The Billionaire's Matchmaker(72)

Stupid thing was that a part of her kept hoping he’d call or come by. Anything. Nick, not Charlie. She really hadn’t learned a thing, had she? One kiss and here she was hung up on the guy.

“My guess is she’s getting near delivery time,” Gideon was saying. “Keep an eye on her, and if she’s been in labor for more than twenty-four hours without a pup or if she starts vomiting or releasing a discharge, give me a call. Have Mia track me down if you can’t reach me.”

Jenny smiled at the last part. “Thanks, Gideon. I appreciate the personal service.”

“A friend of Mia’s is a friend of mine, you know that.” He disappeared while whispers sounded on the other side of the phone. A second later, Mia popped on the line. “Hey Jenny, don’t forget margaritas and karaoke tomorrow night. I’m making Gideon join me on ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’.”

“Can’t wait.” Jenny hoped her enthusiasm sounded real. She loved her friends more than anything. but she wasn’t looking forward to playing seventh wheel at the moment. Just thinking about it left her with a lonely, heavy feeling.

“Great. Hold on, Gideon needs you again.”

The vet’s deep voice returned. “I forgot to mention about your bill…”


“Gid!” Mia could be heard admonishing him in the distance.

“It’s not what you think,” he shot back. Returning to Jenny, he continued, “I meant to say something at your appointment the other day but forgot. Bonaparte called and said to send the bills to him. Said it was the least he could do. Then he made an appointment to have Charlie fixed. Turns out I was wrong about him ignoring my suggestion—he thought the dog had been neutered a long time ago.”

Nick had led her to believe he simply didn’t care but once again, she discovered that when it came to Nick Bonaparte, the story wasn’t as it first appeared. He seemed determined to be viewed as cold and callous when, in fact, those two words couldn’t be further from the truth. Another way to keep people at a distance. If only the opposite were true; if only he were a cold-hearted bastard. Every sympathetic facet she saw in him made her miss him a little more.

She thanked Gideon for the information and hung up, feeling more alone than ever.

Was she being overly dramatic, refusing to have anything to do with him? Six days and she could still remember his touch on her skin. If she licked her lips, she could almost taste his kiss. Worse was the nagging whisper in the back of her mind telling her this time might be the real thing.

Then Jenny remembered all the times growing up she’d listened to that same whisper, only to find herself tossed aside in favor of someone better, and those had been men nowhere near Nick’s class.

Lulu heaved a squeaky sigh and stretched her chin on the sofa. If she intended the move to make Jenny feel guilty, it worked. “Sorry you got caught in the middle, girl,” she said, patting the dog’s swollen belly. “Looks like we’re both paying the price for meeting the Bonaparte men. We’ll get over them eventually though, and things will be fine. We’ll be fine. I promise.”

The last words weren’t louder than a whisper. That was all right. Jenny meant them for herself anyway. Lulu gave another whimper and went to sleep.

“We’ll be fine,” Jenny whispered again.

…

The next morning was Saturday, her day off. Jenny slept in. When she woke, Lulu wasn’t on the sofa. She wasn’t on Jenny’s bed, the overstuffed easy chair, or any of her other haunts. Nor was she using the whelping bed. Jenny tore the house apart trying to find the animal—looking in closets, under beds—but Lulu was nowhere to be found. A walk into the kitchen confirmed her worst nightmare. The back door had blown open during the night. In her distracted state, Jenny had forgotten to shut it tightly. Again. Idiot.

Ignoring the growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, she headed into the backyard, calling Lulu’s name and hoping the dog was simply relieving herself in the bushes. She wasn’t. The bushes, the garage, and every potential birthing location were untouched.

Jenny felt sick. She’d done enough research to know pregnant dogs sometimes dragged themselves off somewhere to give birth. Fine if you were talking summer, but it was October and the weather reports were forecasting a killer frost as well as possible snow flurries. She could already feel the cold blowing off the lakes. Even if Lulu did manage to find a sheltered location for her puppies, there was no telling if the little ones would survive the cold. And what if there were complications?

She knew something wasn’t right last night. Who cared if dogs had been giving birth for a million years; her dog hadn’t. And why hadn’t she double-checked the doorway? Now Lulu was God knows where, alone, pregnant, and missing her mate.

Charlie. Jenny tugged her cardigan tighter. Wasn’t possible, was it? She’d just finished worrying the dog wasn’t bright enough to protect her puppies from the cold and now she was wondering if Lulu went searching for the puppies’ father? How would the spaniel know which way to go?

Again, Charlie. The terrier had been in the process of taking her to his house when she found him last week. The night she kissed Nick.

Oh God, she so wasn’t ready to talk with him yet. She needed time to shake free of whatever spell he had over her.

On the other hand, if Lulu had dragged her pregnant self to his house, or wandered some place with Charlie, she needed to know.