Apparently, the "PTSD-oh-hell-no" was going to win today, which sucked because the "yay-hot-client" would have felt so much better.

The panic closed in fast and furious, clamping down on her lungs like a vice. Paige stumbled backwards, reaching for Bandit as he pressed himself up against her leg, as he always did when a panic attack hit. She dug her fingers into his fur, focusing on his soft, damp coat. The moment she did, some of the panic eased, enough that she could think.

Okay, she needed to chill, and look at the facts instead of reacting emotionally. Like the fact that the man standing in front of her might look like he was from her old world, but that's not why he was there. He was looking for a dog trainer. Not an attorney. A. Dog. Trainer.

He was looking for Paige, the dog trainer, not Paige, the ex-attorney. Right? Right.

The words settled in her mind, giving her space to breathe again, more deeply this time. She looked at him more closely, and noticed a patch of long, brown dog hairs on his left leg, as if his dog had brushed against him as they were getting into the car. Aww…he had dog hairs on his nice suit. That was awesome. It was going to be okay. All okay.

Now she knew why she'd found him to be so hot, despite his nice car and gorgeous clothes. The man had a dog. That automatically gave him street cred. Handsome as sin, plus he had a dog? No wonder her hormones had gone a little wonky. It all made sense now. Yay for logic!

Plus, he was a potential client. Income would be great, given that most of her dog training these days was donating her time to the Give a Dog a Bone dog shelter back in Boston, four times a month. She was still building her business, and a client would be fantastic. Especially one who could probably pay his bill.

Feeling much better, and super impressed with herself for her excellent recovery, she smiled at him. "You've found Freedom Dog Training. I'm Paige Turner, the owner and head trainer." She was, in fact, the only trainer, but it sounded better to imply she had an entire staff of professionals because she was so damn good, right?

"Really?" He surveyed the small cottage with what could definitely be interpreted as a haughty smirk, if she were insecure enough to do so, which she definitely was, so yay for her.

So…was he disdaining her adorable little cottage, or was her slightly skewed view of suit-clad men interfering with her perception of reality? She'd learned enough in her self-help book obsession to know that fabricating reality was a very distinct possibility.

So…which was it?

Was he an enemy with fantastic style, or a potential bestie who simply had no clue what life in New Hampshire was like, or somewhere in between? His suit and car indicated that he wasn't accustomed to the casual New Hampshire lifestyle, so that could explain his confusion, right? It was understandable that he would be surprised a business could be run out of a cottage, with no signage. There was a time when she would have also been surprised. Back when she was a city girl.

She decided she liked that interpretation of his question. There was no need to feel like he'd just likened her to the muck on the bottom of Rockwood Cove. So, again, super proud she'd managed to choose the more innocuous interpretation, she grinned at him. "Yep, really. Typical New Hampshire office. You're obviously not from around here?"

He shook his head. "I'm from Boston."

Oh…he was from Boston. The root of all her misery. Her stomach tightened, and she decided to change the subject quickly, before she had a panic attack. Nice cars were one thing. Custom suits, another. Put those together with the word "Boston," and the trifecta might do her in. Time to focus on the only thing that made her life worth celebrating these days. Canines! "You have a dog?"

"Yes." He walked toward her, apparently tiring of the shouting across the twenty-foot gap between them. She had halted quite a distance from him when she'd first arrived, after all.

As he neared, Paige instinctively edged back from the heat he was giving off. Not actual heat. More like a smoldering cauldron of masculinity, which she was so not prepared for, and really not interested in. She'd sworn off men after her fiancé had utterly failed to support her when the law firm had done her in. His complete abandonment of her had taught her important life lessons about heartbreak, trusting the wrong guy, and all that sort of fun stuff.

She was definitely not ready to jump back in the dating pool, or even try her luck in the random-sex-with-strangers pool. And if she ever did, she would stay far, far away from the type of man who'd taken a chisel to her poor little heart and done his best to mince it up into teeny, tiny pieces that were currently held together by duct tape.

This guy might be here for a dog, but he seemed far too much like her old life for her to feel remotely comfortable with the degree of attraction she was feeling.

He stopped, apparently sensing her thinly-veiled terror of his hotness, showcasing a level of consideration that was unexpected, and proof that he couldn’t be a lawyer.

She knew what lawyers were like. Not that she was judgmental or anything, but they were doughboys who used money and power as a substitute for actual testosterone. Okay, maybe a little judgmental. Just a bit. But at least she could acknowledge it, right? So that was a bonus.

This guy was too raw, too untamed, too considerate, and too strong to possibly be a lawyer. She was just overreacting due to her law firm PTSD, right? Overly sensitive. Looking for threats where there were none. There was no way he was a lawyer…was he? She had to know. "Are you a lawyer?"

He lifted his eyebrows above the rim of his glasses, revealing dark, vibrant brows. "Yes, as a matter of fact I am. What gave it away?"

Oh…can't breathe. Can't talk. Must pass out.

He reached out quickly, as if to catch her. "Are you all right?"

She stared at his hand, shocked by his instinct to help her, and by the fact he'd sensed her distress. Dammit. He was nice? How could he be nice to her? That would make her like him, and her defenses would falter, and her little heart would want to peek out into the sunshine again, and then disaster would ensue all over again. But despite her best wishes to not care that he'd reached out to help her, to offer her a single hand of support, which was more than her fiancé had ever given her, she felt better. Just having his hand on her arm made her feel less panicked and more capable of breathing. She managed a breathy smile at him. "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

She meant the thanks. For a girl who'd had her self-esteem carefully carved up by lawyers, both the one she'd been sleeping with and the ones she just worked for, she really did appreciate the fact that this particular one was nice.

His eyebrows went up again, and he didn't lower his hand, clearly not completely believing her. "Are you certain?"

"That I appreciate your concern? Yes, I'm absolutely certain."

A grin crooked the corner of his mouth. "I meant, are you certain you're all right?"

"Oh…right. That makes more sense. I'd have to be an ogre not to appreciate your concern, and I think we can both agree that I'm not an ogre."

His grin widened. "You still haven't answered my question. Are you sure you're okay?"

Again, she heard the genuine concern in his voice, and the last of the tension around her lungs eased. He really was nice. Like, the whole nine yards, nice. Suddenly, her throat tightened, and she had to look away. She wasn't used to nice, when it came to men like him. "I'm sure. I really appreciate your concern, though." Her gaze flicked toward him, and she suddenly wished he'd take his sunglasses off. She wanted to see his eyes, to see if they were as kind as his voice…and as if he'd heard her, he raised his glasses and rested them on top of his head.

Good heavens. She'd never seen such riveting blue eyes before. They were bright blue, like the sky on the most gorgeous of summer days. Her heart literally skipped a beat as she met his gaze, so intense as he studied her. Heat flushed her cheeks, and she shifted relentlessly, her body literally warming at the way he was looking at her.

"No problem." He grinned. "I'd have to be rather heartless not to care, don't you think? I try not to be heartless on Sundays, so today is your lucky day."

She grinned. "I guess so." He even had a sense of humor?

"Maybe mine, too." He held out his hand. "I'm Luke Donovan, of Hawthorne, Finch, & Stims."

"HF&S?" Oh, God. Really? She took a step back, panic trying desperately to consume her. At his nod, her hands started to shake. His firm occupied the floors directly above her old firm. He'd probably heard all about her episode. It had been all over the building, she was such a joke. She'd been the woman who was supposed to break through the glass ceiling at her firm, the first one to make partner, and she'd completely crashed and burned. She still wondered how far she'd set back the women who had come behind her at her old firm…and Luke might even have been one of those people waiting in the lobby for an elevator when she'd been wheeled out.

"Whoa. Now, I know you're not okay." He stepped forward, catching her arm before she could retreat. "You need to sit down." His voice was gentle and kind, his hand strong and supportive.

The feel of his hand closing around her bare arm literally shocked her back into the present. His touch was warm and strong, comforting, and sexy as all hell. She looked down at his hand, heat rising in her belly at the sight of his fingers clasping her elbow. Holy crap. One touch could have that affect? What about a hug? Or a kiss? Or something even more…

God. What was her problem? She had to stop this! Quickly, she moved her arm away and held out her hand to shake his. "I'm totally fine. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Donovan."

She shook his hand, nearly falling over in surprise as her nerves roared to attention. His hand wasn't soft and pasty like she'd desperately hoped it would be. It was strong and powerful, as if years of hard labor had built that muscle. Just having her hand in his made all her panic flee instantly, replaced by a warmth that made all her nerves simply settle.

"Most business associates call me Mr. Donovan." He held her hand after they were finished shaking, as if he were unwilling to let go. "But please, call me Luke."

"Luke." That was a great name. Strong. Sexy. Kind. She smiled at him, increasingly aware that he was still gripping her hand. Why? Was he as entranced by this spark between them as she was?

He glanced at their entwined hands, as if he'd just realized he was still holding her hand, and then quickly released her.

Damn. He'd let go very quickly, once he'd made the move. No slow, deliberate temptation that would indicate he had the hots for her.

Of course he wouldn't. Men like Luke would not be interested in who she had become: a rural New Hampshire dog trainer. She knew what they liked, what her ex had wanted her to be. She'd tried so freaking hard to fit that mold, until there was nothing left of herself, and then she'd given still more, until that horrible day when she'd snapped.

Even when she'd tried to fit in, she hadn't been enough for that world. Her ex had left her quickly once he'd realized that she couldn't be what he wanted. His bags had been packed literally forty-eight hours after her collapse, after seven years of being together.

So, she was so not going to go down that road with Luke, or even fantasize about it. She was not a romantic fit for him, and that was fine. Better than fine. She so didn't need anyone in her life who was from her past, who believed in all that had nearly destroyed her. No need for that, right? It wasn't like she had time to add multiple low-level panic attacks into her day, right? She had things to do. Dogs to train. Fantasies about hot lawyers that she needed to scour from her mind. She was a busy girl.

She did, however, suddenly notice that he was staring at the dirt and leaves on his hand, as if he didn't quite know what to do with it. Yeah…oops. She'd forgotten her hand was still covered in muck. Yay her for being so suave and sophisticated. "Sorry about the dirt. Want a towel? I can grab one from inside."

He gazed at his hand as if he wasn't quite certain that he wanted to wipe it off. Probably because he didn't have a towel. Not because he was feeling the same sparks that she was, right?

Then he looked up and met her gaze, and something leapt inside her. There was something smoldering in his gaze, something unmistakably…hot.

Oh….

For a moment, she forgot to breathe, completely stunned by the way he was looking at her. She wasn't in his world anymore. As far as he knew, she was totally a non-starter when it came to his level of class and sophistication, but he was staring at her as if he saw a fire within her that she'd never been able to access.

She had no idea how to handle the interest in his eyes, so she managed an awkward giggle and flashed her palm at him to show him the source of the muck on his hand. "Sorry. My hand was dirty." She pulled her t-shirt out of her shorts and stretched the bottom of it toward him. "Use this. It's wet, but at least it's clean, since it was in my pants."

Luke's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously?"

"Um..." Crap. She was losing her mind. Tell me I didn't just offer my shirt to him to wipe his hand. But she had. Hell yeah, she had. She managed a guffaw that sounded more like a dog with kennel cough than a flirty chuckle. "No, of course not. I was just joking, right? Trying to ease the tension." Yeah, right. Heat fused her cheeks.

"Well, it worked." He flicked his wrist, sending several leaf bits to the ground. Another flick banished some of the dirt, but there were still a few flecks clinging. Involuntarily, he glanced at Paige's shirt, and she swallowed.

"Sorry, you missed your chance," she managed, trying to somehow act like she wasn't a complete idiot.

"My loss." He cocked his head. "Definitely my loss." The second was a whisper under his breath, almost too quiet for her to hear…but she did hear it…and yes…it did make her belly tighten.

What. The. Hell. What was with all the sexual tension here? This was not her modus operandi…oh…that meant it was his. Was he one of those guys who tried to sleep with anyone with breasts? God, she had to stop thinking about her breasts. "Did you bring your dog with you?" Please let him say yes. She had to get focused on something that didn't have the potential to make her head explode and her fragile little heart disintegrate into little puffballs of powder, drifting through the wind.

But dogs didn't seem nearly as appealing as the idea of losing herself in his gaze again. Maybe she should just enjoy the hot-Luke-scenery and stop worrying. Most of the locals were grizzled and gray, men who were on the wrong side of the half-century mark. Even if Luke was a lawyer from Boston who wouldn't want her and who she wouldn't want, that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate him physically, right? Just a little harmless eye candy to make a girl's day, right? That was okay.

Yes, yes, that was fine. Her shoulders relaxed, and she took a deep breath. It was just an attraction. Nothing else. Nothing harmful. All was well.

"My dog? Oh, right. Yes." Luke rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking weary and defeated, stripping away the façade of arrogant lawyer, and leaving behind only a man who needed help.

Her heart immediately softened. "What's going on?"

He nodded toward the car. "My dog's a nightmare. I can't deal with him."

"A nightmare?" She sighed at his word choice, completely disappointed. She realized she'd already started to think he was a nice guy, to believe that maybe this moment didn't have to be about her past. But he'd called his dog a nightmare? What loving dog owner did that? "Why do you have a dog if you don't love him?"

He raised his brows. "He's not that easy to love."

She set her hands on her hips, gladly grasping the opportunity to talk herself out of liking him, or even being attracted to him. If he didn't like his dog, then that told her all she needed to know about him. "All dogs are loveable. They're endless sources of unconditional love and positive energy. Yes, sure, some of them have some behavior issues, but we can still love them." Her ex hadn't believed in love, unconditional or not. Bandit had been the first time she'd felt loved and appreciated for who she was in a very long time, maybe ever.

Yeah, okay, so she had love issues. Who didn't?

Luke sighed. "Trust me. This one isn't lovable. But I don't need loveable. I just need to be able to manage him. Can you do that?"

She sighed. "You are such an inspiring dog owner."

His eyebrow shot up. "Maybe you should meet him before you judge me."

She winced. What was wrong with her? Was she really that disappointed because he wasn't the guy she'd started fantasizing about? She should know better than to have let her guard down. It wasn't his fault he was who he was. It was hers for letting it bother her.

She took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. "Fine, but just to let you know, I do have standards about who I work with, and liking your dog is a prerequisite." She shot him a stern look to let him know just how serious she was, kinda impressed with herself that she had the courage to stand up to a lawyer. It was actually a little cathartic to be a bit sassy with him, to be showing a little personality.

Because she had a good personality, she was pretty sure. Or at least she would, once all the scars from years of crushing her inner sparkle had finally disappeared.

His eyebrows went up, and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were totally entertained by her sass.

Hmm…maybe Luke was her final key toward healing. Maybe if she could learn to be her sassy self in his presence, then all the damage from her law-firm-hell/turd-brain-ex would finally fade away. Hell, yeah, that sounded fantastic! Luke had been sent by her guardian angel to sass her up. How awesome!

She flashed him a brilliant grin, feeling markedly better, and started toward his car. "He's in your car?"

"Wait." Luke caught her arm, sending those same sparks through her as had happened the last time. Clearly, her hormones weren't remotely concerned he was an attorney. So, that was good, right? Talk about a raw physical attraction...hold on. They hadn't been talking about hot, sexy stuff. They'd been talking about his dog. Right. His dog. Oh…unless he'd stopped her to start talking about playing footsie and—

"The dog will run away if you let him out. Let me get the leash," he explained.

"Ah." Of course he'd stopped her about the dog, not because he wanted to practice massage techniques on her. She sighed and took the leash. "The dog. No worries. I'll be ready."

Paige cracked the door open a tiny bit, bracing her knee on the outside of it to keep the dog from pushing it open. As she did, she caught the smell of leather, and paused for just a moment to bask in the scent. A nice car didn't atone for the misery of being a lawyer, but she had loved her Mercedes. She saw a flash of brown in the back seat. "You have a German Shepherd? I love Shepherds—"

The dog suddenly lunged toward the barely open door. She braced herself, but she suddenly found herself flung backward as the dog threw himself against the door and shoved it open. She lunged for the dog as it raced by her. Her fingers caught on the collar, and then he was out of reach, sprinting right for her dog. "Crap!"

Luke grinned, the tiniest bit of smugness in his smile. "Super loveable, huh?" He held out his hand to help her to her feet.

She accepted his hand, and let him pull her up, relaxing when she saw his dog had stopped to sniff Bandit, and they were both wagging their tails happily. "He has energy. That's loveable."

She wiped the dirt off her bum, and Luke raised his hand as if he were going to do the same. He froze, as if realizing what he was about to do, then quickly lowered his hand. He cocked his head. "You're ever the optimist when it comes to dogs, aren't you?"

"It's in my best interest to do so, given my job." Paige watched his dog sniff with Bandit. The Shepherd was well over a hundred pounds, but had the leanness and floppiness that indicated it was still closer to puppy than full-grown adult. The pup was pure energy and strength, not a dog that would ever fit into the lifestyle of a high-powered Boston attorney. He was drop-dead adorable, and she kind of wanted to run over, throw her arms around him, and hug him until her arms fell off. But since that maybe wasn't quite the professional dog trainer image she wanted to present, she decided to control herself. "He's gorgeous."

"Thanks." Luke frowned at him. "I swear he's bigger than he was when I put him in the car an hour ago. How big do Shepherds get?"

"Big." She cocked her head, studying him. "I had you pegged for a toy dog, or something like a cockapoo or pug. An apartment dog of some sort," Paige mused, wondering how on earth he managed to fit a Shepherd into an attorney's grueling schedule. "What's his name?"

When Luke didn't answer, she glanced at him. He had a pained expression on his face. "His name is Muffin."

She rolled her eyes at his jest. "God, can you imagine? A Shepherd with a name like Muffin?" She grinned. He'd made a joke. That was a great sign, right?

A muscle ticked in his right cheek. "I'm not kidding. That's his name."

"What?" She realized that he wasn't blinking. He was telling the truth. "Pooh." A giggle started at the back of her throat and bolted out her mouth. She clapped her hand over her mouth and turned away. "Muffin?" Dear God. Luke had given his huge, rowdy Shepherd a name that belonged to a small, fluffy lapdog that wore pink bows on groomer days? "You do realize he must weigh over a hundred pounds, don't you? That he's the same breed that's used as police dogs? And attack dogs?" She started laughing again, unable to stop herself. It was just so incongruous with both the man and the dog.

The left corner of his mouth curved up ever so slightly. Did he actually have a sense of humor? Impossible. "I'm aware that the name doesn't fit him, but it's not my fault."

"Whose fault is it?" That was definitely the beginning of a smile. The man practically had a dimple. Heaven help her. She was already much too aware of him as a man. There most definitely did not need to be a dimple added into the equation.

"My sister's. She named him."

"And you let her?"

"It was her dog at the time." Luke cocked an eyebrow at her. "He was pretty cute when he was seven weeks old. Muffin didn't seem overly inappropriate at the time. Not that I would've named him Muffin even then, of course."

"Of course." Now that Luke was talking about his sister, his voice had moved from a deep rumbling to a resonant rolling bass drum. Interesting. It almost made her toes curl.

Muffin had followed Bandit to the edge of the woods, where the two of them were sniffing around the base of a tree, smelling stories that humans would never know.

"My sister got married last weekend. Her husband is allergic to dogs, so she can't keep Muffin. She couldn't bear to give Muffin to a stranger, so I got him. She comes over every day to see him."

Luke's voice was gruff. With emotion? Aww… The man loved his sister. That was super sweet. He'd taken in a dog that didn't fit his lifestyle just to keep his sister happy? Damn him. That was worse than him having a dimple. She did not need him to become more attractive, thanks so much.

The attorneys she'd worked with, and the one she'd shared a bed with, hadn't been the kind of people who would adopt a huge, rambunctious dog named Muffin, just to keep his sister happy. Maybe Luke wasn't a purebred lawyer after all. Maybe he was a mutt that just looked and acted like a lawyer. Maybe there was hope. Not that it mattered. He was too closely related to the life that had destroyed her. Even if he had a few redeeming qualities, there was no way she could even consider him. For heaven's sake, just seeing his car had made her start hyperventilating again. It would never work. She literally could not go back anywhere near that world, or near a man from that world. She had to focus on the dog, the dog, and only the dog. And definitely not the dog's super appealing owner.

The dog. Right. She needed to talk about the dog. "Muffin isn't running away," she pointed out, almost starting to laugh again when she said the name. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to call that dog Muffin without laughing. "So, that's good."

"Yeah?" Luke raised one eyebrow at her. "You ain't seen nothing yet."

She grinned at his goofy accent, folding her arms over her chest. "Lay it on me. I can take it."

"Check it out." He walked toward Muffin, calling his name. The closer Luke got to Muffin, the less Muffin concentrated on sniffing the tree, and the more he focused on Luke. When Luke had almost reached Muffin, his hand a mere six inches from Muffin's collar, the dog ducked under Luke's hand and bolted across the yard, barking and flipping his head. Bandit bounded after him, delighted to have a pal.

Luke threw up his hands, shooting a helpless look at Paige. "He does that every single time. He knows exactly where my hand is. The dog's a veritable genius of manipulation."

Paige grinned at Luke's response. Regardless of how good a guy he was, she could already guess that he wouldn't have succeeded at his firm if he was a man who was okay with not being in control. Muffin would certainly help him learn to deal with not being able to control everything, as long as he didn't have a temper. She'd seen plenty of bad-tempered lawyers, and in fact, been victimized by them, because she was lucky that way. But she liked Luke's response, and the good-natured furrow to his brow.

"It'll take me hours to catch him now," Luke sighed, watching the dogs frolic as he walked back to Paige. "He thinks it's hilarious to torment me."

"Ah, poor Luke." She patted his shoulder in consolation, allowing her hand to linger for just a moment longer than was proper. He was so muscular, and so what if she couldn’t help but notice? She was human, not a robot. "On the bright side, he's not actually a person, so he can't do things like intentionally torment you. He's just being a dog."

Luke snorted. "Look at the expression on his face. He's basking in the fact that I have no chance to catch him. Can't you hear him laughing? He's definitely laughing at me. He'll never come."

Paige grinned. "Never?"

Luke glanced at her. "Is that a challenge?"

"Yup."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Go for it. Try to catch him."

"Sure." She pursed her lips and whistled shrilly. Bandit bolted toward her, and, as she knew he would, Muffin followed on his heels, eager to find out what Bandit was after. When the two dogs reached Paige, she gave a treat to Bandit, ignoring Muffin. Like any good dog, he became pushy the moment he realized Bandit was getting treats, and he wasn't. He impatiently shoved his nose in, trying to snag a treat. She gave him one, and quietly snapped the leash on him while he chewed. She grinned at Luke. "Easy peasy."

"How'd you do that?" Luke looked genuinely shocked.

"I'm just fantastically brilliant and gifted, of course." She laughed at his comically disgruntled look, crouching down to play with Muffin, grinning when he gave her kisses. "He was following Bandit. Dogs learn from each other."

"God, that's brilliant. Can I take your dog with me, then?" His gaze flicked toward where Muffin was licking her collarbone, just above the neckline of her tee shirt, and the look in his eyes was momentarily, like completely, distracting until she managed to refocus.

"No, you don't get my dog." She ruffled both of the dogs' heads. "I keep him."

Luke's eyes were dark as he watched her. "I suppose that's best. Your dog probably wouldn't want my life. How long should I leave Muffin with you? A few weeks? I don't know how this works."

She sat back on her heels, smiling at him. Somehow, she wasn't completely surprised that Luke would think that leaving his dog to be trained would make sense. "Well, some dog trainers work like that, but that's not how Freedom Dog Training works."

He cocked his head. "How does it work?"

"You need as much training as Muffin."

He paused for a moment. "I'm not a dog."

She grinned. "I didn't say you were. I'm pretty aware that you're a man." The moment she said it, his eyebrows went up, and her cheeks immediately heated up. Crap. She hadn't meant it to sound like that. "I just meant even if I train Muffin to obey me, it doesn't mean he'll obey you. You and Muffin have a partnership, so you have to go through training together."

His gaze flicked to her neckline again, and then back to her face. "Together? With you?"

With her? His question hung in the air, and suddenly, the space between them felt very small. She cleared her throat. "Yes, with me. One-on-one sessions." Suddenly, those words seemed to carry innuendo that they'd never had before. Did she really want to deal with him again? And again? And again? He was everything that had, quite literally, almost broken her, and she'd made it pretty clear that he was dangerous to her foundations, in all sorts of ways, including terror, anxiety, and unfiltered sexual longing, none of which she really wanted to deal with at the moment.

Or ever.

Yeah, try ever.

She stood up, suddenly wanting out, away from him, away from all that he represented, and all that he made her feel. "You know, I'm sure you're super busy with work, and I can see that might not be the best arrangement for you. I know of a couple places that will take Muffin. Shall I give you some other names to try?"

He studied her. "Maybe."

Maybe? Why wasn't he grabbing that escape she'd just offered both of them?

God, he was intense. Sexy, masculine, and strong. She'd never be able to handle being around him. She was so not ready to face all he represented yet, if ever, and she certainly wasn't ready to be in another relationship, and that was a definite never. "Why don't I run inside and write down a couple names for you?" She held the leash out to him, but he didn't take it. "Seriously. Here. Take the leash."

He just stood there, silent, as he apparently considered her question. As she waited, she began to relax. He'd never hire her. She'd been irreverent, bossy, and dirty. Not to mention, working with her would take a lot of his time, time that any lawyer from his firm simply didn't have. He might be tempted, but she knew what the answer was. There was literally no way Luke could hire her. She was safe.

"Paige."

"Yes?" She held out the leash again, not quite able to suppress the feeling of disappointment that he was going to walk away, and she'd never get the chance to be completely uncomfortable around him again.

"You're hired."