Lillian laughed. “Like I said, you’re the most talented person I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks,” she said wryly. “Besides, I wouldn’t feel right about pawning him off on someone else, not when Ms. Kingsbury entrusted him to my care.” She gently pulled the dog off her leg and reached for her phone, her heart heavy with disappointment. “I might as well try to catch Dominick before he gets here.”
“Too late,” Lillian said, nodding to the front door.
Violet looked out the window to see a black stretch limo sitting next to the curb. Her eyebrows rose at the unexpected luxury, and she nursed another pang of regret. The back door opened and Dominick stepped out, unfolding his long body. He looked casual but polished in dark jeans, black T-shirt and black shoes with a rugged sole. His wraparound sunglasses were sophisticated and cool. Violet’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. She was almost glad now that she wasn’t going with him. The man was simply too sexy for words. He removed his sunglasses, then walked up to the front door and opened it, causing the bell to chime.
Winslow went berserk, jumping up and down and barking in staccato spurts, as if stricken by Tourette’s syndrome. Violet scooped him up to quiet him, murmuring soft words.
“Good morning,” Dominick said tentatively, as if he detected something was wrong.
“Good morning,” Lillian said brightly.
Violet stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Mr. Burns. I completely forgot that I promised a client I would keep her dog while she was out of town. I can’t go to Miami with you after all.”
He nodded to her suitcase. “But you’re already packed.”
“His owner just dropped him off. I was picking up the phone to call you.”
Dominick pulled on his chin and walked toward her, squinting at Winslow. “That thing is a dog, you say?”
Violet nodded, her defenses rising on behalf of the homely little pet.
“Can’t you kennel him?”
“No, sir. I gave my word I’d look after him.”
He shrugged. “So bring him along.”
Violet blinked. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m not sure if his carrier is the right size to allow me to take him onboard an aircraft as a carry-on bag.”
A little smile curved his mouth. “I assumed you knew that we’d be flying down in my private plane, Vee. There’s plenty of room.”
She wanted to thump herself on the forehead. Of course someone as wealthy as Dominick Burns didn’t have to resort to anything as pedestrian as flying commercial. Still, she shook her head. “I don’t think his owner would appreciate me taking him on a trip.”
“Ms. Kingsbury wouldn’t care,” Lillian exclaimed, giving Violet a meaningful look. “I heard her say myself that she trusted your judgment implicitly. You’ll still be looking after him, just in Miami instead of here. Besides, you’ll be back before she returns.”
Violet wavered. She wanted to go, but she’d never forgive herself if something happened to Winslow. “I’d have to be with him most of the time,” she said to Dominick. “It might compromise the hours I can work for you.”
“We’ll work it out,” Dominick said amiably. “If I remember correctly, the place where we’re staying even has a doggie spa. And no offense, but he looks like he could use a beauty treatment or two.”
She bit her lip. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I like dogs.” He reached forward to pet Winslow, but the Pekingese growled, then snapped at his hand.
“Winslow!” Violet admonished. “No!” She looked up at Dominick with a wince. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen him snap at anyone. It must be all the excitement.”
Dominick looked unconvinced. “Uh-huh. I’ll get your bags, you bring the pooch.”
She set down the dog and coaxed him into his carrier. Then she shouldered the bag holding Winslow’s food and chew toys, picked up the carrier and headed toward the door that Dominick held open.
“Have fun,” Lillian said. When Violet gave her a pointed look, the woman added, “And get a lot of business…transacted.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Violet said in her most professional voice. “I’ll be available twenty-four-seven.”
“Not planning to sleep while we’re there, Vee?” Dominick murmured as she swept by.
She tripped, but he reached out to steady her before she and the dog both went down on the sidewalk.
“Easy,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. “You won’t be any good to me in a body cast.”
The rough timbre of his voice skated across her nerve endings, stirring up all kinds of possibilities for the days ahead. When he opened the rear door to the limo, Violet hesitated, feeling oddly like Alice in Wonderland, contemplating whether to go down the rabbit hole.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Dominick asked.
She looked up, expecting to find a teasing expression on his handsome face. Instead, she was startled to see that his deep blue eyes were serious. “I want you to feel good about this, Vee,” he said quietly. “But I promise to do my best to make sure you won’t regret accepting my invitation.”
She almost preferred the teasing Dominick to this more sober version who caused her midsection to warm and her breasts to tighten. Then her jaw loosened. Was that…desire reflected in his eyes? No. It had to be a trick of the winter light.
“Are you ready?” he murmured.
A shiver traveled up her spine. No more standing back and peeking into the exciting, sensual life she might have had if she’d been more daring.
“I’m ready,” Violet said. Then she took a deep breath and climbed inside.
6
“I’VE NEVER BEEN on a private plane before,” Violet said as they walked out onto the tarmac at the Fulton County Airport—known as Charlie Brown Airport to locals. Her heart was already racing at the prospect of hurtling through the sky in such a small aircraft.
Dominick grinned. “It’s great. You get an entire can of soda.”
She blushed under his gaze. He was enjoying the fact that he could introduce her to a new experience, and despite her fear of heights, she was determined to take it all in.
He handed their bags to a member of the ground crew who stood next to the open cargo compartment, then led Violet to the short set of steps leading up to the cabin. He reached for the dog carrier, but Winslow growled in opposition.
“It’s not heavy,” Violet assured him and proceeded to carry it up the steps, carefully balancing herself with the hand rail. Her nerves jangled like metal chimes as she stepped inside.
The plane had the smell equivalent to “new car,” and indeed, looked as if it had just rolled off the showroom floor. The cabin was equipped with two rows of three seats facing each other, upholstered in gray leather. The spongy carpet was also deep charcoal-gray. A television was mounted over a counter that contained a sink. In the cabinetry underneath, a glass door revealed barware and snacks. A small refrigerator filled the remaining space. Racks on the sides of the cabinet held books and magazines. Every convenience for a comfortable trip had been provided, including a lavatory in the rear of the cabin.
“It’s lovely,” she murmured to Dominick. In truth, she was reeling at this glimpse into his wealthy lifestyle. She’d never seen his home, but could only wonder at the size.
He beamed. “I’m glad you like it.”
The pilot emerged from the cockpit to greet them. The men were obviously well-acquainted and traded some flying-speak in terms of conditions and flight plans. When the pilot returned to the cockpit and Dominick turned to her, Violet felt awkward and jittery. “Is there someplace in particular we should sit?”
“Anywhere you like. You get a great view from the window seats.”
“Thanks, but I prefer the aisle.” She set her briefcase and Winslow’s carrier on the floor and perched on the edge of the seat, gripping her knees.
His eyebrows arched. “Does flying make you nervous?”
“A little,” she admitted, although not quite as nervous as Dominick made her feel with his casual confidence, his rugged good looks and his irresistible charm.
“I know just the thing to help you relax—love in an elevator.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
His laugh rumbled out as he strolled to the bar. “It’s a drink—Love in an Elevator. Ginger ale to settle your stomach.” He winked. “Plus some gin and green Curacao liqueur to make it exciting.”
“It’s a little early in the day for me to drink,” she protested.
“You’re on vacation,” he said, removing bottles and two glasses from the bar.
A little thrill curled up in her stomach. “I thought this was business,” she reminded him.
“It’s both.” He mixed two drinks, then carried one back to her. “Humor me. I don’t normally get to enjoy a drink when I fly.”
“Why not?” she asked, taking the proffered glass containing a pale green liquid the color of the Caribbean water she’d seen in pictures.
Dominick lowered himself into the seat next to hers. “Because I’m usually either at the controls, or jumping out.” He clinked his glass to hers. “Cheers.”