THE SUCCESSOR

The first time Kate Thurlow laid eyes on Marine Sergeant Grant Jones, he was in a jail cell, had a bruise on his perfect jaw, and was pacing in the holding cage like a panther. His cellmates were huddled up in a corner, trying to stay as far away from the combat-hardened marine as possible.

Kate walked up to the cop behind the desk at the Barton police station. She had the office of the senator of Missouri's number all ready to go in her phone and was prepared to unleash hell to get billionaire Walker Holbrook's heir out of jail. Her boss would not be pleased with her if his newly found son, who had been given up for adoption when he was an infant, was stuck in prison for the next ten years. As Walter Holbrook's executive assistant, Kate was authorized to bring his only living child back to Connecticut by any means necessary. The mayor of this small town was up for reelection in the fall and wanted to cement her legacy. Kate was prepared to write a very generous donation check on behalf of Mr. Holbrook.

"Can I help you, miss?" the cop asked her. He was a large, sweaty middle-aged man, and he noisily ate a sandwich that was dripping all over his uniform. Kate gave him her best smile.

"I'm just here for him." She indicated the marine in the cell. Grant glared out through the metal bars at her. He looked angry and dangerous.

"The judge is on lunch break," the officer said. "He's not hearing cases until this afternoon."

Kate silently cursed the laid-back attitude of small towns.

"I'm sure this was all a misunderstanding," she said, trying to project innocence. "Surely we can work something out. Grant did four combat deployments and is a decorated war hero—he earned a Medal of Honor for his service."

The cop did not look as impressed as Kate hoped he would. Figured.

"I'm only on guard duty, miss. I can't make these sorts of decisions," the officer said with a sigh.

"I understand. Maybe I can speak to someone who can make these decisions?"

The officer looked thoughtful. "The chief, but he's—"

"On lunch break," Kate finished for him. The officer nodded and took another bite of his sandwich.

"Hey!" Grant called, his voice carrying over. "You. Lady. You work for my birth father?"

"Yes," she replied.

"I need you to sign my dog out of the pound. They took him, and someone is going to steal him. I'm not leaving without him."

"You! No talking!" the officer scolded.

"Where do they take the animals you all pick up?" Kate asked him. "I'll go grab his dog while we wait for the police chief to return."

"I'm already here," said a gruff voice. It belonged to a large man with an impressive mustache who was entering the police-station holding area.

"Katherine Thurlow," Kate introduced herself. "I work for Sergeant Jones's father. I've been sent to collect him."

"And my dog!" Grant yelled.

"And the dog. Surely this was a simple misunderstanding. A fight in the parking lot—is that right? Boys will be boys," she said with an airy laugh.

The police chief was not amused. "He beat a man almost to death."

"Sir!" A female detective ran into the room.

"Yes? What is it?"

"We have an ID on the victim of the beating in the Walmart parking lot." She looked askance at Kate, who feigned disinterest.

"He's our person of interest in the Neely abduction," the detective continued.

"Oh?" Kate said.

"A man in a pickup truck tried to abduct a toddler while her mom was ordering coffee," the detective explained. "He tried to snatch her right out of the cafe. He's probably the same man that abducted that other little girl—"

"That's enough!" the chief barked. "Ms. Thurlow, was it? Your marine needs to be processed. I suggest you come back tomorrow about him. The judge goes golfing on Tuesday, and I highly doubt he will see the case."

"I see," Kate said and marched out.

As she was leaving, Grant called after her, "My dog, he's a corgi. His name is Gus."

"No yelling in my lockup!" the police chief bellowed as Kate walked out of the police station, heels clicking on the terrazzo floor of the historic building.

"I tried to do this the easy way, but you all didn't want to cooperate, so now we aren't playing nice anymore," she said under her breath. Then she began to call people—powerful people. The first call was to the law firm that represented the Holbrook family. The next was to the senior Missouri senator's office.

"Yes, you heard me correctly," she said to the senator's chief of staff. "Mr. Holbrook's son apprehended a wanted child kidnapper, and now's he's being persecuted for it. He's a combat veteran and a Medal of Honor recipient. I agree it's disgraceful. Yes, my next call is to the media. Yes, do call the mayor. I'm sure she would love to hear about this."

The news media was very interested in the story when she called the major networks. It had been a slow news week, and they were looking for any incident that could be milked for ratings. Finally, she called the rental company to come pick up Grant's car and authorized a hefty surcharge for their trouble.

Pleased that the big guns were being swung in the direction of the town of Barton, her next order of business was the dog. Grant's file didn't mention anything about a corgi, and she should know—she had put together the dossier on Grant for Mr. Holbrook. The East Coast billionaire and his then-girlfriend and now soon-to-be-ex-wife Danielle had given up their infant son for adoption. This occurred years before Jack and Walter Holbrook made it big investing their father's modest fortune in buying industrial, logistics, and technology companies and turning them into a profitable corporation.

Though she had known the Holbrooks for years, Kate had only started working as his executive assistant a few months before his separation from his wife. In the aftermath of the family tragedy later that same year, Walter relied on and confided in Kate. His estate neighbored her grandmother's house in the same posh town of New Cardiff, Connecticut, and she and her grandmother practically lived at the Holbrook estate when Walter was in the worst stages of grief.

Kate enjoyed working for Walter. He believed in treating people with respect and holding them to high standards, and the results spoke for themselves in his eleven-figure net worth. He did not mention to her that he had a son floating around, however. It wasn't until a few months after the tragedy that he had confided in her and begged her to find the lost child. And Kate had found him.

Grant had joined the Marine Corps as soon as he turned eighteen. Besides his adoptive parents, he didn't seem to have a lot of ties left to Missouri, though he was in jail there now. He had fought in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria. Most impressively, he had earned a Medal of Honor for fighting off insurgents trying to drag off a wounded Marine. During the incident, he had been shot five times in the body armor, run out of bullets, and ended up beating one of the fighters to death with his rifle. Message boards about it said that his actions were suicidally crazy. People were stunned he wasn't killed.

Kate had watched the body cam footage on live leak, and it was a sight to behold. She had no doubt that Grant had done a lot of damage to the alleged child abductor in the Walmart parking lot. But she couldn't spend any more time musing about Grant. She needed to find the dog. Walter wanted no expense spared to make sure his son was happy and would settle in New Cardiff and work at his company. Not finding this dog was not an option.

Kate jumped in her rental and followed the GPS to the county pound. Walking in, she was met with the furious barking of hundreds of dogs.

"How can we help you?" asked a man in rubber coveralls.

"I'm here looking for my boyfriend's corgi. I believe the police brought him in here. He goes by the name Gus."

"Do you have a picture?" the dog-pound worker asked.

"Unfortunately not. The police confiscated the phone with the pictures," Kate lied. She wished this were Nairobi or Moscow. Then she could simply bribe the man. But in America, people didn't know what to do with a bribe, so she tried to look innocent and unassuming.

The worker looked at her critically, took in her expensive suit, designer shoes, and ten-thousand-dollar handbag. Then he went to the back and returned with the fattest, roundest corgi puppy Kate had ever seen.

"Hi, Gus Gus!" she cooed. The dog immediately ran to her as if he'd known her his whole life.

"Thank you. That will be twenty dollars for boarding fee."

"Of course," Kate said smoothly. "Do you take credit?"

 "Nope, cash only."

She handed the man a twenty and picked up Gus to take him outside.

"Grant is going to be so happy to see you," she told him. Gus barked. Deciding that she had allowed enough time for higher powers to start twisting the screws on the small-town government, Kate drove back to the police station. She walked back into the building, Gus tucked into an extra bag.

"Just seeing if there is any progress," she said to the officer. He was eating a bag of chips and turned to look at his computer. Kate took the opportunity to pull Gus out of the bag and hold him up to show Grant. He smiled when he saw the puppy. The grin lit up his face and formed dimples on his cheeks.

"No dogs," the officer said.

"I thought I told you not to be here," the police chief said, coming up behind her.

Just then, a plump woman in a suit turned the corner. She was flanked by security guards and several other important-looking people.

"And why isn't she allowed here, Chief Miller?"

"Mayor," the police chief said smartly.

"Sergeant Jones is a war hero," the mayor said. She looked down her nose at the police chief, and he seemed to shrink under her gaze.

Kate silently laughed.

"Furthermore," the mayor continued, "I hear he captured that child snatcher that has been terrorizing the town. I have the senator calling my office, and all the major news networks are camped out in the town square. Who knows how they even got here that quickly. And now it has come to my attention that you have a hero locked up here like a criminal. Let him out. Now."

Grant smirked at the officer that let him out of the cell. When the police had dragged him into the station, they told him that he was going to prison for a long time. Then Kate appeared like an angel, sent by his birth father. And she rescued Gus! Grant appreciated someone who solved problems efficiently.

"Thank you for your service," the mayor said, shaking his hand.

"I'm sure this was all a big misunderstanding," Kate told her.

"Absolutely. Just so that everyone else knows it, we have a press conference scheduled in an hour. I'm sure Sergeant Jones would be happy to explain the situation." She looked at Kate and Grant meaningfully.

"Of course he would," Kate replied.

Grant nodded.

The pair settled down on a bench while the news media and the mayor's aides scurried around, setting up a lectern and microphones for the press conference. Grant pulled Gus out of the bag. The corgi yipped and licked his face. Grant set him down and batted him around playfully.

"Who's the best puppy in the whole world?" Grant said, laughing as Gus tripped over his short legs while trying to jump up on him.

The puppy wagged his tail at Kate, but she excused herself, explaining, "I need to call off the lawyers."

Grant watched Kate out of the corner of his eye. She was pretty—slightly curvy, not a lot of makeup—and she smelled good. It wasn't like a heavy perfume, just a clean scent. She was nothing like the girls he was used to in the Marines, the ones with too much cheap makeup and trashy clothes, who were only looking to score their very own hero husband and the basic allowance for housing that came along with him. Kate didn't seem like that at all. She didn't give off desperate vibes, just a calm, competent professionalism.

Kate returned to the bench and pulled a wet wipe out of her bag and proceeded to clean off his face. "You can't go in front of the cameras looking like that," she told him.

"You don't think the blood and dirt gives me a sort of rakish charm?" he joked and gave her a grin.

She gave him a small smile. She was very close to him as she carefully cleaned his face. Grant suppressed a shiver as her manicured nails brushed his lips as she carefully dabbed at a cut on his cheek.

"Well, that will have to do," she said, adjusting the collar of his uniform.

"Are you ready, Sergeant?" the mayor asked.

Gus still tucked under his arm, Grant followed her to the lectern.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, members of the press," the mayor began. "Today, I have called a brief press conference to clear up some rumors and confusion surrounding Sergeant Grant Jones. First, I would like to commend Sergeant Jones on his service to our country."

Grant tried not to roll his eyes as the mayor went on her spiel about how great he was and how he had brought the same level of character used on the battlefield to the little town of Barton. If only they knew.

"And now this would-be child abductor is off the street," the mayor concluded. "The police are currently investigating other cases he may have been involved in. I'm sure Sergeant Jones would be happy to give his side of the story and answer any question you may have. Sergeant Jones, everyone." She stepped back and led a round of applause.

Grant stepped up to the lectern and cleared his throat. "Good afternoon." He focused on the comforting weight of his lucky watch on his wrist and tried to project confidence.

Gus, still tucked under his arm, gave a yip. The members of the press laughed and said, "Aww."

"Thank you for taking the time to be here," Grant began. "The only reason I crossed paths with Tedson was because of Gus. I was returning from visiting my adoptive parents, and there was a pickup truck driving erratically in front of me. The car stopped and dumped a dog out of the truck." He held up Gus. "The little guy ran furiously after the car. I stopped and chased around after him for a bit. It felt a little bit like being a drill instructor chasing after the boots."

Grant smiled and earned a laugh out of the press. "The pup thought it was a game, I think. I finally caught him, and we stopped at the nearby Walmart. I was going to pick up some food and a crate for Gus, then I saw Tedson, and I just lost it. I have fought on four combat tours, just returned from Syria. I was so sick and tired of bad people getting away with stuff. I did attack him—I'm not going to lie—but I don't regret it a bit. As the fantastic mayor of Barton has informed me, Tedson was a no-count criminal. Someone who tries to abduct kids and dumps puppies on the side of the road deserves what they get, I say."

"Hear! Hear!" shouted one of the cops in the crowd.

"There's a saying," Grant continued, "that all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. I feel like I did my part here today." The press broke out in applause. "Any questions?" Grant asked.

"You returned from Syria only three days ago," one reporter said. "Is this how you thought you would be spending your first few days back home?"

Grant laughed and ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair. "No, ma'am, this was not how I expected it to go. Though I will say being in a jail cell is actually a lot more relaxing than chasing after the terrorists and dodging rockets." That earned him another chuckle from the press.

"What are your plans for the future?" another reporter asked.

"I'm looking to get out of the military, maybe go to college, find a girl, and finally settle down. Definitely spoil Gus."

The puppy gave a small bark.

"You've certainly earned it," the mayor said, applauding, then she took back the microphone. "We here in Barton want to thank Sergeant Jones for all he's done for our town and, more importantly, for our country."

Resisting the urge to gag, Grant leaned over the lectern microphone and said, "Thank you, Mayor, and don't forget to vote in the upcoming election!" He winked.

The crowd chuckled.

The mayor said with a laugh, "I did not tell him to say that!"

Grant smiled at her and gave her a hug. The press took pictures. Finally, when he had finished shaking hands, the police gave him his bags back.

"Ready to go?" Kate asked him.

Grant yawned.

"I need to take back my rental car," he told her.

"Already taken care of," she replied. "Your father has told me to make sure you have everything you need."

"Is that so?" Grant said and followed her to the BMW. They drove through the small town, out to a private airfield.

I didn't even know this was here, Grant thought. It was as if a whole other world existed parallel to the one where he had lived in a tiny cinder-block house with his adoptive parents.

"Wow," he said as they drove right up onto the airstrip. There was a Gulfstream jet, all black, parked on the runway. Grant could tell his mouth was hanging open in surprise, and he shut it but couldn't keep his eyes from bugging out.

"This is one of the smaller and older of Mr. Holbrook's—your father's—planes. He has a fleet. The nicer one is in the shop currently, so unfortunately, we have to take this one."

"This seems fine to me," Grant said.

One of the flight attendants, wearing an impeccably tailored suit, descended the staircase.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Holbrook," he said.

Grant was taken aback. "Oh no, it's Jones," he corrected him.

"Of course," the man said. "My apologies."

"You'll be a Holbrook soon," Kate told him with a smile.

Grant didn't know what to think about that. He had been Jones his entire life. Except that he had been adopted, so maybe Jones wasn't really his name and Holbrook was. He shook his head. He was too tired for this. He just wanted to sleep. He followed Kate up the stairs into the plane.

"Good night," he murmured. The interior of the plane had deep, creamy leather seats. There were black and brass accents on the tables and wall moldings that were punctuated by large round windows. Grant hugged Gus closer to his chest, suddenly self-conscious about his disheveled uniform. His stay in the jail cell hadn't done it any favors, either.

"Have a seat," Kate said to him.

"Do you have a towel or anything to sit on?" he asked desperately. He didn't want to ruin the light-colored leather with his filthy uniform.

She raised a perfect eyebrow and quirked her mouth. He couldn't help but stare. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He tried to shake off the feeling. It was only because he had been in a war zone for the past eight months, surrounded by the smelliest, nastiest, filthiest Marines that side of the Atlantic. He was just latching onto the first pretty face he saw.

"Would a towel make you more comfortable?" she asked him.

He nodded, and she waved one of the flight attendants over, and he draped a blanket over the seat. It was probably the nicest blanket Grant had ever seen.

"I meant like an old towel," Grant said after a moment.

"This is all that we have, sir," the flight attendant said. "I'm very sorry."

"No, no," Grant said, "it's fine." He settled down gingerly, buckled his seat belt, and settled Gus on his lap.

"Good evening," the captain said over the intercom after they had taken off and were speeding through the air. "We are at a cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet. We will be reaching Westchester County Airport in approximately two hours."

But Grant didn't hear any of it. He was sound asleep.

Kate watched Grant sleep sprawled in the plush leather seat on the private jet. The corgi puppy was on his back in Grant's lap, his round belly rising and falling with every breath. Grant seemed so peaceful. The light from the setting sun accented the angles on his face. He had his father's cheekbones and jaw structure.

He also had his charisma. Kate was beyond impressed with his performance at the press conference. As she had been cleaning him up, she was silently strategizing how she would have to beg her contacts at the networks to spin the story in their favor. But Grant was a natural. He had had no prep and no debriefing. There hadn't been any time, and Kate didn't want to frazzle him and potentially make the situation worse. It was a gamble, but it had paid off—Grant had the press eating out of his hand.

She checked Twitter on her phone. Everyone was going crazy for the sergeant. The headlines read Marine Rescues Puppy and Medal of Honor Recipient Apprehends Child Kidnapper. She played the clips of the press conference. Grant came off as personable, strong, and authoritative. The press and blogosphere were falling over themselves to praise him.

And now he sleeps like a little kid, she thought. He had one hand curled around the dog, his large watch almost the same size as Gus's head.

Who dumps a corgi on the side of the road? Kate wondered. Oh, that's right—someone who abducts small children. Just for rescuing the corgi alone, she already liked Grant. She checked her phone. There was a message from Walter Holbrook.

Impressive performance by Grant today. I won't be in tonight, but I imagine seeing me for the first time since he was a baby would probably be too much for him, anyway. Get him settled and let him know I will be in for dinner with him tomorrow. Thank you, Kate. I couldn't do this without you.

Kate wrote back.

I've got you covered

She scrolled through more articles on the internet. Someone had even posted a video of Grant attacking Tedson in the parking lot. He moved like a fighter; he was what all those teenage boys on the internet wished they could be. There were already memes all over Reddit of the marine and his dog.

When you just want to play with your corgi but you have to save the world, read one meme that had taken a still from the footage of the fight. Gus was barking, and Grant stood like a superhero right after giving the knockout punch to Tedson, who was mid-fall to the pavement. There was also a Tumblr fan page set up, and the event was trending on Twitter.

"Well, he's officially viral," she said to herself.

Wendy, one of the flight attendants, came by with sparkling water and a cheese-and-fruit tray. She smiled as she saw the picture on Kate's phone. "You can't buy that kind of good publicity," she said softly. "Good thing he takes after his father, not his mother, eh?"

"Absolutely," Kate whispered back. "I think we dodged a bullet on this one."

"More like a nuclear bomb," countered the flight attendant.

She and Kate looked at Grant for a moment.

The flight attendant sighed. "If only I were ten years younger…"

"And not married!" Kate added with a small laugh.

The flight attendant gave her a playful shove.

"You should make a move. You could be the next Mrs. Holbrook. You guys would be perfect together. Besides," she said conspiratorially, "I think he really likes you."

Kate blushed. "I can't. I work for his father… and Grant now, technically. It's not right."

"I don't think Mr. Holbrook would mind. You come from a good family. You aren't some gold digger."

Kate shook her head. "No, I'll just keep to myself. Someone has to look after my grandmother."

Besides, she thought, I can't be trusted in a relationship. And if Grant or anyone else ever found out what happened in my past, it would destroy everything.

"Eat your snack," the flight attendant said, walking away. "We'll be landing soon."

It was evening when they reached Connecticut. Grant started when the wheels touched down on the ground. Gus barked as his owner looked around wild-eyed, breathing hard.

"It's okay," Kate said soothingly. "We've arrived."

Grant nodded silently.

"Here," Kate said as the plane taxied. "Drink some water." She cupped his chin and lifted the bottle of sparkling water to his lips. Grant sipped some as Kate petted his hair.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go home."

The flight attendant gave him a sympathetic smile.

Grant shook the captain's and copilot's hands as he exited the plane, saying, "Thank you."

"Take care," the captain said. "I was in the Air Force and flew over Afghanistan and Iraq. It gets easier. Just take it a day at a time."

"Yes, sir," Grant replied.

"Off we go," Kate said, taking Grant by the arm. "I'm sure all the events of the last couple days and returning home from your deployment is catching up to you. It's a half-hour drive to the house, and then you can take a shower and rest."

Grant barely registered the drive through the suburbs and small towns to the Holbrook estate in New Cardiff.

He got impressions of historic, well-kept, ornate buildings and elaborate estates, their lights distant through the carefully manicured landscapes and trees.

As they sped past one burned-out old mansion, he got a brief whiff of smoke, but he was too tired to wonder about it. Gus was energetic and upbeat, and he bounced from Grant's lap to Kate's to look out the windows and bark at the lights as they passed.

Finally, the car pulled up to a tall black gate. The security guard buzzed it open, and they went up a long, winding driveway lined by huge trees.

Grant whistled as they approached the house. Actually, it was more than a house—it was a mansion. The three-story stone building had a tall peaked roofline punctuated by dormers.

The car pulled up to the front of the house. Perfectly manicured bushes edged the walkway and stairs up to the arched arcade marking the front door. Grant was too in awe to feel out of place. Gus bounced around him in excitement at all the new smells. Grant opened the door, and the dog burst out and graced one of the bushes with his presence. In the distance, Grant saw other outbuildings. Perhaps a detached garage? What else would someone have on their land?

"This is a twenty-acre estate," Kate informed him. "It's large for this area. There is a pool, tennis courts, and a climate-controlled garage for Mr. Holbrook's antique car collection, plus another garage for everyday cars. There is also a stable for three horses. Tomorrow, I'll give you a full tour of the grounds. It's a really beautiful property. It was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted—he's the famous landscape architect who designed Central Park."

"Oh" was all Grant could say. He was still a bit in shock from all the wealth.

The feeling of being overwhelmed intensified when the butler ushered them through the largest front door Grant had seen outside of the military—and it was much nicer than any of those doors.

The foyer was a creamy white with large beams on the ceilings, arched doorways leading to various rooms and hallways, and rich, dark wooden floors. An ornate blown-glass chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the wall was a large portrait of a man Grant assumed was Walter Holbrook along with three young children, two girls and a boy. They were smiling broadly. They looked happy. Grant didn't think he ever looked that happy with his adoptive parents. Feeling off-kilter, he picked up Gus. He did not want the puppy make a mess in the pristine house.

"Right this way, Mr. Holbrook." The butler had a light Eastern European accent.

"Should I take off my boots?" he asked uncertainly.

"However you feel most comfortable," the butler replied. Grant opted to tread carefully in his boots as he followed the butler up the sweeping staircase. The butler and Kate chitchatted as they walked through the enormous house. Grant struggled to follow their conversation and take in the opulent surroundings.

"Here we are," the butler said as he opened a door to a tastefully decorated room. "This will be your suite, Mr. Holbrook."

"It's Grant Jones," Grant corrected. "You can call me Grant."

"As you wish." The butler led him in. "Your bags will be brought up shortly."

Grant looked around the enormous room.

"This is the sitting room," the butler told him. "We can bring up a meal for you." He pointed to the table. "There is a desk, outfitted with stationery, pens, stamps, and the like. Whatever you need, do not hesitate to let me know, and I will procure it for you."

Grant nodded.

"This is the bedroom." The butler opened a set of French doors that led to a room painted gray with a dark-charcoal accent wall. There was a huge bed in the center of the wall. It had a clean, masculine dark-metal frame. The butler led him through another set of double doors. "This is the closet. I wasn't sure what your sizing was. These are some of Walter's old clothes. We will take your measurements and have suits, shirts, and pants made for you shortly. Place any laundry you want cleaned in the hamper, and hang items for dry cleaning here." He pointed.

"And through here is the bathroom." The bathroom was almost the same size as the bedroom. There was a glass-enclosed shower and a separate tub. Across from a window was a huge vanity with a marble top. "Through that door, you reach the bedroom, and this one leads us back to the sitting room. If you would follow me."

The suite was bigger than the garage apartment he had lived in with his adoptive parents when he was a child before they moved to the cinder-block house. He followed the butler back to the sitting room, where Kate waited.

"Will this room be okay?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said, "it's perfect."

"Great!" She smiled brightly at him. He felt melty inside.

I need to just fuck her and get it out of my system, he thought then immediately chastised himself.

"I'll leave you to rest," she said. "Tomorrow, I'll join you for breakfast and take you through the grounds and New Cardiff Township. It will be fun!"

After she left, the butler told him, "I'll have some light supper brought up for you."

"Thank you," Grant said. "What's your name?"

"Stefan."

"Thank you, Stefan."

"My pleasure," Stefan replied as he left the suite.

Grant took a long, hot shower. He wasn't sure what to do about Gus, so he stuck the dog in the tub and hoped that he didn't make a mess. When he went into the sitting room, there was sliced steak, broiled vegetables, some sort of pasta, and a salad waiting for him. There was also a small plate of cheese and fruit. On a wooden platform were two bowls, one with water and one with small cut-up bits of chicken and broccoli for Gus. The pup raced over to it and devoured the meal. Grant fed him small pieces of his own meal since Gus looked as if he was still hungry.

His bags had also been brought up, but Grant didn't bother to unpack. "We're only staying a day, maybe two," he said to Gus. "Just until I figure out what my biological father wants and how much he's willing to pay me to go away. I bet there's some sort of contract for me to keep my mouth shut." The puppy started wandering around the room anxiously.

"I bet you need to go out," Grant said. He found a coat in the closet and shoved his boots back on. His uniform had been taken away to be cleaned, he supposed.

He tucked the dog under his arm and went outside then set Gus down on the perfectly manicured lawn.

"Hello there," said a female voice.

"Kate," Grant said, turning to look at her.

She smiled at him.

"Thanks for everything," he said to her.

"Are you settling in?" she asked. She was wearing some sort of asymmetrical coat. She looked so elegant standing there in the soft light from the windows. She had changed out of her heels and was wearing thin canvas sneakers. Just seeing her delicate ankles in those shoes as she shifted her balance was making Grant crazier than a repressed nineteenth-century professor.

"Do you live here?" he asked.

"I live with my grandmother on the next property over," she told him.

"I see."

Grant was feeling warm from the shower and the meal, and Kate was looking up at him, her hazel eyes almost green in the light. He reached out and ran his hands down the side of the coat. It was soft, and the calluses on his hands caught on the delicate threads.

"What are you doing?" Kate said with a breathy laugh.

Grant pulled her close to him and kissed her. She didn't struggle, just melted into his arms, so he kissed her harder and let his tongue slide into her mouth. He came up for a breath then kissed her neck while he slid one hand up her thigh, under her dress.

Kate's brain seemed to catch up to what her body was doing. She pushed his hands off and stepped back from him. Her face was flushed.

"Sorry," Grant said, not meaning it.

"I have to go," she told him, then she turned and practically ran off. Grant let out a long stream of curse words, dropping into a nearby chair.

What were you thinking? he scolded himself. Get your head on straight. You can't sleep with your father's assistant. In his desire for Kate, he wasn't watching for Gus, and now the dog was missing. He cursed again and took out his phone to use as a flashlight and poked around the landscape, looking for the adventurous corgi.