Page 20 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Their gazes met and held. “I believe you.”

Something wet and rough licked her bare toes. Angus’s tongue.

“Where’s Remy?” She peered into the living room. If Dayne’s giant German shepherd were there, she’d know it. That K-9 had the same undeniable presence that her handler did. Neither would ever be overlooked.

He tipped his head to the front door. “Out in the truck.”

“She can’t stay there all night. Bring her in.” She headed for the door, intending to open it, but Dayne got there first, blocking her path.

“No going outside tonight. Especially in”—his eyes dipped to her silk robe—“that.”

She pinched her lips, holding back the death stare she wanted to give him. Instead, she flung her hands in the air, resigned to the fact that she now had round-the-clock protection. “Fine.”

“She’s muddy,” he warned.

“There’s a hose on the side of the house.” She pointed in the general direction where one was attached to the exterior wall.

Dayne arched a dark brow. “Then she’ll be wet.”

“I have towels. Bring her in. My house, my rules.” Angus let loose with a sharp yip. “See? It’s unanimous.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She opened her mouth, readying to also insist that he never call her “ma’am,” when a corner of his mouth lifted, revealing a very nice set of white teeth. “We’ll be back.”

Leaving the puppy staring at the door, she went to one of the guest bedrooms on the main floor—the butler’s accommodations—and plucked two fluffy white towels from the bathroom shelf. She turned to inspect the bedroom. Dayne could stay here. He’d like it. With its dark wood paneling and black comforter on the four-poster bed, it was 100 percent alpha male. Just like him.

Back in the foyer, Angus had parked his furry little butt two inches from the door. She cracked it open, using her foot to keep Angus from darting outside.

“Shake,” Dayne commanded, and Remy shook. A few droplets hit Kat in the face, but she didn’t care. “Shake,” he ordered again, and again, Remy shook. “Good girl.”

“She shakes on command?”

He narrowed his eyes and his lips compressed into a tight line. “I told you to stay inside.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am inside.”

“You shouldn’t be standing on the threshold, exposed like that.” He and Remy pushed past her then he closed and locked the door behind them.

Well, maybe he had a point. As far as safety went, guess she’d be taking orders from him from now on.

Angus yipped, standing on his hind legs, trying to nip at Remy’s face. The big shepherd stood calmly, allowing Angus to burn off his excitement. “She has the patience of a saint,” Kat said.

“She does. I don’t.” Dayne nodded to the security keypad on the wall. “What’s your alarm code?”

“Four-two-six-five.” She set one of the towels on the foyer table, then using her good arm, began toweling off the K-9’s damp coat.

“The same code as the driveway gate?” His lips twisted into a disapproving frown. “They should be different codes.”

“It’s easier to remember only one code.” Ignoring the annoyance on his face, she continued drying Remy. “Remy, du bist wunderschon.”

The dog’s head bobbed, as if acknowledging Kat’s compliment at how beautiful she was.

“You speak German?” Dayne asked.

“Yes.” She ran the towel over Remy’s back and tail.

“Exactly how many languages do you speak?”

“Besides English, four. German, French, Italian, and Spanish. It helps me get through meetings I have every so often with our shareholders.”