Bending to the Bachelor's Will. Emilie Rose

other sports should I avoid if I want to escape total humiliation at your hands?” Her chuckle washed over him like a warm summer breeze, and her scent tantalized him in the close confines of the car.

      He needed to buy her a bottle of perfume. Smelling an expensive concoction worn by thousands of women would be easier than knowing the alluring scent filling his lungs was uniquely Holly’s. He cranked up the air-conditioning.

      “Just be glad Octavia wasn’t there to witness your loss or she’d have eviscerated you in her Saturday column. She has a thing about dominating men. But your secret’s safe with me.”

      Holly had evaded his question by bringing up a larger issue. He let her get away with redirecting the conversation to focus on the gauntlet ahead. How could he escape kissing her again? Not just tonight, but each of the next nine dates? “Do you think she’ll be waiting at your house tonight?”

      Holly flashed him a guilty glance. “I didn’t tell her about the date.”

      Satisfied that he could end the date without a casualty, he nodded. “Neither did I.”

      “According to the auction’s fine print—which I finally read this afternoon—we’re supposed to tell her about each date ahead of time so she can observe if she wants.”

      “She saw the end of our last date.” The memory of Holly’s kisses brought a flash fire of heat. “We’ll tell her next time.”

      By then he’d have devised a few evasive techniques. He turned down Holly’s driveway. A canine chorus shattered the silence. “Something wrong?”

      “Probably just a raccoon or a possum sniffing around the barn for food, or maybe just the sound of a strange car, but I always check the kennels before going to bed, so soon I’ll know.”

      “You check them alone?”

      “What? You think I need a bodyguard to protect me from the boogeyman?”

      She lived in a rural, sparsely populated area, and while her yard might be well-lit, there was no telling what or who could hide in the shadows of her outbuildings. And why did he care? Holly wasn’t his concern. “I’ll walk with you.”

      “That’s really not necessary, but c’mon if you insist. You might decide to take someone home with you tonight.”

      His gaze jerked toward hers. “Pardon?”

      “A four-legged someone,” she clarified. “I have a Shepherd mix that would be perfect for you. He’s picky about his food and full of himself, too.”

      The comment shouldn’t have surprised him. Holly had needled him subtly, but consistently throughout the evening, like an adversary trying to pull an opponent’s head out of the game. Why did he tolerate it? He didn’t have an answer, but he suspected it had something to do with enjoying a woman who didn’t agree with everything he said. Dating a woman who dared to challenge his opinions was a novel experience. Money, he’d discovered, not only brought power, it bought people. But not Holly.

      He followed her to the barn. She flicked on the lights and he stopped in surprise. He’d expected to see wooden stalls as weathered as the exterior, but instead the structure had been gutted. A concrete floor stretched from end to end, and a half-dozen spacious chain-link kennels lined either side of the wide aisle. Each cage held at least one dog and a plush bed for each mutt. The closest held a lab-type bitch and her pups. “These are all strays?”

      “Yes. It’s disheartening how some people can discard a loved one when she no longer suits them.”

      She? Eric’s gaze sought Holly’s face, but she’d turned away. She was talking about the animals, wasn’t she?

      She walked along the aisle dispensing dog treats and chatting with each occupant for a moment before pulling a lever that opened exterior doors to the dog runs surrounding the barn. Apparently, each kennel had a private run.

      “Your renovations must have been expensive, and upkeep must be costly.”

      Her gaze hit his and her cinnamon eyebrows arched, disappearing beneath shaggy bangs. “Why do you think I agreed to buy you? You promised money for my family. Thanks for the check, by the way.”

      He’d given her the check the moment he’d arrived this evening, leaving no chance for another oversight.

      But what did she mean by referring to these mutts as her family? Her family owned the most prestigious country club on the east coast, complete with a marina and an award-winning golf course. “You’re welcome.”

      “See anyone you want to take home? They’ve had all their shots and been neutered except for Cleo. She can’t be spayed until the pups are weaned in a few weeks.”

      “I don’t have time for a dog.”

      Holly stepped into the bitch’s cage and lifted a fat black puppy. “How can you resist an adorable face like this one?”

      The dog’s face didn’t interest him half as much as Holly’s as she nuzzled the squirmy ball of fur. There was an overwhelming sense of satisfaction in her eyes and a softness in her features he hadn’t seen before, as if she’d finally let her prickly guard down. “You enjoy caring for these mutts.”

      She looked up at him through copper-tipped lashes. “Everybody needs love.”

      She shoved the pup into his arms. He stiffened. “I don’t think—”

      “A dog would help you unwind, Eric.”

      He held the mutt and made a mental note to take the suit to the cleaners tomorrow. A long pink tongue swiped his chin. Yuck. “I don’t need to unwind.”

      She snorted. “This from the guy who had a white-knuckled grip on his putter. Give me a break, Alden. You’re as tightly strung as a clothesline.”

      He’d never owned a dog or even a fish. His mother hadn’t allowed pets of any kind in her professionally decorated home. But he had to admit holding the warm, wiggly creature wasn’t entirely unpleasant—if the mutt would quit trying to French-kiss him.

      Holly grinned, took the pup back and returned him to his pen. She lavished attention on each of the remaining littermates before letting herself out of the kennel.

      “Okay, if I can’t convince you to take a friend home, then I guess we’re done here.”

      “We could post bulletin boards in the bank branches showing the dogs you have for adoption.” What in the hell was he saying? Banking was business. There was no room in his bank or his life for sloppy sentiment and that’s what these castoff mutts evoked.

      Holly’s eyes widened in surprise. “That would be great, but I have a feeling your mother will veto that idea.”

      That lifted his hackles. Margaret Alden ran the banking chain with an iron fist, but on this he would not bend. He’d never let his mother dominate him the way she did his father. Holly wanted to find homes for her menagerie and he had the power to help her.

      “It’s a public service and good community relations. She’ll agree.” He’d make damned sure of it.

      And before he did something else stupid like kiss that wide smile off Holly’s unpainted lips, Eric turned on his heel and headed for his car. Holly had him using sentiment instead of sense, and that was a dangerous practice he had no intention of continuing.

      Entering Alden Bank and Trust as a customer was one thing. Showing up at the main branch on Friday morning and demanding to see the VP without an appointment was another.

      Holly felt the curious gazes of countless bank employees like glass slivers in her back as she climbed the wide marble staircase leading from the main floor to the offices on the second-floor balcony. The weight of those stares added ten pounds to the load she carried.

      Her heart thumped harder. Why did being here make her nervous? She’d grown up in affluent circles