Читать книгу: «Miami Attraction»
Dusty took Mikayla’s mouth in an urgent kiss. He kissed her as if he was a starving man and she was a feast.
Mikayla responded with an enthusiasm he’d only dreamed about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight, parting her lips to accept his hot tongue as it explored every inch of her mouth.
Dusty picked up Mikayla and within seconds she was beneath him on the large four-poster bed. His blue-jean-clad legs pushed hers apart so that he could sink into her body. Dusty was awed by how well their bodies fit together. It was as if she were molded just for him. But there was only one potter that could create anything as divine as Mikayla Schroeder.
He let his tongue roll over her neck in featherlight touches, savoring the shift of her body as she pulsed with pleasure. He slid his hand between their bodies and almost groaned at the heat coming from her center. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Not sure he could wait much longer, Dusty sat back and pulled his polo shirt over his head, before scooping her up in his arms once more.
Mikayla followed Dusty’s lead, removing her blouse. She went to unsnap her front-latch bra, but Dusty’s hands got there first.
“Let me,” he whispered in her ear.
ELAINE OVERTON
currently resides in the Detroit area with her son. She attended a local business college before entering the military and serving in the Gulf War.
She is an administrative assistant, currently working for an automotive-industry supplier and is an active member of Romance Writers of America.
Miami Attraction
Elaine Overton
MILLS & BOON
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking the time to read Miami Attraction. As we all know, everyone we meet comes from a different walk of life and a different background, and sometimes the parts of our pasts that we are most ashamed of are the parts that have made us stronger. They are the parts that have made us who we are today.
In Dusty and Mikayla’s story I have tried to express exactly that sentiment. These two characters find a way to embrace their future together, but in order to do that they must first learn how to heal the pains of their past.
I hope you enjoy their story.
Take care,
Elaine
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 1
Mikayla Shroeder stood outside the front door of her three-bedroom stucco bungalow in the South Beach neighborhood. She hesitated to put her key in the lock and open the door for fear of what awaited her on the other side.
She’d been gone from her home for a record seven days now, and despite the help she’d hired to deal with her problem, she held little hope much had changed in her absence. Still, she was near exhaustion and the thought of sleeping in her own bed tonight held too much appeal to resist. It was time to face the unavoidable.
On a deep sigh she placed the key in the lock, turned and steeled herself for what would come next. She pushed on the heavy oak door as it opened.
She waited. Nothing happened.
She pushed it even farther open until she could see the entryway leading to the sunken living room. She entered the house, confused by the silence.
At first glance everything appeared to be normal. The small cherrywood table that decorated the foyer was once again lying on its side. The small glass vase that usually sat on the table was smashed, with bits of glass scattered across the light oak wood floor, interspersed with the wilted flowers that once occupied the vase.
“Hello?” Stepping over the glass, she closed the door behind her and moved farther into the house, walking toward the living room. The recently purchased orange pillows that were supposed to line the bright red, box-styled sofas were thrown about the room. The round glass coffee table was still centered between the sofas, but the stacks of her favorite travel books were falling over on themselves and spilling off the table.
Despite the disarray, which was expected, the stillness of the place bothered her the most.
“Kim?” Mikayla frowned to herself as her confusion grew and along with it, her concern. “Angel? Where’s my sweet girl?”
Her calls were met with dead silence.
She walked along the short, cream, carpeted pathway that led around the sunken living room and rounded the corner into the kitchen.
The sink was full of dishes, except for the ones that had been pulled out of a bottom cabinet and tossed around the room. The dish towel was sprawled on the floor next to where both wood counter stools lay on their sides. The box of dog treats that usually sat in one corner of the counter was turned on its side and completely emptied.
Mikayla was crossing the room to pick up one of the stools when she heard the first sounds of life.
“Drop it!” A forceful, female voice came from the back of the bungalow. “I said drop it!”
Mikayla hurried toward the voice, passing through the elegant dining room and vaguely noticing the table and chairs were upright and properly positioned.
“Give it back! Bad!” The female voice was growing angrier. “Bad Angel!”
Mikayla rushed through the glass sliding doors that led to the backyard and pool patio, and stopped in her tracks.
“Bad Angel! Bad!” Kim Shapiro, her nineteen-year-old neighbor and dog sitter was standing, dripping wet beside the pool in a royal blue bikini bottom and nothing else. Her small hands were balled in fists at her side; her pretty face was twisted in an angry expression as she glared across the pool. “Drop it, Angel! I mean it!”
Mikayla followed the direction of Kim’s death stare and knew what she’d find before her eyes landed on the large, scruffy, tan-colored dog standing on the other side of the pool. The dog’s wet tail was wagging in excitement, her soaked fur dripping on the patio as a wet bikini top hung from her mouth.
“Oh, no,” Mikayla groaned, knowing she’d just lost yet another dog sitter.
The small noise was enough to startle the teenager, and she covered her bare breasts with her arms. “Ms. Shroeder—I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s okay. I can see you’re busy.” Mikayla started along the poolside toward Angel, who’d already dropped the bikini top and was charging in her direction.
Mikayla braced herself for the huge paws that landed on her shoulders a moment later, and positioned her feet to keep her balance. It had taken her months to learn that trick; Angel use to knock her down with little effort.
Kim seized the opportunity to rush around the pool and grab her top. “Aren’t you back a little early?” She cast one last glare at Angel before turning her back to the pair and tying the halter top back on.
Mikayla looked at the dog’s face now inches from her own, and found bright blue eyes blinking back at her and a pink tongue lolling to the side. Hot breath that smelled like day-old milk bones blew across her face.
Despite the scene she’d entered on, and Angel’s penchant for trouble, Mikayla was satisfied that her pet had not been mistreated in her absence.
Rubbing the top of the shaggy head of her ill-behaved beast, she asked Kim, “How was everything this week?”
Kim turned with a false smile in place. “Great! Just great. Me and Angel had a great time. Didn’t we, girl?”
“Down, Angel,” Mikayla said, but Angel was too busy licking her face to hear her name being said. “Down, Angel!” Mikayla said again, with little reaction from the dog.
She took the large paws and forcefully removed them from her shoulders.
Not the slightest bit put off by the rebuke, Angel shuffled away to her favorite end of the pool and dived in.
“What happened?” Mikayla asked, taking in the water-splattered patio, and various pool toys scattered around the area.
“We were in the pool—” Kim began to explain.
“She loves the pool,” Mikayla interjected apologetically as she began to understand what had occurred.
“Yeah, I know.” Kim gave the dog a long-suffering look. “Anyway, everything was fine and then I dived too hard, I guess, and my top slipped up—”
Mikayla stopped where she was bent over picking up a floaty. “Oh, dear.” She muttered. “Angel grabbed it.”
“It happened so fast!” Kim’s blue eyes widened in renewed surprise. “Before I even realized what had happened she had it and was out of the pool.” She sighed. “That’s where you came in.”
“I’m sorry about that. Angel feels that anything loose in the pool is, well…up for grabs.” Mikayla bent and picked up a chew toy, but just then Angel came loping up, leaving a trail of water in her wake, and snatched the toy from Mikayla’s hand. “I guess it’s my fault. I’ve let her get away with it for so long.”
“For the most part, she’s a real sweetheart.” Kim leaned forward and rubbed the dog’s wet head. “Just…a little rambunctious.”
“That’s an understatement,” Mikayla muttered. She glanced at the girl who, despite the bikini top incident, looked none the worse after a week with Angel, and decided now was as good a time as any to bring up her next trip. “Listen, Kim, I have another conference in a few weeks and—”
“I can’t!” Kim blurted. “I have plans for that week.”
I haven’t even said which week.
A brief glimpse of what looked like embarrassment crossed the girl’s face. “I mean, I’m going to be heading back to school soon. Spring break’s almost over. I doubt if I’d be able to do it.”
“I understand.” Mikayla forced a smile. Another one bites the dust. She was running out of neighbors. Soon Angel’s name and picture would be posted on the community board in front of the local library under the heading BEWARE. Then what was she supposed to do for dog sitters?
After all, Kim had been an unexpected prize. Mikayla and Angel had moved in a little over a year ago and with Kim being away at college most of the year, she’d somehow been spared the worst of the rumors about the new neighborhood nuisance, as Mikayla had heard her next-door neighbor refer to Angel.
When they’d run into Kim during one of their afternoon walks, Kim and Angel had taken to each other, and that was an excellent omen, considering how rare it was that Angel took to anyone.
Over the next few weeks, Mikayla had set out on a calculated campaign to win the girl over and it hadn’t taken much since she already loved animals, and when Kim was around Angel was on her best behavior.
So, when she offered to pay Kim to stay at her house for a few days to take care of the dog, and Kim, like most college students, needed money, it had seemed like a match made in heaven.
But still, during the entire five-day trip, Mikayla could not get rid of the nagging feeling that she’d set Kim up to be a victim. During her motivation lectures to the gathering of aspiring writers, Mikayla’s mind had wandered away on several occasions. And even during the book signing, she’d autographed a copy of her book “To Angel.”
And when she’d arrived home today, she’d expected to find the same scene she’d found after returning from her last two trips. Turned-over tables and chairs, torn pillows and damp carpets. The fact the house still looked like a house was a testament to Kim’s unique relationship with her pet. But that emphatic response had been enough to let her know they’d lost the last, best hope.
“Well, now that you’re back, I’m gonna head home.” Kim headed toward the glass doors leading into the house.
Mikayla looked down at her scruffy companion who was staring back at her with adoring eyes and a wagging tail, wanting to play.
“What am I gonna do with you?” Mikayla asked.
Angel’s response was the accelerated wagging of the tail and a loud bark. Play was all she had on her mind.
At the glass doors, Kim paused. “Um…Ms. Shroeder?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever thought of sending Angel to an obedience school?”
“It’s crossed my mind,” Mikayla said, finding no need to mention that she’d tried it with three different schools, all of which had returned both her money and her dog and declared the task impossible. But Kim didn’t need to know all that. She was already enough of a lost cause as it was.
“Just thought I’d ask. I’ll just go grab my bag out of the guest room,” Kim said and headed toward the bedrooms. Angel glanced at the girl and then back at Mikayla, torn as to which to follow.
Mikayla watched the dog make her decision as she plopped down on her wide bottom. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
Angel looked up at her owner with big, innocent eyes. A few minutes later Mikayla was in the kitchen, standing with the fridge door open, looking for something to eat when Kim entered, carrying the overnight tote she’d collected from the guest room.
“Here you go.” Mikayla turned and handed the girl an envelope. “I gave you a little more than we agreed on.” She nodded down at Angel who was sitting on her foot. “I know she can be a handful.”
“You didn’t have to do that—but thank you.”
Kim accepted the envelope and looked down at the dog with gentle eyes. “She’s certainly high-strung, but she is a sweetheart. Just mischievous.”
The young woman’s compassionate response made Mikayla regret losing her even more.
“See you later, Ms. Shroeder.” Kim paused again. “You know, I’ve heard about this dog trainer in Davies. Dr. Dusty Warren. He’s supposed to be some kind of dog whisperer, you know—gifted with animals.”
Despite her failure with trainers, Mikayla’s interest was sparked nonetheless. “Really?”
“Yeah, my aunt had an aggressive mastiff and from what she said this guy worked wonders.”
“Dusty Warren, you said?” Mikayla dug out some leftover sandwich meats, cheese slices and mayonnaise from the fridge.
“Yeah, he’s a really renowned vet, and from what my aunt said he has this huge sprawling ranch down in Davies with a full-size hospital and everything. I mean, if you ever consider getting her some training that would be a place to start. Anyway, just thought I’d mention it.” The girl headed to the door, holding up the envelope. “Thanks for the money.”
“Thank you for taking care of Angel!” Mikayla called out.
Angel barely acknowledged the girl’s departure. Her full attention was centered on the sandwich being stacked on the marble island counter top. Her fluffy tail wagged as Mikayla began to cut it in half.
“Dr. Dusty Warren, huh?” she muttered to herself. “A dog whisperer.” Hearing a slight whimper, she looked to see Angel wagging her tail and glancing back between the sandwich and Mikayla.
Mikayla raised an eyebrow. “And exactly why do you think you deserve this after your behavior this morning?”
Angel glanced at her expectantly and returned her attention to the sandwich.
“I wonder if this Dr. Warren is really any different from the others.”
As if sensing her chances of getting some of the sandwich were slimming, Angel made another whimpering sound.
“Oh, all right.” Mikayla dropped half the sandwich into Angel’s food bowl. “Although you really don’t deserve it.”
Angel rushed to the bowl and began gobbling down the sandwich.
Picking up the remaining half of the sandwich, Mikayla collected her computer carry case from where she’d left it near the front door and headed to her study. Before she got her hopes up again, she wanted to do a little research on this Dr. Dusty Warren.
Chapter 2
Dr. Dusty Warren had just finished the procedure of neutering a one-year-old Yorkie, and was in the process of tying off his final stitch in his operating room when he heard the commotion coming from the outer offices of his veterinarian hospital.
He frowned at his nurse, but Nurse Francine Weathers shrugged in confusion. Dusty forced himself to ignore the unidentified noises and focus on his patient.
Then a loud crash, followed by a screech, a scream and an irate voice caused him to put down the instrument and go to the door.
He opened it just as a bolt of reddish-gold fur shot past the door with a long, red cloth trailing behind. He recognized the blur as a dog right before two of his staff came charging around the corner, chasing the dog.
“Come back here, you hell hound!” His front-desk receptionist, Hannah, called, sounding more angry than he’d ever heard her before. Hannah was the most cheerful employee he had.
Right behind Hannah was Tim, one of his property caretakers, and Tim’s reaction was different than that of Hannah’s. Tim was laughing so hard he was out of breath and bracing himself against the wall to keep from falling.
“What the hell is going on?” Dusty asked Tim.
Tim’s eyes widened, noticing his boss standing in the doorway of the operating room.
“Sorry, Dr. Warren, a dog got loose.”
“A dog?”
“A new patient. Hannah was just checking her in when—”
A blue-jeans-clad woman came charging around the same corner as the others and did not even hesitate as she rushed past both Dusty and Tim, following in the wake of Hannah and the dog.
A slight breeze of perfume floated on the air as she passed, but the woman was moving so fast Dusty barely saw her face. The snug fit of the jeans around her curvy hips would’ve been noticeable even in the dark.
“Who was that?” he asked Tim, who still hadn’t moved from his position on the opposite wall.
“That’s the dog’s owner.” Tim looked down the hall where the three had disappeared around the corner. “It’s Mikayla Shroeder.”
“The author?”
“In the flesh.” Tim nodded.
Dusty shook his head, trying to shake off his growing confusion. “Can you finish up here?” he called to Nurse Fran over his shoulder.
“No problem,” she called back.
Dusty let go of the swinging door, removed his latex gloves and went after the two women and the dog, motioning for Tim to follow.
Dusty thought about the large size of the animal that had rushed by earlier. “Is the dog dangerous?” he asked, taking long strides.
“No,” Tim answered a few steps behind him, “just ill-mannered. That thing she has in his mouth is Hannah’s new dress. She bought it for a party she’s going to tonight with her new boyfriend.”
Dusty glanced over his shoulder at his young caretaker, remembering that only recently he and Hannah had stopped dating.
“She had just taken it out of the bag to show some of us and then the phone rang.” Tim continued. “She laid it on the desk, and out of nowhere the dog grabbed it and took off.”
Dusty came around the corner. He stopped dead in his tracks, leaving Tim to put on his brakes to avoid running into the back of him. They were in the pen area and the other dogs locked in the cages were going crazy with the sudden infusion of activity around them.
Before Dusty were his receptionist, Hannah, and the dog’s owner, both flanking the dog. To be fair, the scruffy, mangy mutt barely qualified as a canine. The large dog had dirty, gold-colored, matted fur. She had the large, muscular build and square-shaped head of a Saint Bernard, but the pointed features and blue eyes of a husky. Independently, both were beautiful species of dogs, but combined in this two-hundred-pound monstrosity it seemed an abomination.
Watching the two women, its whole body vibrated with excitement. The dog stood in a wide-legged stance with a tattered red cloth clamped between its teeth, shining blue eyes looking for any small opportunity to escape.
In the cacophony of barks and howls, Dusty heard what sounded like a muffled cry and realized it was coming from his receptionist.
“Oh, what’s the use, it’s ruined!” Hannah’s shoulders slumped, her guard dropped, and the dog seized the opportunity, ducking between her legs only to be grabbed by the collar and tackled by Tim.
“I’m so sorry.” The other woman put her arms around Hannah’s shoulders, and Dusty found his eyes once again drawn to her fitted jeans. “I’ll replace it—today. Just tell me where you bought it and the size and I’ll pick up another today.”
“You can’t!” Hannah cried harder. “It was the last one, I found it on the clearance rack.”
Dusty glanced back to where the dog was wiggling and squirming to get free from Tim’s tight hold around its body. The animal’s legs were spread wide as it kicked and pawed in every direction. Tim hauled the animal over to an empty carry case and pushed her into it headfirst and latched the box closed.
Angel began to revolt, barking and scratching at the sides of the box. Hearing her pet’s cry for help, Mikayla left the young woman’s side and kneeled beside the box.
She attempted to comfort Angel with shushing noises. Seeing it was not working, she sighed. “Sorry, baby, but you brought this on yourself.”
Meanwhile, Tim had circled back around and replaced Mikayla, wrapping his arm around Hannah’s shoulder in an attempt to console her over the loss of her new dress.
Between the howling animals and the crying receptionist, Dusty had had enough. He walked over to the woman kneeling beside the cage and offered his hand to bring her to her feet. Mikayla accepted the helping hand, and as she stood she came eye-to-eye with the doctor.
Dusty forgot his train of thought. His staff, the barking dogs, everything fell away. All he could focus on were eyes the color of September’s fall leaves just as they began to turn that rich, deep brown. There was aged knowledge in those eyes that did not go with the beautiful, youthful face in which they were contained. She was what the elders called an old soul. A person wise beyond their years, and he was curious to know what had given such a beautiful young woman such sad eyes.
Feeling her tug, he realized he was still holding her hand and quickly released it.
He cleared his throat and put on his professional voice. “Hello, I’m Dr. Dusty Warren.” He introduced himself to the woman.
“Mikayla Shroeder.” She smiled. “Sorry to cause your staff so much trouble, but I guess you can see why we’re here.” She gestured to the dog. “This is Angel, and as you can see she is in desperate need of some training, and I was told you’re the best.”
Dusty smiled. “You’ve certainly come to the right place. Tim, please put the dog in room three.”
But Tim and Hannah had their heads bent together, talking in whispers. Rather than call him again, Dusty pushed the wheeled case himself. “This way.” He gestured for Mikayla to go ahead of him.
“I apologize again. I don’t know what got into her.” Mikayla was speaking over her shoulder as she moved back into the main hospital.
“Well, let’s go find out, shall we?” Dusty struggled to keep his head up and avoid looking at those form-fitting jeans and how they moved with her body.
“I think you may have accidentally done Tim a good service,” Dusty said, closing the door behind him. “That dress was for Hannah’s date with a new guy.”
“Aaahhh,” Mikayla said. “With Tim being the old guy, I presume?”
“Exactly.”
Dusty parked the case by the table, and Angel was sitting quietly inside, having accepted her temporary fate. Dusty reached over to the wall and took down a leash.
He opened the cage and hooked the leash to her collar before Angel even realized what he was doing. But once the collar was attached she began bouncing around inside. Even with her standing a few feet away, Dusty could feel the tension in Mikayla.
Once the dog was out of the cage and climbing all over Dusty, Mikayla released a breath she’d been holding.
“She likes you.” The slight surprise in Mikayla’s voice indicated that this was not typically the case.
Dusty pushed Angel back down on her bottom and began trying to examine her, while she continued to climb on him, attempting to put her paws over his shoulders. All of a sudden her busy motion stopped and she sat down on her rump, tail wagging, but beyond that she was calm.
Dusty looked at the dog and was surprised to see her just watching him in silence. “She seems in good health.”
After much resistance, he managed to get her mouth open and looked at her teeth. “What is she, about six? Six and a half?”
“I think so.”
He glanced at Mikayla and looked away. What a beauty, he thought, trying to keep his mind on the dog.
He knew about the author and motivational speaker, Mikayla Shroeder. Who didn’t? In fact, he’d read her first book a few years ago. He’d picked it up at the airport, just wanting something to read on the plane while traveling to a veterinarian conference in Portland, Oregon, not realizing at the time that it was Christian inspirational nonfiction. The book, Reclaiming Your Soul, had been a national bestseller within weeks of coming out, and launched the formerly unknown author into instant superstardom. That day in the airport, he had wanted to see what all the fuss was about. In fact, as far as he knew the book was still selling in record volumes.
Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed reading it at the time, but he had given little thought to the author, and what thought he’d given had not come anywhere close to the gorgeous, young woman standing in his office.
She’d only written the one book that he knew of, but nowadays you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a promotion for one of her upcoming seminars.
He’d assumed she was older. Much older. Why, he wasn’t sure, just something about the way she wrote spoke of a maturity beyond her years. He thought about the book he’d read and didn’t think there’d been an author photo along with the brief bio.
He was so occupied by his thoughts of Mikayla that what came next took him by surprise. Angel sprang at him in joyful delight, all two hundred pounds of her, and together they hit the floor with Dusty on the bottom.
Before he knew what had happened, Angel was standing on his chest, smiling down at him. She barked once, a loud, happy bark as if to declare she’d won.
“Angel!” Mikayla was pulling on the leash, trying to get the dog off him, but Dusty was more successful in just pushing her to the side and climbing to his feet. Except for a bruised ego, he was none the worse off.
“Bad girl!” Mikayla was scolding her, even as she petted her head. Dusty wondered if she understood how contradictory her actions were.
He dusted himself off. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“You’re disciplining her with words, but rewarding her with action.” He motioned to where her hand was running over the dog’s head. Angel’s tail wagged as she enjoyed the petting.
Mikayla looked down at her hand as if it had taken on a life of it’s own. “I hadn’t even realized it.” She snatched back her hand. “It’s just habit.”
Dusty glanced down at the dog who was once again sitting, this time at her master’s side, her tail still wagging happily.
Dusty thought he better lay down the ground rules now. He’d seen this before. People who could not bear the idea of being apart from their pets for any amount of time. Just watching her behavior with the dog, Dusty thought Mikayla Shroeder might be one of those people.
“Ms. Shroeder—”
“Mikayla.”
“Mikayla, you need to understand that my training methods are different from others. If I accept Angel as a client, she has to stay here with me.”
Her eyes widened. “For how long?”
“Eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks? Why so long?”
He braced his weight against the examination table and folded his arms across his chest. “What I do is less training and more deprogramming. I need to be her complete focus for a while. After two weeks, you can come visit her and then after that I need you to come in once a week for training.”
“What kind of training?” she asked.
“You have to understand that Angel is half the problem. You’re the other half. Your behavior toward her has to change as much as her behavior toward you.”
She glanced down at her dog, who gazed up at her with adoring eyes. “I don’t know about this. Eight weeks is a long time. We haven’t been separated that long, since…I just don’t know.”
Dusty caught the pause, but said nothing. Most people who came to him never went through with the program for this very reason. They did not want to be separated from their pet for such an extended amount of time. But separating them was the only way to get the dog’s complete attention, and getting the dog’s complete attention was the way to retrain them.
“I tell you what.” He walked over to her and took Angel’s leash. “How about I give you a tour of the hospital and training facility and then you make up your mind?”
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