“Slow down, sweetie,” Danielle murmured, reaching out to stroke her massive head.

When the dog had finally freed herself, she leaned against Danielle, who staggered under the weight before bracing her legs farther apart.

Sadie rubbed her head against Danielle’s belly, making Danielle smile at Nick sadly. “She loves me.”

“I can see that.” For a moment, a very brief moment, he wondered what it was like to be the object of such deep love and devotion. But then he imagined how much the dog must eat a day-and excrete-and shuddered.

He was not a dog owner and was quite satisfied with that.

Danielle patted Sadie’s head. Her own hair was a mess, and she had a crease across one cheek where she’d lain her head on a teddy bear but as she leveled that somber smile on Nick, his heart simply stopped.

Then her smile slowly faded. “I stole Sadie. I co-owned her with a man. My boyfriend.”

Nick didn’t know which was more disturbing. The fact he’d lied to the police over a damn dog or that Danielle had a boyfriend.

Not that he should care one way or another. He had his own life, a good one. He even had hot dates lined up. Dates that wouldn’t require thinking, wondering, dreaming or yearning.

Given that Danielle required all of that and more, he ought to show her the front door.

“When we broke up,” she said, “Ted wanted Sadie.”

They’d broken up.

“She’s worth money,” Danielle admitted. “But for Ted, it’s all about the glory. She’s a champion, and her bloodlines are incredible. He expected me to breed her, handle her descendants.”

Nick shook his head. “This is a custody battle.” He couldn’t believe it. “Over a dog?”

“It’s more than that, Nick.”

“Obviously, or the cops wouldn’t be out looking for you. So what did you do, steal her from him in the middle of the night? Did you also accidentally steal his cash and silver, too?”

Her eyes flashed. “I took Sadie and only Sadie. But I had a good reason.”

This was bad. He’d gotten in the middle of some silly dog dispute. And why? Because he remembered her fondly from one night well over a decade before. Because he was an idiot. “So Ted saw her as investment property and you see her as your first-born?”

“Worse.” She looked as if she didn’t have a friend in the world. She look as if she might cry at any second, and Nick let out a long breath, a complete sucker for a female in distress.

For this female in distress. He had no idea why just their brief, all-too-long-ago connection should still matter as much as it did. “I’m sorry,” he said over his better sense, but she looked troubled, alone, and damn it, scared. No way could he turn from that. “Tell me the rest.”

“I broke up with Ted when I could no longer ignore his possessiveness.”

There was a note in her voice that got his full attention now. Sadie was sitting on her haunches at Danielle’s feet, twin strands of drool coming from either side of her open mouth. She was panting, her tongue hanging out, watching Danielle with hero worship. Danielle put her hand on the dog’s wide head and sighed. “It got ugly, and I discovered something else about him.”

“He had a temper,” Nick guessed, feeling sick.

When she slowly nodded her head, he stepped close, very gently putting a hand on her arm. “Danielle-”

“It started when Sadie lost a dog show. It was so hot that day, and quite frankly, she just got bored. Ted really wanted to win that one because his biggest competition was there watching, but yelling at her wasn’t the answer. And then afterward Sadie limped, like her hip was bothering her. She was really skittish.” She looked down at Sadie with defeat. “I think he kicked her.”

“You think? Or you know?”

“I just know.” Her voice wavered. “And then a week later she wouldn’t get into her crate when he wanted and I caught him at it. I saw him kick her.”

Nick looked into Sadie’s dark, doggie eyes and tried to imagine anyone kicking a dog that came up to his hips and nearly outweighed him. Not that it mattered. Nick happened to hate violence with a passion, especially against the innocent, and as big as Sadie was, she was an innocent. In as calm a voice as he could manage, he asked, “And you? Were you being abused, too?”

She straightened. “He wouldn’t dare.”

Sounded like he dared, all right. It was more like the guy had never gotten the chance. Damn it, why him? Why here and now, with a woman he didn’t seem to be able to turn his back on? With a woman he appeared to be more than willing to save yet again?

Ah, hell, who was he kidding. He couldn’t have turned his back on anyone. That it was Danielle made it only worse.

“You can see why I can’t let her get taken back, right?” Danielle asked, determination in every line of her tense body. “I just can’t.”

“Okay.” He shoved his fingers in his hair and tried to think. “Can you prove Sadie is yours?” She just bit her lower lip, making him groan. “You can’t. Which is why you’re on the run with her.”

“I can prove we shared ownership, yes, but that’s not good enough. They might make me share her, and I can’t let that happen. I paid for half of her when she was a puppy, but that’s not so easy to prove, it turns out, as there was some comingling of funds along the way between various vet bills and food and things.” Bending down she hugged Sadie tight, and in return, the dog licked her ear.

Then Danielle looked up at Nick with those huge, huge eyes. “All I need are the professional shots of Sadie to give to an art director I know. He’s going to get me some commercial endorsements.”

“Which equals money.”

“Yes.”

“And you need the money to…”

“Vanish.” She pressed her face into Sadie’s neck. “Ted drained my bank account. With an ATM card I gave him.”

He stared at her, saw her pain and humiliation, and bit back his oath. “What about your family? Can’t they help you?”

“It’s just my mother. We’re…not very close. Besides, she doesn’t have any extra money.”

“I see.” And damn it, now he did. She was truly alone in this. She was going to take her dog and walk right out of his life.

He should let her.

But he didn’t want her to go. Didn’t want to lie awake for the next fifteen years still wondering what if…

5

“WELL.” Danielle put on a smile that might have wobbled just a bit before she forced it, and reached for Sadie’s leash. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

Nick was standing close, too close, looking edgy and more than a little unnerving because of it.

What did he want?

He’d let her in. He’d taken the pictures he hadn’t wanted to. He’d put up with the nervous Sadie when he didn’t know or understand dogs.

And he’d lied to the police.

That alone would have made her grateful forever, but now she owed him, and she hated that. Combined with all the memories from so long ago, with her silence over her friends’ behavior, with the way he’d saved her that night as he had today, she felt unsteady. Nervous. Over the years, Nick had become the chance she had never-but should have-taken.

Now, on top of it, he’d touched some personal part of her she’d promised no man could ever touch again. “Thank you,” she said, knowing it wasn’t enough.

His sharp green eyes narrowed, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That sounds like goodbye.”

“Do you suppose I could take the film you shot of Sadie? I’ll pay you for it, and then have it developed myself.”

“Where?”

“I’ll take it to one of those one-hour places.”

He winced.

“Oh, don’t be a photo lab snob now,” she said, trying not to notice how her body liked being close to his, how it leaned even closer, making her stomach tickle. How his hands were shoved low in his front pockets, drawing her attention to- “I really need to go,” she said abruptly.

“Yeah.” His hands came out of his pockets to touch her arms. He stroked them up and down the limbs she hadn’t realized were chilled from stress and worry. And in spite of herself, she let out a little shiver that had nothing to do with being cold.

At the involuntary movement, he went still, very still, as if he felt it, too, that inexplicable connection from his flesh against hers.

An odd sound escaped her, one that sounded horrifyingly like…need, so she bit her lip to keep quiet.

In return, he let out a rough groan. “Do you remember that night, Danielle? The dance?”

She closed her eyes, her heart squeezing as the years fell away in her mind. “I remember.” It played across the backs of her eyes with startling clarity. “Prom.”

“You looked beautiful.”

“I was with Adam Bennett.”

“Star of the football team.” His voice hardened. “First-class asshole.”

Danielle opened her eyes, but the images were still there. “He took off, leaving me in the parking lot because I…um, didn’t want to…”

“Yeah.” Nick’s eyes held so much, she could hardly look at him. “I gave you a ride home.”

She’d stared out the passenger window of his car, wondering if all men were jerks. “You never said a word, didn’t tell me how stupid I’d been to go with him, about how my friends treated you, nothing.” She marveled at that all over again. “You just drove me home, to the trailer park I didn’t want you to see, walked me to the door, and…”

A ghost of a smile crossed his mouth. “That and gave me great dreams for years.”

He was staring at her mouth, making her stomach fizzle again. “It was just a kiss,” she said.

“Hmm.” His lips curved into a full smile now. “Some ‘just a kiss.’ You should know, I’ve never forgotten it.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. It hadn’t been like her other experiences. He hadn’t shoved his tongue down her throat or his hands up her shirt.