Love Chronicles. Lissa Manley

Sunny’s book.

      Connor looked up and smiled. “He’s just a big baby, isn’t he?”

      She nodded, chuckling despite her negative mood. “You’ve got that right. He’s huge, but doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. Right, Rufus?”

      Rufus didn’t acknowledge her, just lay there, his legs splayed, soaking up his first tummy rub of the day. Connor undoubtedly had no idea that he’d made a friend for life. Rufus wasn’t nearly picky enough about whom he associated with.

      A long silence stretched out, and Sunny’s curiosity got the best of her. “So, why are you here? You made it pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. Need another glass of juice spilled on you?”

      Connor rose and ran a hand through his hair. He moved toward her, what looked like forced contrition showing in his eyes. “Sorry about what I said. I don’t always express myself very well.”

      She hoisted up a brow. “Oh, I think you got your point across pretty well.”

      He sat down next to her and his soapy, male scent washed over her, raising her awareness level a notch.

      “My whole family tells me I’m tactless,” he said, seemingly without regret. “I prefer to call it being refreshingly direct.”

      She pulled in her chin and said, “Refreshing?” She laughed under her breath and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. That’s a good one.”

      “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

      “Okay,” she said, taking him up on his offer even though she was sure he wasn’t really interested in her feelings. “Actually, I’d like to stomp on your head. You’ve ruined my plans.” She took the ball from Rufus and hurled it across the grass. “I was sitting here trying to figure out how to change such a stubborn, grouchy man’s mind.”

      “Don’t hold back, now.”

      She stared at him. “Trust me. I won’t.”

      “I can see that,” he said dryly. “Actually, grumpiness aside, you have a good plan, trying to change my mind. Very practical.”

      “And are you always practical, Dr. Forbes? You strike me as the type who tries to be sensible at all times.” Sensible and totally repressed: boy, did he need to loosen up.

      “I try to be.” He angled his body toward her and rested his left elbow on the back of the bench, bringing himself slightly closer. He pierced her with his eyes. “Is that bad?”

      She shifted on the hard bench again and fiddled with the ends of her hair, uneasy with his nearness and how aware she was of his heat and scent. What was wrong with her, letting his physical appeal get to her? She didn’t even like the man. “Uh, well, not always, although sometimes it’s better to go with your gut instincts rather than what’s practical. A person’s inner voice is important, don’t you think?”

      He inclined his head. “I guess. It’s been proven that instincts have helped man survive for thousands of years.”

      She wanted to snort. Of course, he’d twisted her beliefs around so that they reeked of scientific fact rather than what he simply knew, deep down inside. He was obviously so out of touch with himself.

      Ignoring how much she’d like to help him with that particular problem—boy, would she like to get a hold of his broad, well-muscled shoulders and work all of his tense, uptightness right out of his body—she focused instead on the question that was still gnawing at her.

      “So, why did you come find me?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “I figured our business was finished.”

      Rufus ran up, flopped down next to Connor and gazed up adoringly at him. Connor obliged and patted his head. “I’ve reconsidered.” He turned and held out his hand, his eyes boring into hers. “How about you shake hands with your new partner?”

      Sunny widened her eyes, taken totally off guard by his unexpected offer. She automatically put her hand in his warm grip, liking the way his large hand engulfed hers. “You’ve changed your mind?” she asked, doubt spilling over. She quickly pulled free of his compelling touch to stay in control.

      He nodded and then quickly looked away, his gaze focused across the park. “I guess I have.”

      His inability to meet her eyes set off alarms in her head. “Why?”

      “Change of heart,” he said, casually—too casually—lifting one broad shoulder.

      She stared at him, her reliable intuition kicking into gear. She frowned slightly. “Really? An hour ago you were very clear about what you thought about partnering with me, and it wasn’t good.” She narrowed her gaze. “What’s going on?”

      He shook his head. “I guess I can’t fool you.” He inclined his head. “All right, I’ll come clean. My dad changed my mind.”

      She gave a humorless laugh, doing a bad job of covering up the ache building inside of her. “Ah, I should have known your change of heart was really just your father forcing you to honor the deal.” She pressed her lips together and glared at him. “So what did he offer you to cooperate?”

      “He offered to come out of retirement part-time.”

      She pulled her brows together. “Okay. But how does that help you, except for cutting down on your work load?”

      “I want to get into medical research. That’ll be easier to do if he’s helping me out. He also offered a trial period. Of three months.”

      She glared at him. “The heart of the matter at last. You’re probably thinking you’ll just bide your time for three months, then get rid of me, right?”

      His stony silence gave her the answer.

      With anger building in her—she felt like stomping on his head again—she quickly rose and began pacing before he could reply. “So you’re only doing this because of your dad’s offer rather than because of some newfound respect for what I do, right?”

      He shrugged. “Hey, I have an agenda, just like you do. This will help me achieve it.”

      Well, she had to give him credit for being honest, but that was as generous as she’d be. His attitude cut deep. Her wounded pride reared up, along with a healthy dose of her usual idealism. Partnering with a man with no respect for her methods would be wrong—and counterproductive. She’d be working under a cloud of contempt that would surely overwhelm her eventually. No, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—work under those uncertain, pride-shredding circumstances, no matter how desperate she was to finally settle into a successful career.

      She stared at him. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. You have no respect for what I do, no appreciation for any medical treatment not based in your kind of science. You only want to use me to help you further your own goals. I don’t think you’re the partner I’m looking for.” She picked up Rufus’s leash and hooked it to his collar, then gave a stunned-looking Connor a sweet, totally fake smile. “Goodbye.”

      Connor stood and put a hand on her arm. “Sunny, wait—”

      Rufus’s hysterical barking cut him off. Before Sunny could react, Rufus started running in circles while he barked at a squirrel running up the trunk of a nearby tree. His leash wrapped around Connor’s legs and then Sunny’s, round and round, pulling them closer and closer together.

      “Rufus, stop!” she hollered. But it was too late to get the leash off her wrist and Rufus was too strong and too rambunctious. She and Connor were quickly bound together by the tangled leash, his big body pressed intimately up against hers.

      Rufus quit barking and the leash went slack. The silly dog whined, looking everywhere for that darn squirrel.

      Doing nothing to extricate himself, Connor looked down at Sunny, his darkening gaze zeroing in on her, and said, “Your dog needs a firmer hand.”