Page 25 of How Not to Mess with a Millionaire

He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. Better she hear it from him than from Siri. “Aputtanais a woman of ill repute.”

“You mean a prostitute?” Her eyes flashed dark with anger, and the hands clutching her knees balled into fists, reminding him of his own reaction to the slur. “Your neighbor called me a whore?”

Dante nodded, not trusting himself to answer out loud. He wouldn’t blame her if she punched something. Preferably not him.

Instead, after a moment, her fingers relaxed, and some of the light returned to her eyes. “That’s why you changed your mind about Houdini. You were standing up for me.”

“I did it for the pig,” he insisted, he hoped convincingly. It wasn’t a total lie. Zoe wasn’t the only one his neighbor had insulted. He had had a few choice words for the piglet, too. “You were right. There was a reason he kept running away. That man is clearly unfit to take care of small animals.”

“You did it for the pig. And for me. Admit it.”

She nudged him playfully in the ribs with her elbow. Houdini buried his head in Dante’s armpit and snorted.

“I admit nothing.” Dante ran a hand down the pig’s tiny body.

Houdini chose that exact moment to sneeze, jolting himself awake and blinking up at Dante with watery, inquisitive eyes. Dante touched the back of his hand to the pig’s forehead, the way his grandmother had done when he was feeling—or faking—sick. Did pigs get colds? Fevers? How could you tell? He didn’t even know what a pig’s normal body temperature should be.

“Is he all right?” The hand on Houdini’s forehead traveled down to his tail and back again. Was he warmer than he had been a minute ago? Colder? And what about that little bump behind his left ear? Was that normal? “Maybe we should call a vet.”

“Be careful.” Zoe elbowed him again, a little more gently this time. “You might become so attached you can’t let him go.”

Exactly what he was afraid of.

“Here.” He held the pig out to her. That would show her who was and wasn’t capable of letting go. “You take him. I think we’ve bonded enough for one day.”

Or for a lifetime.

“Fine. Be that way.”

She scooted closer so she could take the pig. Their fingers brushed as they made the exchange, putting all of Dante’s nerve endings on edge.

Dammit to hell. The pig wasn’t the only one he was in danger of becoming too attached to.

“He seems fine,” she babbled on, still oblivious to the battle raging inside him. “I’ll keep a close eye on him. Once we get all the stuff we need, I’ll set him up in here. The articles I’ve read say to keep him in a confined space until he gets used to his surroundings.”

She set the pig down on the floor. His sharp hooves echoed on the faux wood porcelain tiles as he set off to explore the room.

“I’ll change and we can go into town.” Dante brushed his hands off on his shorts. “Whatever we can’t find there, we can order online.”

“What about Houdini?” Her eyes followed the pig, busy trying to squeeze his pudgy body under the dresser. “We can’t leave him here all alone.”

Dante thought for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. “We’ll have to take him with us. There’s some rope in the garage. I can rig up a makeshift leash and harness until we get something more suitable.”

He braced himself to stand, but she put a hand on his forearm, stopping him. Heat seared his skin, stealing the breath from his lungs and making his pulse pound in his ears.

“I just realized something.”

Was it his imagination—or wishful thinking—or was her voice lower, more seductive?

“What’s that?” he croaked, the two short words almost impossible to push past his suddenly dry lips.

“Under that gruff exterior, you’re a big softie.”

He scowled. No red-blooded male wanted to be described as soft in any way, shape, or form. “I am not.”

“Oh yeah?” She pushed on, undaunted, her hand tightening its grip on his arm. “I know you don’t want me here, but you still stuck up for me. And Houdini.”

She jerked her head to the corner of the room, where the pig, apparently having given up on his quest to fit under the dresser, was playing with a sock he must have pulled from Zoe’s half-open suitcase.