Page 10 of Mr. Misunderstood

Slowly, I lift my head. Gavin’s no longer sitting beside me. He’s talking to the vet and typing something on his phone. The follow-up instructions, I’m guessing. Then he pulls out a credit card and hands it over.

“Thank you,” I say. My voice is breathless and shaky.

He glances over his shoulder. “Head between your knees. Until your heart stops pounding and you’r

e no longer dizzy. Then I’ll take you in to see Luna before we head to your place. In the morning, we can see about picking her up and bringing her home.”

I nod and lower my head again. He’s right. I’m still close to fainting. The relief is overwhelming. If Gavin hadn’t been here, I probably would have passed out on the waiting room floor.

He is staying until tomorrow. He’s going to help bring her home.

“Thank you,” I whisper again. But I don’t think he hears me. He’s talking to the vet again. Then he’s by my side, helping me rise from the chair. Honestly, he’s practically carrying me into the exam room.

“I owe you,” I say.

“We don’t keep score, remember? That’s not how this works.”

“I know.” There are some debts you can never repay, so why keep track? “But I’m glad you’re here. And I promise I’ll help you find a fake fiancée.”

There must be a woman out there willing to play the part. Not me. It could never be me. I’ll make that clear before he returns to Manhattan. But I won’t tell him why. He doesn’t need to know I’m afraid of losing my heart to the man behind the Gavin Black mask.

CHAPTER 4

KAYLA

“Someone shot at my fiancée last night.”

I hear the words before I push through the screen door leading to my kitchen. I pause, hand on the doorframe. Confusion mingles with a severe lack of morning coffee. The effect clouds my understanding of the scene unfolding in front of me.

Three uniformed officers stand by my kitchen table. Gavin paces in front of them. Ginger, an old tabby cat I rescued right after my divorce, darts back and forth in his path, trying to divert Gavin’s attention to her food dish. But he just keeps talking, tossing out words like “investigation” and “arrest.”

And fiancée. That’s twice now.

I frown.

Twenty minutes ago, I filled my mug with a quarter cup of Joe. Then I ordered Gavin to make a fresh pot with enough caffeine to meet both our needs, and I took my dogs for a walk. And yes, I ignored his orders to stay near the house in case the shooter returned. I walked my usual loop around the falling-down red barn, which marked the property boundary between my house and Gavin’s country mansion. Somehow, while I was out with my dogs, minus poor Luna who’d spent the night at the vet’s office, Gavin had acquired his fake fiancée.

The woman who’d been shot at last night while walking her dog.

“Damn you, Gavin,” I mutter.

I push open the door and quickly step inside. I leave the dogs in the yard. This section, near the back door, is fenced. And the last thing this early morning scene needs is a rescue pup accidentally mistaking a policeman’s pant leg for her post-breakfast snack.

I make a beeline for the coffee pot. Before I confront the officers and the man who cast me in a role I did not agree to play, I need a full mug, or maybe a caffeine I.V. after my restless night worrying about Luna.

“Kayla, sweetheart, you’re back,” Gavin says.

I turn to face him. “Yes, sweetheart, I am.”

If he missed the warning in my echoed endearment, he’s a fool. I can think of a long list of words to describe Gavin. Pushy. Controlling. Annoying. Coffee hog. But he’s not a fool. He wanted me to play the part. Instead of trying to convince me, he went public with his plan.

“I called the police to file a report about last night’s shooting,” Gavin continues. “I let the vet know that we’d handle it first thing.”

“Thanks for coming by, Lucie,” I say with a nod to the deputy chief of police for our quiet, country town. I turn to the other two officers. “Good to see you, Mac. You too, Jay. Can I offer you some coffee?”

“We’re good,” Lucie says. “Why don’t we all sit down and you can tell us exactly what happened. Mr. Black claims someone shot at you and hit one of your dogs.”

Of course Lucie would call him Mr. Black with a note of reverence in her voice. Gavin sponsored the town’s new police station and donated the funds to buy a fleet of patrol cars. Still, she’s not the one who will leak the news about the local billionaire’s engagement to his reclusive neighbor. No, I’m willing to bet a week’s worth of dog food that Jay will spread the gossip far and wide.

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