A pen has been set up in the centre of the room, where a small golden rust puppy is busy fighting with a rope toy.
“Granny!” Lottie says, letting go of her grandmother’s arm and running forward. She turns to face her.
Franny grins. “Get in. She needs some attention, someone to play with.”
Elijah looks at his mum in amazement. “A puppy. Really?”
Franny shrugs. “Well, I’m here all alone, apart from an army of staff. I decided I quite fancied some company. My grandchildren will all love a puppy, so it’s the perfect way to blackmail you all into spending more time here.”
I chuckle at her logic, and Franny shoots me a wink.
“What is she called?” I say, moving towards the pen.
“Well, I thought Lottie might like to help name her. Callum is a little young yet.”
Lottie, is already on her knees, cuddling the furry pup.
“She’s a Vizsla,” Franny says. “One of our neighbours’ bitches had a litter and was looking to home the last one.”
As if this explains everything.
I can sense Elijah’s disbelief at his mother. I know she always refused to let them have dogs growing up.
“Do the others know?” Elijah asks.
“No, I thought I’d surprise them,” Franny says, and there’s no missing the mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Well, it will definitely be a surprise,” Elijah says drily.
I link my arm through his and give it a squeeze, earning myself a sexy smile.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s leave Lottie and your mum to decide on a name.”
I take Elijah’s hand and lead him from the room.
We make our way upstairs and to our bedrooms.
“I can’t believe she’s got a dog. No strike that a puppy!”
I laugh and pull him around to face me.
“A puppy, Lottie’s not going to be able to drag herself away from for quite a while.”
I watch as dawning crosses his features, his hands going to my hips, pulling me against him.
My hands slide up his chest and around his neck, my fingers playing with the short hair at his nape.
“You make a very good point, Ms Dawson,” he says, a slow smile gracing his lips as they descend towards mine.
He licks along the seam of my mouth, making me groan. It’s been too long.
“I’ve missed you,” he tells me, deepening our kiss, his hands travelling up into my hair and angling my mouth, his tongue tangling with mine.
He walks us backwards towards the door, his hand twisting the lock, sealing us in.
I smile at the move.
“Does this mean you’re hoping to have your wicked way with me?” I ask cheekily.
