Men Of Honour. Lori Foster

the long tail ended with a white streak.

      Jett stroked the dog and although he could feel his bones, he didn’t find any burrs or noticeable injuries. “He needs a bath, a brushing and a lot more food.”

      “And he needs someone to love him.” Kneeling down, Natalie reached out for the dog.

      Surprised by the quaver in her voice, Jett bent to see her face. Dampness spiked her lashes and left her eyes glistening. Feeling very indulgent, he asked, “Hey, are you crying?”

      She sniffed and shook her head. “No.”

      Yes she was, and the purely female reaction had a dual assault on his senses. Her tenderness made him feel like the macho protector; she was so quintessentially female that it stirred him on a basic level. Another part of him ached at seeing her upset, because he suspected the reason.

      In so many ways Natalie was an enigma, independent and forceful one minute, vulnerable and achingly sweet the next.

      She wanted acceptance, but was afraid to trust—much like the abandoned animal.

      Seeing her distress left an ache in his chest. “Ah, baby, he’ll be okay.”

      Her smile wobbled. “Thanks to you.”

      To shore up that statement, the dog curled up next to Jett. He rested his head on Jett’s thigh and let out a lusty sigh.

      Natalie reached over to rub his ear. “Poor little guy is exhausted.”

      Rather than make a big deal out of her teary-eyed emotion, Jett tried to lighten her mood. “I like his crossed eyes.”

      Natalie gave a watery laugh. “They’re not really crossed. Just close together. And with his nose so big…” When she curled her fingers under the dog’s chin, he closed his eyes in bliss.

      Making up his mind, Jett said, “You know what? I think I’ll keep him.”

      Excitement brightened her eyes more than the tears had. “Keep him? Seriously?”

      Jett rolled one shoulder. “Sure, why not? It’s pretty obvious that he’s a stray. And I don’t have a dog, so…” He said again, “Why not?”

      She hurriedly settled herself cross-legged and leaned into his side. Smiling at the dog, continuing to stroke his ears, his neck, she admitted, “I’ve never had a pet.”

      “Why not?” Growing up, he and his sisters had always had animals. They’d become members of the family, living into old age with a lot of love and affection.

      Looking wistful Natalie shook her head. “Dad didn’t allow them when we were younger, and since I’ve been on my own, I figured I wasn’t home enough to give a pet the care and attention it would need.” She fidgeted, adding, “Besides, I’m not sure I trust myself to know what to do since I’ve never had any experience with animals. What if I did something wrong?”

      “You wouldn’t.” Jett instinctively knew that Natalie would do anything and everything necessary to protect those dependent on her, whether it be a pet…or a child.

      Thinking of her with a kid did something funny to him, something disconcerting because it was so pleasing.

      “Jett?”

      His right eye flinched. Hell, he’d barely gotten her to agree to see him out of bed and already his mind had gotten way off track.

      “Caring is the biggest part of the job.” He put his hand over hers on the dog’s nape. “Because you care, you’d make sure he was fed and clean and healthy, and that he got exercise. That he felt secure. That’s all there is to it.”

      Beneath his hand, hers trembled. She skirted his gaze. “You have more faith in me than I do.”

      He released her hand to catch her chin, bringing her face around to his. “I’m a damn good judge of character.” And Natalie Alexander was golden, through and through.

      “That’s why you got clocked with a keyboard by a female spy?”

      Jett grabbed his chest, as if she’d dealt a lethal blow. Then he laughed and lifted both eyebrows. “That time doesn’t count because it wasn’t her character I paid attention to.”

      Natalie shoved him with her shoulder, but her mouth twisted with a repressed laugh. “Jerk.”

      “You brought it back up.” He smiled with her. “You’d be a great pet owner, Natalie. Take my word for it.”

      “Thanks. But given my lack of experience, I don’t think I’ll test the validity of that on some poor dog.”

      Jett could see her yearning, how badly she wanted to believe him. In the normal scheme of things, Natalie was such a confident woman. Seeing her like this twisted him up inside.

      He conspired a swift solution that worked twofold; he could give Natalie a chance to accustom herself to the responsibilities of a dog, and at the same time he’d be building one more bond between them. “We’ll share him, okay?”

      She went still then jerked toward him, her face flushing with warmth. “Share him?”

      “Sure.” Most would consider that a chore, but Natalie acted as though he’d just given her an amazing gift. Her enthusiasm made him want her. Again.

      Of course, he always wanted her. The woman could sneeze and it felt like a come-on to him.

      Showing great restraint, he held himself in check.

      Puzzling over his offer, she asked, “How would that work?”

      “We both have full-time jobs, but between us he’ll get plenty of attention. That is, if you’re sure that you don’t mind helping.”

      She looked thrilled. “I love the idea.” She put her arms around Jett and squeezed him tight. “Thank you!”

      The dog caught on to her excitement and jumped up. With his tail going like crazy, he yapped, turned a circle—and lifted his leg to pee.

      With a yelp, Natalie lurched back out of range, but Jett wasn’t quite so lucky. The bottom of his jeans got sprinkled.

      He looked at Natalie’s face and knew she was afraid of how he might react. Did she expect anger? Outrage? Abuse against the poor animal for getting excited?

      He’d have his work cut out for him, winning her trust.

      Jett rubbed the dog’s ear. Deadpan, he said to Natalie, “This might be a good time to mention that there could be some messes until he gets trained.”

      Relief left her giggling. One hand over her mouth, she scrambled to her feet and headed into the kitchen for paper towels. “He can stay at my place sometimes?”

      Damn, but she kept his emotions in turmoil. How the hell could she be so killer-sexy and still be so damned sweet?

      “If you don’t mind the occasional accident.” Maybe with the dog as an incentive, she’d break down and spend the night with him instead of scuttling back to her own apartment even before their breathing had quieted.

      Usually he avoided the commitment implicit in spending the night together, but the idea of holding Natalie all night, waking with her in the morning, appealed to him.

      Jett tried to take the towels from her so he could clean up the dog’s accident himself, but Natalie bent to the task without hesitation. Her hair fell forward, hiding her face, but he knew she was smiling.

      Staring down at her, Jett noted the delicate line of her spine, the flare of her hips and her utter lack of squeamishness. He marveled that she’d come from an entitled background.

      Not once had he ever seen her put her nose up at anyone. She didn’t shy away from hard work. She drove a modest car and dressed conservatively, both in style and cost. She laughed easily, spoke her mind and lived independently of her wealthy father.

      In no way did