She was slicing tomatoes when she heard him enter the kitchen. “Better?” she asked, keeping her focus on the knife.

“So much better. Thanks for that.”

She stole a quick glance. His wet hair looked volcanic, glossy like obsidian. And oh, hell, if that weren’t enough check out the cologne…and the more than six feet of man blocking any sunlight from reaching beyond him and up the hallway. He wore fresh clothes and looked, well, hard. All over. Except there…don’t look there.

His feet were bare. Naked. It looked sexy and, yup, if a man with bare feet liquefied her insides, she needed to get out more.

Marlo put the knife on the board and wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans. “I’ll take my shower.” Her voice had pitched too high.

“Give me a job to do while you shower. I’m handy with a knife, vegetable peeling, chopping big things into little things—anything, really.”

She pointed to the knife. “You can keep working with this salad if you want. There’s beer in the fridge, so help yourself.” Without looking at him again she escaped up the hallway.

Adam took a long, thirst-quenching draw from the beer bottle. He was skilled with the knife, taught at an early age by a mother who had been of the opinion that men should not be redundant in the kitchen. His mind hurtled rather than wandered toward the image of Marlo taking her shower, the floral-scented suds skipping down that little body as she washed away the day’s grime. He acknowledged, then dismissed the image when he felt a stirring in his groin.

Something tickled his neck and when he reached up he found that the thin gold chain he wore was loose. He grasped it just as it slipped free. The wedding ring the chain had been threaded through dropped to the floor. He caught it with his foot as it bounced and rolled across the kitchen, stuffed the broken chain in his pocket and slipped the ring onto his finger. So, Em, was that a message from afar to say you didn’t appreciate the carnal thoughts?

Since Emma had died, his sex life had been on a “need-to-go” basis, no emotional attachment, no morning-after, no promises. But that woman in the shower had given his feelings a good rattle.

Marlo had a careless grace and vulnerability that could be enticing if he allowed her in. Although she was adept at reading the body language and signals of the dogs, she appeared completely unaware that she constantly gave out clues about herself. His professional hunch was that she was suffering some sort of post-traumatic stress…but hey, wasn’t everyone these days?

Emma, on the other hand, had been confident. With none of Marlo’s grace, she was sturdy and dependable, and like him, born from generations of farming stock. Quick to laugh, with an open face and eyes that always filled with light, she never appeared vulnerable, and this was very likely a contributing factor to the reason Adam had been unable to protect her. Hard to defend someone who doesn’t have an enemy—but, he hadn’t considered he had enemies, either.

“Are you ready for some more chopping?”

He swung around. Oh, brother, she looked amazing. When he went to speak he hoped his voice would cooperate. “Wow, look at you! You look gorgeous.”

She glanced at the door as color tinged her cheeks. “Thanks…ah…I’ll pick us some salad herbs.”

Good, while you’re doing that, I’ll grab some self-control.

Through the large kitchen windows, Adam watched Marlo choose herbs from the garden. She’d wound her damp hair into a haphazard knot that begged to be loosened. He was certain she was unaware of how transparent her dress became when backlit by the late afternoon sun. How it broadcast that she’d taken care choosing her underwear. Her sports bra was replaced with something more…uplifting, which, dammit, was lifting more than her breasts. His cock stirred insistently this time. The algebra distraction he’d employed when Marlo showered had no lasting effect and he decided to progress to calculus. If that didn’t talk it down, he’d have to agree that math was sexy and move on to something more numbing. Except, he’d been numb for so long, he really wanted to stick with the thaw for a while.

* * *

About twenty staff and volunteers, along with an assortment of dogs, had gathered in the large courtyard. Outside were tables and seating, with another dining area indoors.

Marlo explained, “Basically, this is part of the communal living area. It’s modeled like a hostel or backpacker’s accommodation. Anyone wanting more privacy can rent cabins which are self-contained. Most tend to congregate here in the evenings.”

Lulah joined them, trailed closely by a small blue-and-white pit bull. “Calliope, say hello to Adam.” The dog sat and held a paw up.

Adam crouched and took the paw. “Pleased to meet you, Calliope.”

“Is Vince here?” Marlo asked, looking around.

“No, he’s had to go away for a couple of days so Calliope is staying with me.” Lulah bent and gave the dog a scratch. “Miss your daddy, don’t you, little girl?”

“Is he okay?” Marlo asked

Lulah shrugged. “I guess not. Something triggered him to head for the hills. He turned up yesterday evening looking all jumpy and handed me Calliope’s leash without a word. He gets this kind of pleading look, like he’s begging me not to question him. He gives Calliope a kiss on the head and walks off. He was carrying a pack; I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Marlo sighed. “Until the next episode. Do you think they’re happening more often? He needs to get help.”

“Oh, good luck with getting him down that road. Marine, remember?”

“Are you scared of this guy?” Adam asked.

Lulah laughed, shaking her head. “No, not at all. But Marlo used to be.” She gave her a nudge.

Adam turned to Marlo. “Why? Did he do something?”

“Yeah, he had the nerve to turn up here looking all hot.” Lulah was fanning her face with her fingers. “Didn’t he, Marlo?”

“Those tattoos are…intimidating.”

“Stereotyping, much?” Lulah teased.

“They look menacing.”

“Hot,” Lulah repeated.

“Lulah!” Marlo could feel her cheeks flaming. Although it seemed silly now, Vince had scared her a bit, at first. He was all broody silence and dark stares. Boy, was she relieved when Lulah made a breakthrough with him.

Adam cut in. “Have you had him checked out?”

“Lulah’s checked Vince out, haven’t you, Lulah?”

She grinned. “I’m not apologizing. Like I said, the dude looks hot, I like to look.”

Marlo’s eyes widened.

“What?” said Lulah. “Scoping a hot body’s not only for the guys, you know.”

Adam raised a hand and grinned. “Okay, let me put that another way. Have you done a background check on Vince? Marlo found him intimidating. He’s a Marine prone to anxiety attacks. Is he flipping out? Was he deployed? Does he have PTSD? He’s big, strong—and has a hot body—that’s for you, Lulah.”

There was a rapid tick in her chest. Adam’s probably right; she should have checked to see if they knew anything about Vince. They weren’t always stringent about checks on volunteers. Some people slipped through. “I’ll see if we’ve got something in the files. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Get him checked out. At least know what you’re dealing with—anger, depression, fear, trauma. He might not be dangerous, but the guy clearly needs help.” Adam turned to Lulah. “So, Calliope is Vince’s dog, right?”

Lulah nodded, “Yes.”

“How is she when he’s gone?”

“Huh,” Lulah’s mouth quirked. “No one’s ever asked that before. We’ve always been so worried about Vince. How is Calliope? Calliope is concerned when Vince goes off. She’s edgy, she settles but she doesn’t relax. She keeps one eye on the door, even when she’s sleeping. Calliope is very good at not making trouble, not appearing to be neurotic, but she’s certainly unnerved when Vince leaves her.”

“When he needs to go into the wilderness, Vince should take Calliope with him. There’s plenty of research out there that suggests they can help each other. I don’t know…there’s probably a bit of training on the dog’s part that needs to happen, but if you want to help this guy, that’s a direction you might want to take. ”

Marlo was amazed by Adam’s reading of the situation. “Nice insight, thank you.” He was new on the scene yet took the care to look a bit deeper at what they were doing. Did he have experience with the dynamics of a human/dog relationship? Did he have an understanding of the way a dog can help heal a person?

Lulah took the salad from Adam. “I’ll put this with the other food.”

When she was out of earshot Adam asked, “Is Vince Lulah’s boyfriend?”

Marlo shook her head. “Vince helps out around here when he can. It’s pretty informal because he can’t quite hold things together, yet. When his demons come for him he has this need to disappear. You know, Lulah’s so vibrant and fun, yet she has this calming effect on the more edgy people who pass through. It’s all cool.” She smiled. “Come on, grab a drink and I’ll introduce you to Jeff, our veterinarian.”

She left Adam and Jeff outside, each cradling a beer, and made her way to the kitchen. Her friend Sally was in there, pulling together a meal in that way she had of making the chore seem effortless. It was her efficiency that helped her keep her job as Jeff’s technician, but today Sally seemed to be deliberately avoiding him. Her study for a diploma in Animal Homeopathy could sometimes be a contentious issue between the vet and his right-hand assistant.

“Jeff’s glass looks empty. Do you want to take him another beer?” Marlo asked Sally.

Sally shook her head. “No. If I take him a beer he’ll want a soda.”

“Ah, you’ve done it again, haven’t you?” Sally struggled to stop herself from offering Jeff’s clients additional advice, or, as Jeff put it; pushing her witch’s potions on the unwary.

Sally shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What this time?”

“Thunder. A guy brought his dog in who was scared of thunder. Homeopathic remedies are brilliant for that sort of thing.”

“Heck, Sal, you’ll lose your job. You’ve already had a warning.”

“I know, I’m trying, okay?”

“Why not take him a beer. Get back in his good books.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “His legs aren’t painted on. He can do his own bar work. I’m busy with this bread.” She carried on filling a basket with hot rolls from the oven and when she was done, she straightened to put the basket on the bench. “He watches you all the time, you know.”

Marlo paused. “Who? Adam?”

“No, Santa Claus. Who do you think?”

Marlo concentrated on measuring oil into the bowl where she was making vinaigrette.

Sally took the oil bottle from her before lowering her head a little to get right in her face. “I bet that right now, if you cast a sultry glance Adam’s way, you’ll catch his eye.”

Marlo shifted slightly and began whisking the dressing.

“Go on,” Sally insisted, “prove me wrong.”

She had nothing to prove, because there wasn’t anything going on between her and Adam, was there? On the other hand, perhaps Sally was right. If Adam watched her all the time, maybe he was interested. She shook off the bad feeling that the prospect of turning into a perpetual dreamer gave her. I am not my mother. But she was curious, now.

She lifted her head a tiny bit, her eyebrows straining up so that she could get a quick and, hopefully unnoticed, view of Adam. And, yep, he was watching her. His mouth parted and she ducked her head and quickly looked away. Her heart hammered in her chest and that weird prickling started up in her veins, the crook of her arms, the back of her neck. Without too much effort she could still feel his hand gripping her wrist. She whisked the oil and vinegar with renewed force.

“And at the risk of stating the obvious, I think you’ll find you’re now blushing.”

“Sally, stop it. I’m not blushing,” Marlo whispered. She glanced around quickly. “Somebody will hear you.”

Her friend was giving her that skeptical, over the top of her glasses look. “So the pink is some sort of reflection off the tomatoes in the salad? You got the hots for the new boy, Marlo Croft?” She punctuated the question with an eyebrow wiggle. Sally had engaged her inner terrier. She wouldn’t let go until she had the answer she wanted.

“He’s not the new boy…am I really pink? I don’t have the hots for him—maybe the warms. Is that possible?”

Sally laughed. “Warms…give me a break. A ‘warm’ phase doesn’t exist. How it works is cold to hot, instant attraction.”

“No, really, I’m not like that. He’s just visiting. I don’t even know how long he’s going to be here.”

Sally jabbed a finger at her. “You, girl, are totally like that. Except you’re playing it cool. That’s good. Keep that up.”

Marlo poured the dressing into a small jug. “Sal, I’m not playing anything. I don’t know how to do that. There’s nothing going on.”

“If you say so.” Sally looked over at Adam again. “He’s rather divine, though. Those eyes! Jeez, I’d tread water in those deep blue pools any day.”

“I’d drown. I can’t swim,” Marlo admitted.

“Poor guy doesn’t have a chance. The single women in town are drawing lots for him.”

Marlo’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Lottie at the Cake Whole Café made cupcakes in his honor, decorated with the New Zealand flag…except she got it a bit wrong and added an extra star and made it the Australian flag. That’s like putting stars and stripes all over a maple leaf. Apparently Adam was very gracious and pretended not to notice, but Ricky Tonkin came in and announced her error to a full shop. Honestly, that kid’s only eight and he knows way too much for comfort.”

“So do you! How do you find this stuff out? Have you been hanging out in town?”

“I don’t need to go to town. The clinic waiting room has been buzzing like a hive with a new queen.”

“Wow, I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh, not according to the word around town.”

“Oh, God, no.”

“Oh, God, yes. But don’t worry. Cleo at the Well Bun Cake Stop says she can outdo you and the Cake Whole. She’s been on the Internet and found a heavily guarded recipe for a very special cookie they eat in New Zealand.”

Marlo snorted. “So heavily guarded it’s on the Internet?”

“Precisely. And she knows that when she makes them for Adam he will have eyes only for her. They’re called Anzus cookies or Anzac biscuits or something. Apparently Kiwis call cookies ‘biscuits.’ Or so Cleo says.”

Marlo laughed. “Cleo’s old enough to be Adam’s mother.”

“Well—” Sally waggled her finger, “—Cleo says a boy that far away from home always welcomes a little mothering.” She lifted her glass and traced the ring of condensation it left on the counter top. “What a shame he’s married.”

“Married?” Marlo blew out a breath. Married. Wow, I didn’t see that coming.

“What? Hadn’t you noticed?”

“No, no I hadn’t. What was I supposed to notice, anyway?”

“Ring finger, left hand, gold band. A dead giveaway.”

She hadn’t seen a wedding ring. But why would she? You can’t see what you’re not looking for, and she wasn’t looking for a relationship. They were simply thrown together because of work. Maybe they had been a bit flirty, but that would stop. Immediately.

“Who’s married?”

“Oh, hi, Lulah.”

Lulah waited. “Like I asked…” She picked a piece of tomato from the salad.

Marlo stilled Lulah’s hand. “No picking.”

She shifted her hand and grabbed another piece. “Still waiting.”

“Adam’s married.”

Lulah swallowed. “Oh, weird. I never noticed a wedding ring or anything. Did he tell you?”

“No, Sally says he’s married.”

Lulah gave Sally a questioning look.

“Hello, wedding ring.” Sally was waving her left hand around again.

“Never saw it myself,” Lulah replied. “Is this food decorative or are we going to eat some time?”

“Lulah, you’re like a man. How do you stay so thin when all you seem to think about is food and all you do is eat? I think you’re harboring a tapeworm. I’ve got a remedy for that!”

She held her hands in front of her face. “Argh, Sally, stay away from me with your evil potions, witch. You’re an animal homeopath and I’m human.”

“The principles are the same—”

“No offense, Sally, but if I had a headache, I wouldn’t go to the vet. So you stick to squirting your potions into the mouths of animals and we can stay friends.”

Marlo broke in before Sally launched into one of her lectures. “Come on, let’s distribute the loaves and fishes to the starving hordes.”

Marlo crossed the courtyard with her plate of food. Everyone had gathered around the main table to eat. As she approached, Adam stood and pulled out the chair on his left side. She stole a quick look at his hand, fixing on the wedding band. The narrow plain one on his ring finger, that sat there in great, gold glory—an Olympian first prize for some other woman. How could she have missed it?

Jeff kept them laughing with funny tales from the vet clinic. Sally stole the occasional glance in Marlo’s direction, but years ago Marlo had perfected the smile that hid a thousand anxieties, all lip-action without the joy. She plastered it on her face and it was so convincing even Sally stopped checking up on her.

Adam bent toward her. “You’re very quiet. Are you okay?” Now his low voice and warm breath against her ear were improper.

She blocked him with her shoulder and leaned away. “Of course, I’m fine.” She pushed back her chair and stood, as she reached for his empty plate. “Would you like some more?”

“Thanks, I enjoyed it but I’ve eaten enough.”

Jeff spoke. “I did a year in New Zealand on a veterinary exchange.”

“Really? Where were you based?” Adam asked.

“I was in the Waikato, in a rural practice.”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t believe it. The Waikato. That’s where our family farms are.”

“You’re kidding me. What’s the name of the farms? Maybe I visited at some time.”

“Guildford Dairy.”

“Wow, I did visit. What a small world! I was at Waikato Rural Animal Health with Jock Dale.”

“Jock is a great guy. He must be close to retiring now.”

“He’ll never retire. Such a brilliant mind. I learned so much from him. So, Guildford Dairy?” Jeff put down his beer. “You must be Adam Guildford.”

Adam’s eyes darkened, his face impassive. “That’s right.”

Jeff shifted in his seat. “I’m sorry. I heard what happened through the clinic. I’ve stayed in touch with some of them. It must have been terrible.”

Marlo carried a stack of empty plates and put them by the dishwasher. She walked to the other end of the kitchen where a large window framed a view out over a meadow. In the darkness there was little to see despite the moonlight. She bent at the waist, folding over to press both hands on the bench, to stretch. What a week. As if battling Justice’s defenses weren’t enough, now Vince was out there somewhere, fighting his own dark spirits. That first week he’d arrived at the Sanctuary, she had avoided him, unable to see past the emotionally bound and physically daunting man. Then she got the chance to see Calliope do her work on him, to watch Vince accept without question the offer from a dog to help him heal. That was the moment she recognized the special person he was and learned her own lesson about judging books by covers.

As she straightened and stretched again, she heard the even footfall and long stride of a man, across the kitchen. Damn.

“Don’t get up. Keep stretching until you’re done.”

Adam.

“Big week, huh?”

Marlo stood. “It’s always a big week around here.”

“Yeah, I bet. Look, I’m bushed and you look pretty tired, too. I’m going to head back to the apartment. I’ll walk you back to the house, if you like.”

“I’m okay.”

“Sure you are, but it’s dark. We walked down together and I’m not keen on leaving you here to walk back alone.”

“Maybe I’m not ready to go.” Why was she being so defiant? She was more than ready to go.

“I think you are, but I’ll wait.”

Her eyes closed in a little mark of defeat. “You’re right; I’d like to get home.”

She walked this path several times each week, usually alone. Tonight they walked in silence but she could still feel him, feel an intimacy as if they were connected in some way. A little piece of her guard dropped when he was around, so that she didn’t have to keep such a vigilant watch on her surroundings.

She was conscious of their breathing, the matching cadence of their step, and his closeness even though they kept several feet apart. When they reached Adam’s car she barely paused. “Good night, Adam.” She continued walking as she spoke.

He caught hold of her sleeve. “Wait. Marlo. You and I…me, it’s complicated, okay?”

“It always is.” She took a deep breath, struggling to control her voice. She needed to get away from him, the dark, and that voice. That gorgeous, kind, wrap-me-in-warmth voice.

As if reading her mind he stepped toward her, into her space. He took her hand, delaying her departure, and bent to gently kiss her on her forehead. “Don’t judge me yet,” he whispered, allowing her to pull her hand from his grasp.

As she did, her fingers brushed across his wedding band. “I have to go.” Turning for the house she dismissed the lesson she’d learned earlier in the evening. His gold ring was the cover to a book she wouldn’t be opening.