Page 49 of Inked Athena

The adult collie—sleek and gorgeous with intelligent eyes—sits primly beside him, watching the proceedings with what looks like maternal concern.

“And who’s this beauty?” I ask.

“This here’s my Fiona. Best herding dog in the county.” He pats her head proudly. “Was thinking, if you’re interested, there’s a herding clinic next week in the village. Could teach you proper handling techniques. These wee ones’ll need structure once they’re bigger.”

My heart leaps at the thought of having a project, something beyond waiting for Samuil’s return and watching my belly grow.

But then reality crashes back. “I should check with?—”

“Already cleared it with the boss,” Duncan interrupts with a wink. “Mr. Litvinov arranged everything before he left.”

Of course he did. Part of me wants to be irritated at his high-handedness, at how he’s trying to manage me even from hundreds of miles away.

But as the runt of the litter crawls into my lap and promptly falls asleep, I can’t summon the anger.

Damn him for knowing exactly what I need.

“When do we start?” I ask, already mentally planning how to puppy-proof our bedroom. The turret might make an excellent training space…

“Tomorrow morning, if you’re up for it.” Duncan whistles and Fiona immediately comes to attention. “We’ll start with the basics: voice commands, positioning, that sort of thing. These little ones are too young yet, but they’ll be watching and learning.”

The puppy in my lap lets out a tiny snore. His siblings have collapsed in a heap nearby, worn out from their excitement. I stroke his soft fur, feeling more at peace than I have in weeks.

“Thank you,” I tell Duncan. “Both for this and for…” I gesture vaguely, encompassing the whole setup that has Samuil’s fingerprints all over it.

He tips his cap. “Pleasure’s mine, lass. Though I should warn you: handling border collies isn’t for the faint of heart. They’re clever as the devil and twice as stubborn.”

My mind goes immediately to Samuil, and I snort. “I have some experience with that type.”

The puppies are great. I mean, what’s not to love about puppies? But entering into week four with still no sign of Samuil is… less great.

It’s maddening, actually.

If the puppies were Samuil’s attempt to come home to a forgiving Nova Pierce, he’s going to need an ark full of them. Puppies of Biblical proportion are the only way I would ever be able to not be livid at him for leaving me for three, going on four, entire weeks.

I’m sitting in the soft grass next to the loch—far enough away that the puppies can’t beeline into the water—when I hear footsteps crunching on the dirt behind me.

I turn, and my traitorous heart gallops at the sight of…

Myles, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“You’re not the asshole I was expecting.”

Where is Samuil?I want to add.Is he inside? Can I see him? Does he want to see me?

Before all my pathetic questions can pour out, Myles drops down on the blanket next to me. “That particular asshole got held up in London. I’m afraid he’ll be another week or two.”

The puppies charge at the newcomer. Myles can’t help but smile as they clamber over him.

Meanwhile, disappointment is turning my stomach over. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “Hemight as well stay in London. I’ve gotten used to the quiet around here,” I lie.

“He wants to be here, Nova, but things are complicated.”

I roll my eyes. “Aren’t they always?”

“Cut him some slack. It hasn’t been easy for him.”

“He could’ve told me all about it when he called me every night—except, oh, wait, hedidn’tcall me every night. We haven’t even spoken.” My throat tightens with tears I refuse to shed. Because once I start, we might all need that ark full of puppies to escape the flood. “He doesn’t tell me anything, Myles. Do you think being kept in the dark is easy for me?”

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