Aunt Delilah scanned the room. “Where is he?”
“To whom are you referring?” fumed Ceci.
Aunt Delilah heaved a heavy sigh as she flopped into the oversized armchair by the sofa. “Is that really how you want to play it, dear? We both know whom we’re talking about. The raging lion. What does a dame need to do around here to get a drink?”
It wasn’t even noon yet.
Pixel stood up. “Martini suit you, Aunt Delulu?”
“That will suit me just fine, dear. Just make sure it’s extra, extra, extra dry. Just the teensiest, tiniest drop of vermouth.”
“In other words, bring her a glass of gin,” said Ceci.
Just then the doorbell rang.
Pixel looked at her phone. “On time, to the second.”
Holding Boudica, Ceci marched to the front door.
She threw her shoulders back, lifted her chin, put on her beaming smile, and prepared to take enormous pleasure out of Sir Stick’s dismay when he saw both what she was wearing and what she was holding.
But when she opened the door, her smile disappeared.
What the fleeking fuck?
Sir Clarke stood before her dressed casually in jeans, a sweater, and a parka. But it was what he held in his arms that had her staring in disbelief. Not a dozen long-stemmed red roses, but a dog—a dainty and delicate brindle whippet.
Chapter Nine
Clarke
Clarke had just turned off his cell and thrown it in his pocket after receiving another text from Roxanne when the door swung open. He had a pretty good idea what the text would contain—more advice on what he should and should not do on this date. She’d already sent him three such texts. Her advice was aimed at getting good press. But he preferred no press at all. She had no idea he’d come to Montana to avoid that very thing.
Ceci was standing before him, but all he could see were her eyes. He hadn’t imagined it. There was some gray there. Sure, they sparkled, but there was depth there too.
Depth and Ceci Rivers seemed like an oxymoron.
And yet there was no denying it, he thought as he peered at them.
It’s like looking at the horizon, the more I look the further my eye goes and keeps on going.
Grrr.
He blinked.
Did she just growl?
His eyes shifted and he suddenly noticed the bulldog in her arms. But almost immediately after, he noticed something else. He told himself to look away. But his eyes seemed to be operating independently of his brain.
And all his brain could manage was …
North Star. North Star. North Star.
Where the fuck is the North Star? It’s north. Where is north?
Up. Just look up.
But he couldn’t get his eyes to look. Up.
