‘You know you can get special slow dog bowls to stop them guzzling their food down.’
‘Really?’ Her fingers still wouldn’t work properly.
‘Yes. Just look them up on the internet. They work quite well.’ He put his glass down and gently removed the cellophane packet from her hand. ‘Here, let me.’
‘Thanks.’ She almost snatched the pasta from him when he was done. ‘I’m so going to get one for Tess.’
‘What sort of food do you give her?’
‘Vile horrible smelly biscuits.’ She nodded to the wooden pantry door. ‘They’re in there. You’ll smell them as soon as you open the door.’
‘Mind if I have a look?’
‘Be my guest.’ Him standing watching her was so unnerving.
The kettle had boiled and she filled a saucepan with the boiling water. As she took the bolognese sauce out of the fridge, she heard rustling from inside the cupboard. Devon was clearly taking this seriously. At last he came out, a non-committal look on his face which clearly suggested he had a view but was trying to be diplomatic about it.
‘What?’ she asked a touch defensively.
‘Nothing.’ His face took on a guileless expression which didn’t fool her one bit.
‘What? And don’t give me nothing. You’ve got that look on your face.’
‘What look.’
‘The “I’m trying not to be patronising here but . . . ”’
‘That’s a look?’
‘Yes, that’s a look. One that know-it-all vets use on unsuspecting completely-new-at-this-dog-owning-lark people.’ She put her hands on her hips to emphasise her point.
‘Sorry.’ His apologetic grimace made her feel slightly better. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, but you could do better. It’s quite a cheap brand and nutritionally OK but they’re using the cheapest ingredients, so the quality’s not that great. It’s fine, don’t get me wrong—’
‘But . . . ’
‘Tess would probably be better off with a dog food designed for bigger dogs.’
One more thing to feel guilty about, except this time it wasn’t her fault. ‘To be honest, I just carried on buying what she was already having.’ Who’d have realised that talking dog food could be so usefully distracting?
Ella looked out at Tess, who was still cavorting in the garden with Dexter. She looked much slimmer than she had a couple of weeks ago. ‘I guess she’d have voted with her feet if she wasn’t happy. She’s a lot fitter than when I got her.’
‘You’ve done wonders with her. The difference is quite incredible. Now, she’s glossy, bouncy and the picture of health.’ His gaze rested on her face, the expression on his face gentling.
Butterflies took flight, racing upwards, a fluttering sensation in her chest as he tilted his head to one side, his mouth twisting with suppressed amusement and that damned dimple appeared in his cheek.
Ella found it impossible to turn away, even though she had no idea where to look. Devon stepped forward, closing the gap between them, allowing a smile to curve his lips.
‘I wasn’t very nice to you that day. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did.’ The searing appraisal he gave her made her breath catch. ‘You’ve changed, too. You look . . . ’
‘Glossy? Bouncy? The picture of health?’ Ella couldn’t help filling in the words. Why couldn’t she just shut up?
‘All of those but . . . something else.’ He studied her face. The careful scrutiny, like a caress, making her heart leap in response. ‘Different. Content. Happy.’ His hand lifted and where his eyes had tracked, with each word he traced along her jawline.
She swallowed. Oh boy. Her heart bumped. Warmth bloomed in her chest.
‘You look like you.’
‘Me?’ She whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
