All That Glitters Read online

  Jessica stayed in the kitchen with the dog, and as time wore on and no puppies were born, she began to get worried, for Samantha appeared to be in distress. Was something wrong? Jessica had no idea what kind of four-legged Romeo Samantha had met; was it possible that she had mated with a larger breed and now the puppies were too big to be born? Certainly the little black dog was very swollen.

  She rang over to Sallie's side of the house, but the phone rang endlessly and she hung up. Her neighbors were out. After chewing her lip indecisively for a moment, Jessica took the phone directory and began looking for the vet's number. She didn't know if Samantha could be moved while she was in labor, but perhaps the vet made house calls. She found the number and reached for the phone, which rang just as she touched it. She gave a startled cry and leaped back, then she grabbed up the receiver. "Mrs. Stanton."

  "This is Nikolas Constantinos."

  Of course it was, she thought distractedly. Who else had such a deep voice? "What do you want?" she demanded.

  "We have unfinished business—" he began.

  "It will just have to stay unfinished," she broke in. "My dog is having puppies and I can't talk to you. Goodbye, Mr. Constantinos." She hung up and waited a second, then lifted the receiver again. She heard a dial tone as she checked the vet's number again, then began dialing.

  Half an hour later she was weeping in frustration. She could not get her vet, or any other, on the phone, probably because it was Saturday night, and she was sure that Samantha was going to die. The dog was yelping in agony now, squirming and shuddering with the force of her contractions. Jessica felt appallingly helpless, and grief welled up in her so that the tears streamed down her cheeks.

  When the doorbell rang, she scrambled to answer it, glad to have some company, even if the caller knew nothing about dogs. Perhaps it was Charles, who was always so calm, though he would be as useless as she. She jerked the door open and Nikolas Constantinos stepped in as if he owned the house, closing the door behind him. Then he swung on her and she had a glimpse of a grim, angry face before his expression changed abruptly. He took in her jean-clad figure, her mane of hair and tear-streaked face, and he looked incredulous, as if he didn't believe it was really her. "What's wrong?" he asked as he produced a handkerchief and offered it to her.

  Without thinking, Jessica took it and scrubbed at her cheeks. "It—it's my dog," she said thinly, and gulped back fresh tears. "I don't think she can have her puppies, and I can't get a vet on the phone…"

  He frowned. "Your dog is really having puppies?"

  For answer, she burst into a fresh flow of tears, hiding her face in the handkerchief. Her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, and after a moment she felt an arm slide about her waist.

  "Don't cry," Constantinos murmured. "Where is she? Perhaps I can help."

  Of course, why not? She should have thought of that herself; everyone knew billionaires were trained in animal husbandry, she told herself hysterically as she led the way into the kitchen.

  But despite the incongruity of it, Nikolas Constantinos took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair, removed the gold studs from his cuffs and slid them into his pants pocket, then rolled up the sleeves of his white silk shirt. He squatted on his heels beside Samantha's bed and Jessica knelt next to him, because Samantha was inclined to be snappy with strangers even when she was in the best of moods. But Samantha did not offer to snap at him, only watched him with pleading, liquid eyes as he ran his hands gently over her swollen body and examined her. When he had finished, he stroked Samantha's head gently and murmured some Greek words to her that had a soft sound to them, then he turned his head to smile reassuringly at Jessica. "Everything seems to be normal. We should see a pup any minute now."

  "Really?" Jessica demanded, her excitement spiraling as her fears eased. "Samantha is all right?"

  "Yes, you've worried yourself to tears for nothing. Hasn't she had a litter before?"

  Ruefully Jessica shook her head, explaining, "I've always kept her in before. But this time she managed to slip away from me and, well, you know how it goes."

  "Mmmm, yes, I know how it goes," he mocked gently. His black eyes ran over her slim build and made her aware that he had a second meaning for his statement. He was a man and he looked on her as a woman, with a woman's uses, and instinctively she withdrew from his masculine appraisal. But despite that, despite everything he had said to her that afternoon, she felt better now that he was here. Whatever else he was, the man was capable.

  Samantha gave a short, sharp yelp and Jessica turned anxiously to her dog. Nikolas put his arm about Jessica's shoulders and pulled her against his side so that she felt seared by the warmth of his body. "See, it's beginning," he murmured. "There's the first pup."

  Jessica knelt there enthralled, her eyes as wide and wondrous as a child's, while Samantha produced five slick, squirming little creatures, which she nudged one by one against the warmth of her belly. When it became obvious that Samantha had finished at five, when all of the squeaking little things were snuggled against the furry black belly and the dog was lying there in tired contentment, Nikolas got to his feet and drew Jessica to hers, holding her for a moment until the feeling had returned to her numb legs.

  "Is this the first birth you've witnessed?" he asked, tilting her chin up with his thumb and smiling down into her dazed eyes.

  "Yes…wasn't it marvelous?" she breathed.

  "Marvelous," he agreed. The smile faded from his lips and he studied the face that was turned up to him. When he spoke, his voice was low and even. "Now everything is fine; your tears have dried, and you are a lucky young woman. I came over here determined to shake some manners into you. I advise you not to hang up on me again, Jessica. My temper is"—here he gave a shrug of his wide shoulders, as if in acceptance of something he could not change—"not calm."

  Half-consciously she registered the fact that he had used her given name, and that his tongue had seemed to linger over the syllables, then she impulsively placed her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized warmly. "I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been so worried about Samantha. I was trying to call the vet."

  "I realize that now. But at the time I thought you were merely getting rid of me, and very rudely, too. I wasn't in a good mood anyway after you had walked out on me this afternoon. But when I saw you…" His eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down again. "You made me forget my anger."

  She stared at him blankly for a moment before she realized that she hadn't any makeup on, her hair was tumbled about her shoulders, and worse than that, she was barefoot! The wonder was that he had even recognized her! He had been geared up to smash a sophisticated woman of the world, and instead he had found a weeping, tousled girl who did not quite reach his shoulder. A blush warmed her cheeks.

  Nervously she pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I—ummm—I must look a mess," she stammered, and he reached out and touched the streaked gold of her hair, making her forget in midsentence what she had been saying.

  "No, you don't look a mess," he assured her absently, watching the hair slide along his dark fingers. "You look disturbingly young, but lovely for all your wet lashes and swollen lids." His black eyes flickered back to hers. "Have you had your dinner yet, Jessica?"

  "Dinner?" she asked vaguely, before she mentally kicked herself for not being faster than that and assuring him that she had indeed already had her meal.

  "Yes, dinner," he mocked. "I can see that you haven't. Slip into a dress and I'll take you out for dinner. We still have business to discuss and I think it would be wiser if the discussion did not take place in the privacy of your home."

  She wasn't certain just what he meant by that, but she knew better than to ask for an explanation. Reluctantly she agreed. "It will take me about ten minutes," she said. "Would you like a drink while I'm dressing?"

  "No, I'll wait until you can join me," he said.

  Jessica ran upstairs and washed her face in cold water, w