Lady And The Scamp: Lady And The Scamp / The Doctor Dilemma

“But you do have a hunk, remember? Or has your insignificant other finally given up on the ice maiden who won’t share his bed, or accept his proposal to become Mrs. Mark Winston?”

At the mention of Mark Winston’s name, Cassie grabbed her friend’s arm and stared in disbelief at Dee’s fancy Lady Rolex watch. “Damn! Mark’s supposed to pick me up in less than an hour, Dee. I’m supposed to attend one of those stupid fund-raisers with him at noon.”

“I know you say you aren’t in love with Mark, Cassie, and even if Lenora did handpick him as your perfect mate, you have to admit he’s a very ambitious man. Assistant D.A. now. Senator Mark Winston tomorrow. You could have a great life playing hostess in Washington to all those dignitaries from around the world.”

Ignoring Dee’s boring assessment of Mark Winston’s credentials, Cassie blew a kiss toward the little strumpet in the crate. “Take care of Duchess, Dee,” Cassie called over her shoulder as she ran from the room. “I’ll see you Monday when the Brits arrives. And once this is all over I want you to send Nick Hardin a huge bill for your services.”

WHEN CASSIE TURNED INTO her driveway thirty minutes later, Mark Winston was standing on her front porch with a scowl on his face. Looking down over the top of his designer glasses, her insignificant other, as Dee called him, reminded Cassie of a disapproving schoolmaster waiting for a tardy student.

Forcing a smile she certainly didn’t feel, Cassie stepped from the car, aware that Mark’s scowl quickly changed to a look of total shock when he noticed her untidy appearance. “What’s going on, Cassandra?” he demanded, glancing at his watch as if God had suddenly appointed him official time-keeper. “You aren’t even ready and it’s time to leave.”

Cassie walked past Mark as he stated the obvious, deciding she preferred extensive root canal therapy to sitting through another luncheon while Mark made a boring speech. “I’m sorry, Mark, but you’ll have to go without me,” she said over her shoulder as she entered the house. “Not that you bothered to ask, but I’ve had an emergency this morning.”

Having entered the foyer behind her, most women’s version of “tall, dark and handsome” followed Cassie down the hallway. When he marched into the Collinses’ rambling kitchen, he removed the jacket of his expensive Italian suit, slung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, then stood with his hands at his waist, waiting for an explanation. Cassie could see the crisp cut of his freshly starched Brooks Brothers shirt from the corner of her eye, but she continued to ignore him while she poured herself a much-needed glass of iced tea.

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense, Cassandra. What was the big emergency?”

Mark’s insistence on always using her formal name, the way her mother did, had the same effect on Cassie as hearing fingernails scrape down a blackboard. Feeling like a child being interrogated by an angry parent, she whirled around and said, “I’ll tell you what the big emergency was, Mark. A mongrel dog from hell dug his way under the fence and seduced Duchess this morning before I could even swallow my first sip of coffee.”

“And?” he exploded.

Bracing herself to keep from grabbing Mark by his two-hundred-dollar tie and tightening the knot until his eyes bulged, Cassie answered through clenched teeth, “And, after I rescued Duchess, I tracked down the dog’s owner and gave him a huge piece of my mind. And then I had to take Duchess to Dee’s office to have her examined.”

Mark frowned, mulling over her words. “You said you gave him a huge piece of your mind. I certainly hope you haven’t said something to offend anyone in the neighborhood, Cassandra. Your father has personally introduced me to everyone in Biltmore Forest and you know I’m depending on every vote I can get when I run for office this fall.”

“Believe me, Mark, Father didn’t introduce you to this joker. It was Biltmore Forest’s biggest outcast, Nick Hardin.”

“Nick Hardin?” Mark repeated, his dark brows knitting in a frown.

“Yes, Nick Hardin. Like I said, I’ve already given him a huge piece of my mind, and if Duchess turns up pregnant, I’m going to sue that worthless…”

“And you went to Nick Hardin’s looking like that?” Mark interrupted, letting his eyes travel over Cassie’s under-clothed body. “Good grief, Cassie. I’m surprised he didn’t drag you into the bushes and ravish you the same way his dog did Duchess.”

Cassie met Mark’s cold stare, unimpressed with his attitude or with his sudden show of jealousy. “Is it some written rule that a man starts thinking with his family jewels the second the woman he’s dating comes in contact with another man?” she demanded.

Mark’s face reddened. “Well, how do you expect me to react when you go traipsing off to some hoodlum’s house looking like the current playmate of the month?”

When Cassie refused to answer, Mark eventually broke the silence. Using a much softer tone he said, “Look, I don’t like the idea of you living in the same neighborhood as an outlaw like Nick Hardin, much less you showing up at his house in that outfit. He’s trouble, Cassandra. Leave him alone.”

And he’s also gorgeous, Cassie thought to herself as the memory of her neighbor’s tight naked buns flashed through her mind. When she noticed Mark glance at his watch again, she said, “You’d better go, Mark. You’ll be late for your speech.”

“You know how important these functions are to my campaign,” Mark grumbled, unwilling to be dismissed without having the last word.

“Which is exactly why you should go,” Cassie told him. “It would take me at least another hour before I could be ready.”

Mark’s jaw muscles tightened as he sent her a scathing look. “Did it ever occur to you that I deserved the simple courtesy of a phone call, Cassandra?” he asked, his temper flaring again. “Who knows? Maybe I would have asked someone else to the luncheon. You obviously forgot all about me the second you had the opportunity to show up on Nick Hardin’s doorstep practically naked.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mark, you’re blowing this out of proportion and you know it,” Cassie snapped back. “And excuse me for having the misguided notion that I meant a little more to you than just some warm body sitting at your elbow when you took the podium.”

Mark glared back at her, then ran a hand through his dark, perfectly groomed hair. “You are special, and you know it,” he mumbled halfheartedly. “Maybe I would feel more secure if you were willing to make a commitment.”

Cassie stared at the man who was her grandfather’s senatorial protegé and her mother’s answer to who’s who on the social roster. “I’ve told you a million times, Mark, when I decide to accept a marriage proposal, it will be based on love. Not because it will benefit my future husband’s political career.”

Mark frowned, but he didn’t deny her accusation. “Well, it certainly won’t benefit my career or my campaign if word gets out that my girlfriend is hanging around with a bum like Nick Hardin.”

“Why on earth are you so obsessed with Nick Hardin?”

“I told you. He’s trouble. Surely you aren’t naive enough to think he won’t have a field day with your tirade about this dog problem on his damn radio program, Cassandra. I can’t afford a scandal like that this close to election, and you know it. Maybe you should call him and apologize.”

“I’ll do no such thing!”

Mark’s face turned crimson. “Listen, Cassandra, either you apologize to that idiot and head off the obvious disaster you’ll face if you go to war with him, or you can forget about me. It’s up to you. Make your choice now.”

Cassie felt every drop of blood in her body drain to her feet. “If Duchess does turn up with a litter of unregistered puppies, Mark, I will sue Nick Hardin for damages, campaign or no campaign. So, you make the choice now.”

Grabbing his jacket from the kitchen chair, Mark sent her a final disapproving look. “Remember, this was your call, Cassandra.”

“No, this is your loss, you self-centered…” Cassie groped for the right word as Mark stormed out of the room. “Politician!” she finally screamed, but her brave words rang hollow when she heard the front door slam in the distance.

Kicking the refrigerator, which only resulted in scraping the bare toes her sandal left exposed, Cassie let out a yelp, then limped to the kitchen table and, with an exasperated sigh, flopped down in one of the chairs. As amazing as it seemed, only twenty-four hours ago Cassie thought she had the entire world by the tail. Who would have guessed that the wag of a particular little tail would turn her world upside down?

In the short span of one morning, she’d allowed a priceless show dog to do the wild thing with a mutt straight out of the garbage heap. She’d practically been arrested for making crank calls to the security police. And now she had willingly liberated her mother’s idea of the perfect husband to go off and find a more suitable mate.

Well, that’s two major strikes against me as far as Mother is concerned, Cassie thought. First Duchess, and now Mark.

The disastrous turn of events would certainly be good for at least one month of sickbed silence from her mother. And though Cassie should have been near tears, oddly, she wasn’t. In fact, the insane irony of the situation actually struck her funny. She had separated Duchess from her boyfriend, and now Duchess had indirectly returned the favor.

Letting out a long sigh, Cassie rolled her head from side to side, trying to loosen the huge knot of tension that was now trapped between her neck and her shoulders. Praying that a hot shower might relieve at least the muscle-related part of her problem, Cassie started for her bedroom on the second floor. She had just reached the kitchen door when the shrill sound of the telephone sounded through the room.

Deciding it was Mark, calling from his cell phone to apologize, Cassie let the phone ring several times. An apology from Mark was the last thing she wanted. In fact, Cassie didn’t want Mark period. Although her mother had visions of monogrammed towels and dirty diapers where she and Mark were concerned, Cassie had known from the beginning she would never let things go beyond dating with Mark. She had only kept up the pretense to keep Lenora off her back.

After the fifth ring, Cassie answered the kitchen extension, prepared to tell Mark it was definitely over between them. Instead, she almost dropped the receiver when a familiar voice floated over the line.

“Look, counselor, I know we both got a little hostile earlier, but I’m sure this is something we can settle over a chilled bottle of wine and a sensible conversation. How about eight o’clock? Your place or mine?”

Cassie was dumbfounded. “You have to be the most arrogant, insufferable man I’ve ever met,” Cassie informed him.

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” Nick agreed, “but you’re the one who said we had a problem to solve. I’m just suggesting that we settle things in a much more pleasant atmosphere than a courtroom.”

Cassie laughed in spite of herself as a vision of Nick Hardin ushering dozens of women into his “much more pleasant atmosphere” danced through her mind. “Oh, I’m sure you handle all of your problems with a bottle of chilled wine and a sensual conversation, Mr. Hardin….”

“I said sensible conversation.”

“But we both know you meant sensual, don’t we?” Cassie chided.

When Nick didn’t answer, Cassie added, “I left Duchess with the vet earlier, but it’ll take several weeks before the vet can determine if she’s pregnant.”

“And then what?” Nick quizzed.

“Then you can save yourself a lot of trouble and pay for the damages your dog caused, or we can settle this in court.”

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you, counselor?”

“What do you think?” Cassie challenged.

He laughed. “Lady, I think if you’d let nature take its course the way your fancy show dog did, you’d have a much better outlook on life.”

NICK JERKED THE RECEIVER away from his ear when she slammed down the phone, breaking their connection. Chuckling to himself, he tried to imagine the flustered look on her perfect face, but his thoughts eventually switched to more important details. Details like whether or not she was still wearing those Daisy Dukes that had driven him crazy.

Tossing the phone on the cushion beside him, he stretched out his long legs and leaned back on the sofa with his hands clasped behind his head. He hadn’t really expected the enraged Miss Collins to accept his offer, but he couldn’t resist calling the sexy wench, if only to rattle her chain a little. After all, this was the second time Cassandra Collins had gotten in his face. First with her complaint about his lawyer jokes, and now by storming into his life making threats about suing him over some stupid show dog.

Glancing back at the notepad in his lap, Nick looked over the composite of information he’d been able to collect on the feisty female only minutes after she’d left him standing in a cloud of dust in his driveway. A single phone call to one of his buddies at the Asheville-Citizen Times had given him all the information he needed.

According to his buddy, the dog actually belonged to a Mrs. Lenora Collins, the attorney’s mother. The guy also knew enough about the Collins family to give Nick the full scoop. Cassandra Collins was the only child of parents who both came from old money, born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth. Her maternal grandfather, now deceased, had been a respected judge. Her paternal grandfather was a retired United States senator, still alive and still very active in politics.

After graduating at the top of her class from the University of North Carolina, the lovely Miss Collins had returned home to Asheville and joined her father at the family firm of Collins and Collins. Without a doubt, the pretty lady’s pedigree was every bit as impressive as the silly dog she was so upset about. Nick pored over the rest of her vital statistics, which included everything from her age to the fact that she was currently dating the assistant district attorney.

He kept telling himself that he was only interested in the information because the legal barracuda might possibly hit him with the ridiculous lawsuit she was threatening. And despite the hassle it would cause him, Nick wished the lovely lady would make that silly mistake. After all, his syndicated radio program did have the ears of thousands of listeners who thrived on controversy. Taking her down a peg or two over the air would be fairly simple. Unless, of course, those long tanned legs of hers kept turning up in his memory to interfere with his usual killer instincts.

She was definitely attractive. No, when he thought about it, she was downright beautiful. But she was also the epitome of everything Nick didn’t want in a woman. He would never settle down with some hoity-toity socialite, any more than he would marry some career-driven female who would probably refuse to share his last name.

And especially not a woman who had chosen law as her profession.

His own mother’s obsession with her career had been responsible for making Nick gun-shy where career-oriented women were concerned. Her preference for a career over being a wife and mother had resulted in a nasty divorce between his parents when Nick was only ten. He’d been bounced back and forth between his parents until he turned sixteen and put an end to the madness himself. It was the endless steam of court battles that had fueled Nick’s hatred for the legal profession. Even the superb strawberry-blonde who was threatening to sue him now didn’t change Nick’s opinion that greed, more often than justice, was the main reason most people embraced the law as their chosen profession.

Letting out a loud groan when Earl sailed through the air and landed in the middle of his stomach, Nick wrestled the squeaky toy away from his playful partner, then tossed it to the far end of the room. After pulling himself up from the sofa, he strolled through the patio doors, then slumped into one of the deck chairs scattered around the pool.

“If you end up being a daddy, Earl, we’ll have one hell of a fight on our hands,” Nick told his faithful companion when Earl returned with his squeaky toy and nuzzled against Nick’s hand.

But even as Nick sat in the afternoon sun planning his defense strategy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his perceptive sixth sense was somehow alerting him to danger. Could matching wits with the leggy lawyer be menacing enough to trip his intuitive powers?

Possibly.

And in more ways than he cared to admit.

3

TO CASSIE’S HORROR, the scheduled rendezvous with the expensive English prince from London was a total calamity. Not only would Duchess not let the courtly stud get near her, she also bit the yapping powder puff squarely on his royal nose, prompting his snooty owner to threaten a lawsuit of his own. Thankfully, when Cassie upped the already preposterous stud fee, which had to be paid whether the dogs mated or not, she’d managed to calm the man’s ruffled feathers.

Now the only hurdle that remained was the ultrasound Dee was going to perform to see if Earl had been successful in making Duchess a mommy.

Forcing thoughts of fleeing to South America from her mind, Cassie reluctantly handed her keys to the valet parking attendant at Asheville’s impressive Grove Park Inn. The last thing she’d wanted to do that evening was attend the annual fund-raiser for the local historical society. Especially since Mark Winston would be there in all his glory with his new lady on his arm.

Cassie’s pride, however, wouldn’t allow her to stay at home. She knew the rumors would be bad enough if she made an appearance. But if she stayed away, she figured she would forever be dubbed as “the idiot who let Mark Winston get away.”

Crossing the lobby, Cassie took a deep breath before stepping into the large ballroom that was housing the charitable event. As luck would have it, the first person she saw was Evelyn Van Arbor, Asheville’s biggest gossip.

Hurrying to the cocktail bar on the far side of the room, Cassie purposely ignored the old snoop, and thought she’d been successful until the woman’s shrill voice rang out behind her.

“Cassandra, darling. Wait up.”

Steeling herself, Cassie turned to face the blue-haired piranha, knowing Evelyn would feast on her every word. After the old woman kissed the air on both sides of Cassie’s face, Cassie said, “You look glamorous as usual, Evelyn.”

“And so do you, dear,” Evelyn gushed, then added, “I can’t tell you how delighted I am that you decided to come, Cassandra. I was afraid you’d let this horrible misfortune with Mark Winston turn you into a bitter recluse.”

It took all of her composure, but Cassie managed a smile. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Evelyn.”

The woman patted Cassie’s shoulder sympathetically. “You don’t have to act so brave with me, you poor little thing. Mark’s an idiot. And you’re so much prettier than that flighty Dianna Nugent.”

Cassie’s smile was now so forced it threatened to make huge cracks in both sides of her face. “I know there’s been a lot of speculation about me and Mark the last few months, Evelyn, but we’ve never been anything more than good friends. I assure you, I couldn’t be happier for both of them.”

“Oh, you’re much too gracious for your own good,” Evelyn complained as she nodded toward Mark and Dianna, who were twirling around the dance floor. “Besides,” she whispered, leaning close enough to make Cassie nauseous from her overpowering perfume, “Dianna’s father might be a doctor, but he isn’t a good doctor, judging from the malpractice suits that have been filed against him. Mark would have been better off staying with you, where he belonged. At least your father and your grandfather share his interests in politics.”

Cassie started to comment, but froze when a pair of black eyes she hadn’t counted on seeing at the fund-raiser locked with her own. As if her evening hadn’t started out badly enough, she now found Nick Hardin standing at the opposite end of the bar.

Her heart skipped a beat when he sent her a cordial nod, then graciously lifted his glass in her direction, offering a toast. God, please don’t let him come over here, she prayed silently, then quickly dismissed him by turning her back.

Aware that her hands were shaking when she accepted a glass of champagne from the attentive bartender, Cassie swallowed most of the expensive liquid in one easy gulp, then reluctantly turned her attention back to the lesser of two evils. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. What was your question again?”

“I asked what part of Europe your parents were touring now?”

Before Cassie could answer, the old woman leaned forward and grabbed her arm. “Don’t look now, but that horrible Nick Hardin is headed our way. I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up here, can you? Especially after that episode at the country club. Why, the very nerve of him riding his filthy motorcycle up on the country club lawn and parking—”

“Good evening, ladies,” Nick interrupted, silencing Evelyn Van Arbor’s rant.

Cassie took a deep breath, reluctantly turning around to face Nick. Immediately, she felt her knees buckle. Dressed in a snazzy designer tux with his shoulder-length hair slicked back in a perfect Steven Segal queue at his nape, he looked like a cross between Cinderella’s Prince Charming and a modern-day action hero. And despite her first impulse, which was to punch him in the nose for the lewd comment he’d made on the telephone about “letting nature take its course,” he was so wickedly handsome Cassie wasn’t sure she could trust herself in his presence.

Ignoring the cold reception he was receiving from the upper-crust matriarch standing beside her, Nick nodded a cordial greeting to Evelyn, then openly appraised the strapless black cocktail dress that fit Cassie like a second skin.

“You certainly look ravishing tonight, counselor,” he drawled in his deep, honey-smooth voice.

The fact that he was openly undressing her with his eyes while a room full of her peers looked on made Cassie curse herself for giving into a whim and wearing the extremely short frock that was capturing his attention. She’d only worn the stupid thing because Mark detested her in anything flashy. Now it seemed her silly attempt at revenge on Mark had ultimately backfired in her face.

When his eyes left her cleavage long enough to look her in the face, he asked, “How about a spin around the dance floor, counselor? It is, after all, for a very noble cause.”

“I’d rather walk barefoot on hot coals, Mr. Hardin,” Cassie assured him through clenched teeth.

She’d meant to insult him, but instead he laughed good-naturedly at her rebuff, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, you can’t blame a guy for wanting at least one dance with the sexiest lady in the room, can you?”

“Of all the nerve…” gasped Evelyn Van Arbor.

Cassie ignored the old snob’s outburst and sent Nick a lethal look that said “go away.” It was bad enough that everyone in the room was already buzzing about Mark throwing her over for Dianna Nugent. But if the elite of Asheville caught her conversing with the devil himself, she knew the rumors would take on a whole new life of their own.

When she sent him another frosty glare, it seemed to do the trick. Nick smiled, made a cordial little bow, then said, “Since it’s obvious I can’t interest you in a dance, then I’ll do the honorable thing and clear the way for someone you might find more suitable.”

When Cassie refused to comment, Nick sent her another mocking grin. “Have a nice evening, ladies.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Cassie feeling extremely guilty. Especially since he’d been so gracious when she’d purposely tried to embarrass him. Normally, she wouldn’t have acted so rude, but her gut instinct told her it was safer if Nick Hardin thought she was a kindred spirit to the mass of insufferable snobs who were gathered together for the evening. The taunting look in his sultry black eyes told Cassie he already knew she found him attractive. And she did. Even though they were complete opposites.