by Mia Sheridan
I raised a brow, wondering what had been so important. Before I had the time to ask the question aloud, I heard a vehicle in the driveway. A few moments later, I heard Kira's voice call, "Hello?"
"In here, dear," Charlotte called.
I looked over my shoulder as Kira walked hurriedly into the kitchen, setting a large box on the floor with holes in the top. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at the large container.
"A surprise," she said, grinning.
I groaned. What on earth had she come up with now?
"But first," she said, sitting down on the stool next to me, "we're officially married. I brought the marriage license to Mr. Hartmann. Our check will be processed today and cut tomorrow. We can pick it up first thing in the morning."
Excitement shot through my body. "What?" I asked. "Really?"
"Really." She grinned. I couldn't help myself. I stood and picked her up in a hug, spinning her around as she laughed.
"We did it," I said almost unbelievingly, coming to a standstill and setting her on her feet in front of me. She smiled up at me, her eyes shining, her smile bright. And I earned the dimple.
"I know," she breathed. I stared down into her eyes, the need to kiss her so intense, I had to wonder if it was natural, or if Charlotte's herbs were still running rampant through my system.
I was interrupted, though, by the soft sound of something scraping from inside the box still on the floor behind us. I knitted my brows and Kira's grin increased, that bewitching dimple popping out again, as she stepped away from me, moving quickly to whatever was on the floor.
Turning, I asked, "What have you done?"
She squatted on the floor, opening the box and lifting out what looked to be a large puppy or a small dog. Soulful dark eyes stared at me warily and bright green ones regarded me excitedly. "Oh my," Charlotte gasped, hurrying over to Kira. "And who is this?" Charlotte lifted the metal tag at the dog's neck and read, "Sugie Sug?"
"It's pronounced like Sugar, but with an ie on the end," Kira said proudly. "And then like the rapper, Suge Knight. Sugie Sug."
"Oh, yes," Charlotte said, as if she even knew what a rapper was.
"Maybe I should have spelled it with an SH," Kira said, her eyes shifting upward as if in thought.
I shook my head, turning my attention back to the thing in Kira's arms. "What is a Sugie Sug?" I asked. "And what's wrong with its face?" It looked as if the entire bottom half of the dog's face, the nose and jaw, had been mangled in some way.
Kira pulled the thing, what I could now tell was an older puppy, some kind of mutt, into her chest and covered its ear with her other hand. "Shh," she said. "She can hear you, you know." She gave me a contemptuous frown. "And Sugie Sug is a she." She smiled down at the puppy who looked up at her with what looked like barely contained hope. "Aren't you, baby girl? Aren't you, sweet sugar pie? Yes you are, you're a girl, a good girl. Such a good girl. A sweet, good girl." I grimaced at the sound of the high-pitched baby talk. But apparently the puppy didn't mind it one little bit.
The dog, trembling in an obvious attempt to hold back her rapture at Kira's attentions, licked her face with that strangely deformed mouth. Kira laughed and then covered the puppy's ear again. "I rescued her. Her first owner muzzled her when she was barely weaned. And then he didn't take it off as her face grew. When she was found, she was almost dead and had to have the contraption surgically removed." She took her hand off the dog's ear. Charlotte, who was clicking and cooing like a grandma meeting her grandbaby for the first time, scratched the puppy's ears.
"Oh, the poor little dear. You don't worry about a thing, Sugie Sug. You're going to fit in just fine around here." In her obvious excitement, the puppy let out a small squeak and then lowered her head as if expecting dire consequences as a result of the small, escaped noise. She looked at us, her eyes raised dismally, her head still lowered.
"Whoa, whoa, around here?" I asked. "No. The last thing I need is an animal running around getting in my way. I don't have the time for a pet."
Kira frowned, and then thrust the dog at me, forcing me to take it from her. "I rescued Sugie Sug for you. She's yours. Consider her, um, my wedding gift. And a thank you for your kindness this weekend." She grinned. I was momentarily stunned, staring down at the warm weight in my arms, those large, dark eyes trained on me with a mix between fear and hope. I felt a strange stirring in the region of my heart. Oh, Jesus. Kira had gone and gotten me a puppy after the story I'd told her about my father. Irritating little witch. Sweet, compassionate, irritating little witch. I sighed.
It had been a kind thought, and I was glad she wasn't upset about how we'd left off on the patio after our date. Still . . . "Kira, I can't have a dog named Sugie Sug. I don't even know what that means. But it sounds incredibly girly."
"Oh," she put one finger up on her lips, "well, that's what I named her and she seems to be attached to it. Her full name is Sugar Pie Honey Bunches, Sugie for short." She was holding back a barely suppressed smile. This amused the little witch.
I considered the animal again. She was wretchedly ugly. Pitifully unattractive. Damaged. Despite her deformity and her unacceptable name, I couldn’t bring myself to send her away now that she was in my arms, looking at me with such raw hope. I did have a large property. She could run around—I'd probably never even see her. Although at the very least, she'd need to be trained not to eat the grapes, as they could be dangerous to dogs. I set her on the ground. She stood stock still, staring at me. "She's still a puppy, and you just got her today. She can learn a new name." I backed up. "Come here, Scout." She tilted that ugly head, sitting down squarely on her butt.
Kira moved back, too. "Come here, Sugie Sug," she called. The dog scampered over to her immediately, its overly large paws clicking on the floor. Kira scooped her up and started babbling to her in that same highly irritating baby voice.
"Come here, Sugie Sug," I called experimentally. Kira put her down on the ground and the puppy scampered over to me, squeaking again and then lowering her head in that scared, bashful way. I scooped her up and looked her in her eyes. "First off, you're allowed to talk around here." She regarded me with those expressive eyes as if she understood what I was saying. She licked my cheek tentatively. I looked up at Kira and Charlotte who were both grinning broadly. "Fine, she can stay," I said, clenching my jaw and turning around with my new puppy and heading for the door. My new puppy named Sugie Sug. What the hell was happening to my life? "I'm going to show her the house and get her used to a new name," I called as I left the kitchen.
Happy feminine laughter followed me up the stairs, a sound I suddenly realized I'd never heard so often in this house . . . before Kira had come along.
**********
The next morning, bright and early, Kira and I headed downtown to pick up the check that had been the catalyst and reason for this whole marriage. Mr. Hartmann handed it over and wished us happiness and good luck and, not ten minutes after we'd entered the building, we were back out on the street, staring at each other as if in shock. I grinned at Kira and said, "Let's go open a bank account." She smiled back and nodded. Heading to a different bank down the street, we walked past the bank where Kira had first seen me. Kira might have good memories of that particular bank, but I couldn't stomach opening an account at the place that had rejected my loan request—whether their rejection had been justified or not. Still, I thought about the last time I'd been there, how hopeless and low I'd felt. I grabbed Kira's hand and gave it a squeeze. She grinned over at me, her dimple popping out. A lock of her fiery hair fell in front of one eye, and I couldn't help myself. I stopped and walked her backward toward a building and pressed her against the wall, giving her a quick, hard kiss, and then grinning at her surprised expression.
"Get a room," someone walking by mumbled. Kira looked briefly shocked, and I gave her my best devilish grin, raising my eyebrows.
"No," she said resolutely, slipping out from under me, but she glanced back, a teasing smile on her face. My
heart flipped in some unfamiliar way. I laughed, walking quickly to catch up.
An hour later, we had separate accounts, each containing three hundred fifty thousand dollars. As we drove back to the vineyard, something inside me suddenly felt ashamed, as if I was stealing money from her. As if I had little right to what I'd just taken. "I'm going to pay you back. You know that, right?" I asked, looking over at Kira.
She nodded, studying my face. "If you want," she said.
"I do."
Kira was quiet for a minute and then her voice came out softly. "I need to go see my father today."
I looked at her, her expression a mixture between sadness and something that looked like dejection. It took me aback—Kira's eyes were normally so filled with vibrancy. It was as if the idea of seeing her father sucked the radiance right from her body. I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what. I closed it again and, after a minute, mumbled simply, "Okay."
She looked at me as if she wanted to ask me something, but instead she just nodded, getting out of my truck when we pulled up in front of the house, and calling behind her that she'd see me in a couple days.
It should have made me happy. I'd have some peace around here for forty-eight hours. I wouldn't have to worry about an annoying witch romping all over my property, causing trouble and mayhem, making my blood churn with need. I should probably go into town and find a willing woman to sink into. God knew how sexually frustrated I was. Kira wouldn't know, or care by the sound of things. Just be discreet. I could do discreet. So why was my mind dwelling on the vague feeling of melancholy caused by Kira leaving town, instead of my own sexual need and what I could do to satisfy it? I shook off my thoughts and went to my office to put in the orders for supplies and equipment I'd had bookmarked for weeks now. A thrill of satisfaction shot through my gut. Everything was falling into place.
The dog padded into my office and lay down at my feet as I worked at the computer. Forty-five minutes later when I'd placed all the orders, I stood up and called the ugly mutt from where she still lay under my desk. "Here, Buddy." Nothing. She didn't even lift her head.
I considered her for a moment. She was a girl, so perhaps she just wanted a name more fitting for a female. "Here, Bailey." Not even a muscle twinge. I gritted my teeth. "Here, Sugie Sug," I said under my breath. The dog's ears perked up, she let out an excited squeak and stood quickly, taking the few steps to where I stood. I pressed my lips together and gave her a bitter glare. She panted up at me, and I swore that deformed mouth was smiling.
"All you women are enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked, turning toward the kitchen, the dog trotting after me.
Charlotte met me in the hall. "Kira's putting her suitcase in her car," she said. "You're not going with her?"
I glanced toward the door. "Why would I go with her?"
She shrugged. "I just thought it would make more sense for both of you to show up to tell her father you're married. Wouldn't that make it more convincing?" Obviously Kira had told Charlotte where she was going and why.
I frowned. "If she'd wanted me to go with her, she would have asked." I turned my attention to the dog. "Come here, Maggie." She sat looking at me. I sighed. "Come on, Sugie." The insufferable mongrel stood up to trot after me as we walked toward the kitchen. Charlotte laughed. "I’m sure this is very amusing for you," I said, glaring at her.
Charlotte smiled, beginning to take items out of the refrigerator. "I'm making Kira a sandwich to take on the road. Would you like one?"
"Sure," I said, sitting on a bar stool.
"As for this sweet girl," she said, smiling down at the dog who wagged her tail gleefully at Charlotte, "I imagine the first time Kira called her Sugie Sug, she said it with such adoring love, this dog couldn’t easily let it go now. I suspect it was the very first time she had heard a loving tone attached to herself in her short, sad life. That's a very powerful thing, you know."
I met Charlotte's wise eyes, considering her words, thinking about the fact that my wife had brought this dog home for me to try to heal something that had happened a long time ago. By the look of dread and sadness that had been in her eyes earlier, maybe Kira needed something from long ago healed as well. Perhaps we were husband and wife on paper only, but she had shown me undeserved kindness. No ulterior motive, simply because she could. Maybe she deserved the same. "Wrap both the sandwiches, Charlotte," I said. "I'm going with her."
Charlotte only smiled a knowing smile.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kira
I was setting my suitcase in the trunk of my car, when I saw Grayson emerging from the house with what looked like a small overnight case of his own and a plastic bag.
Closing the trunk, I stood watching him until he'd gotten to the car. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Coming with you," he replied, opening the trunk and removing my suitcase.
"Coming with me?" I sputtered. "But—"
He shut my trunk, turning toward me. "Kira, it will look more convincing if we both go to your father. We made this business arrangement together, and we should both be involved in what's necessary to make it work. Consider this me earning part of my share." He walked to his truck and put both my suitcase, and his small bag behind the seats.
"And why are you putting my suitcase into your truck?"
"Because I like to drive."
I threw up my hands, feeling suddenly trampled over. It felt far too familiar. "Part of your controlling dragon nature, I assume?"
"I suppose." He placed the small plastic bag full of what I assumed to be sandwiches from Charlotte into the small back seat and climbed behind the wheel. I opened the passenger side door, looking up at him, but not climbing in.
"You enjoy irritating me, don't you?"
He appeared to consider that. "It does hold a certain appeal." He glanced at me. "But this isn't about that."
"You don't have to feel obligated to do this," I said. Frankly, I hardly wanted Grayson to meet my father for the first time when I'd be telling him about our marriage. I could only imagine the frigid disdain he'd show not only me, but Grayson as well. And I had to wonder if Grayson's name would be familiar at all? I doubted it—my father only remembered those who could continue to serve his agenda in some way. Plus, what had happened had been quite a few years ago, and had transpired in a few brief moments. Still, I'd never pictured Grayson being in the room when I informed my father I'd gotten married without telling him in advance. Things could get ugly, and I didn't want anyone—most especially Grayson Hawthorn—to see it. Especially considering that I was pretty sure my father wouldn't strive to spare Grayson's feelings in any way, shape, or form. God, when had I begun to care so much about The Dragon's feelings?
It was really somewhat concerning.
"It's the appropriate way to handle this, Kira. Now, can we go? I don't want to hit any traffic in San Francisco."
"Who will take care of Sugie?" I asked, attempting one final argument.
"Charlotte. Virgil will help out, too. The dog seems to have taken a liking to him."
I huffed out one final breath, but then relented. Fine, he could come and see for himself exactly why I would rather marry him than take anything from my father in this life or any other. He would see . . . well, he would see exactly who I was. And that scared me. Why? And then it came to me—I wanted The Dragon to respect me. I didn't want him to see me as the spoiled heiress he'd obviously judged me to be that day in his office when he'd shown me such cold disdain. I didn't want him to see the grandeur of where I'd grown up and think that was any part of who I was or what I wanted out of life. I had married this man, and yet I'd never intended on letting Grayson Hawthorn into my private life, my private pain. I had set up this arrangement as a business venture. And now, suddenly, I realized, it was turning into more—for me at least. I cared. And that scared me.
And was probably very, very stupid.
Swallowing my own sudden confusion, I rolled down the window as we drove out the
gates, inhaling a breath of the air, still sweet with the scent of late summer.
"Where were you planning on staying?" Grayson asked once we'd turned onto the freeway.
"A hotel," I answered.
"Not with Kimberly?"
I shook my head. "Now that I have the money to stay at a decent hotel, I'd rather not impose on them. Their apartment is so small."
Grayson nodded. "She seems like a good friend."
"She is. She's the best." I smiled, leaning my head back on the seat. "We grew up together. Her mother came to work for us when we were both five. She's more like a sister, really. My mother had just died," I bit my lip, "a skiing accident, and well . . . Kimberly's mother, Rosa Maria, sort of took me under her wing for a time." I smiled, happy to turn my thoughts to anything other than confronting my father with my marriage. "Kimberly's birthday was a couple days after her mother started working there, and Rosa Maria threw a very small party for her and invited the kids of the others who worked for us. I was desperate to go, and begged my father to take me out to get her a present, but he’d said, 'You won't need to buy her a present because you won't be going. A Dallaire does not belong in such low company.'" I had deepened my voice to mimic my father's masculine tone and smiled over at Grayson. He had a small frown on his face and didn't smile back. "Well, as you might imagine," I flashed him another smile, sitting up straight, "I wasn't going to take that for an answer, so I took a necklace my mother had given me with a small heart on it and had our gardener, George, clip it in half. I put it on a string, snuck in to Kimberly's party, gave the makeshift necklace to her, and declared it meant we would be best friends for all eternity." My heart filled with warmth at the memory. "She still has it."
Grayson was silent, as he sucked at his lip, not looking at me. I stared ahead, feeling awkward, and after a few moments, I felt his eyes on the side of my face. "Are you still close to Rosa Maria?"
"No," I said sadly. "My father dismissed her years ago. It was awkward, and painful since he'd been having a relationship with her, and essentially traded her in for a newer, younger model to serve as both his new housekeeper and new bed partner. Rosa Maria didn't respond to any of my attempts to reach out to her after that." I waved my hand, trying to wave away the subject and the associated hurt that always came from discussing it.