‘Oh, my gosh, you’ve still got it in your hand. Is it horrible? I mean, covered in doggy slobber?’ She looked at him, and he could tell she was trying not to laugh at his dilemma. She was enchanting.

  ‘It is a tad on the damp side, but what do you expect from a well-loved dog ball?’ He didn’t think wiping his hand down the side of his trousers in disgust was the way to impress Ms Evans.

  ‘I’m glad you understand.’ Her lips curved into a smile that lit her blue eyes. ‘I’m sure Daisy would love you to throw her ball for her.’

  Josh had grown up with dogs. He donated substantial sums to dog rescue organisations. But he didn’t want the responsibility of owning one himself. He never wanted to be tied down by anything or anyone. Not even a dog. Certainly not a woman. He’d been driven to prove himself to people who didn’t believe in him and that had left no room for emotional entanglements that might have hindered his race for his first million, then the next and the next.

  Eloise handed him the launcher. He looked down at Daisy. ‘Do you want your ball?’ The dog yapped her assent, her eyes following the ball. Josh was determined to throw it as far and fast as he could. For the dog’s enjoyment, of course. Not just to impress Eloise with a testosterone-fuelled show of strength.

  The ball flew across the width of the park and Daisy scampered after it. ‘She’s loving it,’ said Eloise, clapping her hands in enthusiasm. ‘I could never throw the ball that far.’

  The little dog ran back, ball triumphantly in her mouth. She paused, her eyes going from Josh to her foster mother. Then she deposited it at Josh’s feet, sat and looked up at him. He felt curiously moved by the gesture. Eloise’s eyes were misty and her voice unsteady. ‘That’s really something. Thank you. I never thought she’d trust a man with her precious ball.’

  He had to clear his throat. ‘Shall I throw it again?’

  ‘Please,’ she said.

  Josh threw the ball and again the little dog brought it back to him. Only this time she came back via the muddy area around the doggy watering station. Her paws were dark with mud, and before Josh could stop her she jumped up and streaked mud on his biscuit-coloured linen trousers.

  ‘Daisy! No!’ Eloise took hold of her dog’s harness and gently tugged her down. ‘I’m sorry. She didn’t mean to make that mess,’ she said to Josh.

  ‘Of course she didn’t,’ he said. He patted Daisy to show there were no hard feelings. She smiled her doggy smile.

  ‘I hope she hasn’t ruined your trousers.’ Eloise had a small handbag crossed over her shoulder. She burrowed into it and pulled out a handful of tissues. ‘Take these. They’re clean. Might get the worst off. You can’t use a wet cloth on mud; water makes it worse.’

  He took the tissues and wiped the surface dirt off his trousers. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It’s just mud.’

  ‘I know about fabrics. That’s very good linen. Mud can stain. Of course, I’ll pay for your trousers to be dry cleaned. Or replaced if you can’t get the stain out.’

  ‘There’s no need. Really. I have other trousers.’ He’d have them dry cleaned at the hotel. If the mud stained, he’d throw them out. It would be worth it for the story he’d tell Tori. She loved a good dog story.

  ‘I insist.’

  ‘I refuse.’

  ‘So we’ve reached an impasse,’ she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  ‘It appears so,’ he said.

  ‘Can I at least buy you a coffee? Daisy and I usually go for coffee at a dog-friendly café further up in the park and we’re heading that way now. Would you like to join us?’

  Josh didn’t hesitate. The dog had decided this course of action and this was a better way to make contact with Eloise than he could ever have engineered himself. Thank you, Daisy.

  ‘I’d like that very much,’ he said.

  Copyright © 2021 by Kandy Shepherd

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  ISBN-13: 9781488073748

  Unmasking the Secret Prince

  Copyright © 2021 by Rebecca Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Rebecca Winters, Unmasking the Secret Prince

 

 

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