Cover Me. Stephanie Bond

involuntarily glanced toward my purse, then back.

      He followed my glance. “So you took that, too.”

      I squirmed. “It was my birthday present, after all.”

      “I suppose you’re right.” He picked up my favorite pen lying on my desk and studied it with little-boy fascination. “And did it turn out…accurately?”

      I bit the inside of my cheek to suppress my smile. Samuel Long, Cornell grad, veterinarian and bona fide hero, was still a man. “I’d say that it is a reasonable facsimile.”