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Miami Attraction
Elaine Overton


As Miami's most celebrated vet, Dusty Warren can have his pick of any woman. But growing up on the road still makes him feel like an outsider in the city's elite circles.Then Mikayla Shroeder shows up at his ranch with her mangy mutt, and Dusty feels the white-hot spark of attraction. He knows Mikayla feels it, too, but the bestselling author is determined to stay aloof….Mikayla left her traumatic past behind to start over in a new town. She isn't prepared for the charismatic and compassionate animal doctor…or the untamed passion that takes them both by surprise. Animal attraction is one thing. But to allow this man into her heart as her protector, her lover, her soul mate? That's a wild sanctuary she never thought was possible–until now.









Dusty took Mikayla’s mouth in an urgent kiss. He kissed her as if he was a starving man and she was a feast.


Mikayla responded with an enthusiasm he’d only dreamed about. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight, parting her lips to accept his hot tongue as it explored every inch of her mouth.

Dusty picked up Mikayla and within seconds she was beneath him on the large four-poster bed. His blue-jean-clad legs pushed hers apart so that he could sink into her body. Dusty was awed by how well their bodies fit together. It was as if she were molded just for him. But there was only one potter that could create anything as divine as Mikayla Schroeder.

He let his tongue roll over her neck in featherlight touches, savoring the shift of her body as she pulsed with pleasure. He slid his hand between their bodies and almost groaned at the heat coming from her center. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Not sure he could wait much longer, Dusty sat back and pulled his polo shirt over his head, before scooping her up in his arms once more.

Mikayla followed Dusty’s lead, removing her blouse. She went to unsnap her front-latch bra, but Dusty’s hands got there first.

“Let me,” he whispered in her ear.




ELAINE OVERTON


currently resides in the Detroit area with her son. She attended a local business college before entering the military and serving in the Gulf War.

She is an administrative assistant, currently working for an automotive-industry supplier and is an active member of Romance Writers of America.




Miami Attraction

Elaine Overton





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

Thank you for taking the time to read Miami Attraction. As we all know, everyone we meet comes from a different walk of life and a different background, and sometimes the parts of our pasts that we are most ashamed of are the parts that have made us stronger. They are the parts that have made us who we are today.

In Dusty and Mikayla’s story I have tried to express exactly that sentiment. These two characters find a way to embrace their future together, but in order to do that they must first learn how to heal the pains of their past.

I hope you enjoy their story.

Take care,

Elaine




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23




Chapter 1


Mikayla Shroeder stood outside the front door of her three-bedroom stucco bungalow in the South Beach neighborhood. She hesitated to put her key in the lock and open the door for fear of what awaited her on the other side.

She’d been gone from her home for a record seven days now, and despite the help she’d hired to deal with her problem, she held little hope much had changed in her absence. Still, she was near exhaustion and the thought of sleeping in her own bed tonight held too much appeal to resist. It was time to face the unavoidable.

On a deep sigh she placed the key in the lock, turned and steeled herself for what would come next. She pushed on the heavy oak door as it opened.

She waited. Nothing happened.

She pushed it even farther open until she could see the entryway leading to the sunken living room. She entered the house, confused by the silence.

At first glance everything appeared to be normal. The small cherrywood table that decorated the foyer was once again lying on its side. The small glass vase that usually sat on the table was smashed, with bits of glass scattered across the light oak wood floor, interspersed with the wilted flowers that once occupied the vase.

“Hello?” Stepping over the glass, she closed the door behind her and moved farther into the house, walking toward the living room. The recently purchased orange pillows that were supposed to line the bright red, box-styled sofas were thrown about the room. The round glass coffee table was still centered between the sofas, but the stacks of her favorite travel books were falling over on themselves and spilling off the table.

Despite the disarray, which was expected, the stillness of the place bothered her the most.

“Kim?” Mikayla frowned to herself as her confusion grew and along with it, her concern. “Angel? Where’s my sweet girl?”

Her calls were met with dead silence.

She walked along the short, cream, carpeted pathway that led around the sunken living room and rounded the corner into the kitchen.

The sink was full of dishes, except for the ones that had been pulled out of a bottom cabinet and tossed around the room. The dish towel was sprawled on the floor next to where both wood counter stools lay on their sides. The box of dog treats that usually sat in one corner of the counter was turned on its side and completely emptied.

Mikayla was crossing the room to pick up one of the stools when she heard the first sounds of life.

“Drop it!” A forceful, female voice came from the back of the bungalow. “I said drop it!”

Mikayla hurried toward the voice, passing through the elegant dining room and vaguely noticing the table and chairs were upright and properly positioned.

“Give it back! Bad!” The female voice was growing angrier. “Bad Angel!”

Mikayla rushed through the glass sliding doors that led to the backyard and pool patio, and stopped in her tracks.

“Bad Angel! Bad!” Kim Shapiro, her nineteen-year-old neighbor and dog sitter was standing, dripping wet beside the pool in a royal blue bikini bottom and nothing else. Her small hands were balled in fists at her side; her pretty face was twisted in an angry expression as she glared across the pool. “Drop it, Angel! I mean it!”

Mikayla followed the direction of Kim’s death stare and knew what she’d find before her eyes landed on the large, scruffy, tan-colored dog standing on the other side of the pool. The dog’s wet tail was wagging in excitement, her soaked fur dripping on the patio as a wet bikini top hung from her mouth.

“Oh, no,” Mikayla groaned, knowing she’d just lost yet another dog sitter.

The small noise was enough to startle the teenager, and she covered her bare breasts with her arms. “Ms. Shroeder—I didn’t hear you come in.”

“It’s okay. I can see you’re busy.” Mikayla started along the poolside toward Angel, who’d already dropped the bikini top and was charging in her direction.

Mikayla braced herself for the huge paws that landed on her shoulders a moment later, and positioned her feet to keep her balance. It had taken her months to learn that trick; Angel use to knock her down with little effort.

Kim seized the opportunity to rush around the pool and grab her top. “Aren’t you back a little early?” She cast one last glare at Angel before turning her back to the pair and tying the halter top back on.

Mikayla looked at the dog’s face now inches from her own, and found bright blue eyes blinking back at her and a pink tongue lolling to the side. Hot breath that smelled like day-old milk bones blew across her face.

Despite the scene she’d entered on, and Angel’s penchant for trouble, Mikayla was satisfied that her pet had not been mistreated in her absence.

Rubbing the top of the shaggy head of her ill-behaved beast, she asked Kim, “How was everything this week?”

Kim turned with a false smile in place. “Great! Just great. Me and Angel had a great time. Didn’t we, girl?”

“Down, Angel,” Mikayla said, but Angel was too busy licking her face to hear her name being said. “Down, Angel!” Mikayla said again, with little reaction from the dog.

She took the large paws and forcefully removed them from her shoulders.

Not the slightest bit put off by the rebuke, Angel shuffled away to her favorite end of the pool and dived in.

“What happened?” Mikayla asked, taking in the water-splattered patio, and various pool toys scattered around the area.

“We were in the pool—” Kim began to explain.

“She loves the pool,” Mikayla interjected apologetically as she began to understand what had occurred.

“Yeah, I know.” Kim gave the dog a long-suffering look. “Anyway, everything was fine and then I dived too hard, I guess, and my top slipped up—”

Mikayla stopped where she was bent over picking up a floaty. “Oh, dear.” She muttered. “Angel grabbed it.”

“It happened so fast!” Kim’s blue eyes widened in renewed surprise. “Before I even realized what had happened she had it and was out of the pool.” She sighed. “That’s where you came in.”

“I’m sorry about that. Angel feels that anything loose in the pool is, well…up for grabs.” Mikayla bent and picked up a chew toy, but just then Angel came loping up, leaving a trail of water in her wake, and snatched the toy from Mikayla’s hand. “I guess it’s my fault. I’ve let her get away with it for so long.”

“For the most part, she’s a real sweetheart.” Kim leaned forward and rubbed the dog’s wet head. “Just…a little rambunctious.”

“That’s an understatement,” Mikayla muttered. She glanced at the girl who, despite the bikini top incident, looked none the worse after a week with Angel, and decided now was as good a time as any to bring up her next trip. “Listen, Kim, I have another conference in a few weeks and—”

“I can’t!” Kim blurted. “I have plans for that week.”

I haven’t even said which week.

A brief glimpse of what looked like embarrassment crossed the girl’s face. “I mean, I’m going to be heading back to school soon. Spring break’s almost over. I doubt if I’d be able to do it.”

“I understand.” Mikayla forced a smile. Another one bites the dust. She was running out of neighbors. Soon Angel’s name and picture would be posted on the community board in front of the local library under the heading BEWARE. Then what was she supposed to do for dog sitters?

After all, Kim had been an unexpected prize. Mikayla and Angel had moved in a little over a year ago and with Kim being away at college most of the year, she’d somehow been spared the worst of the rumors about the new neighborhood nuisance, as Mikayla had heard her next-door neighbor refer to Angel.

When they’d run into Kim during one of their afternoon walks, Kim and Angel had taken to each other, and that was an excellent omen, considering how rare it was that Angel took to anyone.

Over the next few weeks, Mikayla had set out on a calculated campaign to win the girl over and it hadn’t taken much since she already loved animals, and when Kim was around Angel was on her best behavior.

So, when she offered to pay Kim to stay at her house for a few days to take care of the dog, and Kim, like most college students, needed money, it had seemed like a match made in heaven.

But still, during the entire five-day trip, Mikayla could not get rid of the nagging feeling that she’d set Kim up to be a victim. During her motivation lectures to the gathering of aspiring writers, Mikayla’s mind had wandered away on several occasions. And even during the book signing, she’d autographed a copy of her book “To Angel.”

And when she’d arrived home today, she’d expected to find the same scene she’d found after returning from her last two trips. Turned-over tables and chairs, torn pillows and damp carpets. The fact the house still looked like a house was a testament to Kim’s unique relationship with her pet. But that emphatic response had been enough to let her know they’d lost the last, best hope.

“Well, now that you’re back, I’m gonna head home.” Kim headed toward the glass doors leading into the house.

Mikayla looked down at her scruffy companion who was staring back at her with adoring eyes and a wagging tail, wanting to play.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Mikayla asked.

Angel’s response was the accelerated wagging of the tail and a loud bark. Play was all she had on her mind.

At the glass doors, Kim paused. “Um…Ms. Shroeder?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought of sending Angel to an obedience school?”

“It’s crossed my mind,” Mikayla said, finding no need to mention that she’d tried it with three different schools, all of which had returned both her money and her dog and declared the task impossible. But Kim didn’t need to know all that. She was already enough of a lost cause as it was.

“Just thought I’d ask. I’ll just go grab my bag out of the guest room,” Kim said and headed toward the bedrooms. Angel glanced at the girl and then back at Mikayla, torn as to which to follow.

Mikayla watched the dog make her decision as she plopped down on her wide bottom. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

Angel looked up at her owner with big, innocent eyes. A few minutes later Mikayla was in the kitchen, standing with the fridge door open, looking for something to eat when Kim entered, carrying the overnight tote she’d collected from the guest room.

“Here you go.” Mikayla turned and handed the girl an envelope. “I gave you a little more than we agreed on.” She nodded down at Angel who was sitting on her foot. “I know she can be a handful.”

“You didn’t have to do that—but thank you.”

Kim accepted the envelope and looked down at the dog with gentle eyes. “She’s certainly high-strung, but she is a sweetheart. Just mischievous.”

The young woman’s compassionate response made Mikayla regret losing her even more.

“See you later, Ms. Shroeder.” Kim paused again. “You know, I’ve heard about this dog trainer in Davies. Dr. Dusty Warren. He’s supposed to be some kind of dog whisperer, you know—gifted with animals.”

Despite her failure with trainers, Mikayla’s interest was sparked nonetheless. “Really?”

“Yeah, my aunt had an aggressive mastiff and from what she said this guy worked wonders.”

“Dusty Warren, you said?” Mikayla dug out some leftover sandwich meats, cheese slices and mayonnaise from the fridge.

“Yeah, he’s a really renowned vet, and from what my aunt said he has this huge sprawling ranch down in Davies with a full-size hospital and everything. I mean, if you ever consider getting her some training that would be a place to start. Anyway, just thought I’d mention it.” The girl headed to the door, holding up the envelope. “Thanks for the money.”

“Thank you for taking care of Angel!” Mikayla called out.

Angel barely acknowledged the girl’s departure. Her full attention was centered on the sandwich being stacked on the marble island counter top. Her fluffy tail wagged as Mikayla began to cut it in half.

“Dr. Dusty Warren, huh?” she muttered to herself. “A dog whisperer.” Hearing a slight whimper, she looked to see Angel wagging her tail and glancing back between the sandwich and Mikayla.

Mikayla raised an eyebrow. “And exactly why do you think you deserve this after your behavior this morning?”

Angel glanced at her expectantly and returned her attention to the sandwich.

“I wonder if this Dr. Warren is really any different from the others.”

As if sensing her chances of getting some of the sandwich were slimming, Angel made another whimpering sound.

“Oh, all right.” Mikayla dropped half the sandwich into Angel’s food bowl. “Although you really don’t deserve it.”

Angel rushed to the bowl and began gobbling down the sandwich.

Picking up the remaining half of the sandwich, Mikayla collected her computer carry case from where she’d left it near the front door and headed to her study. Before she got her hopes up again, she wanted to do a little research on this Dr. Dusty Warren.




Chapter 2


Dr. Dusty Warren had just finished the procedure of neutering a one-year-old Yorkie, and was in the process of tying off his final stitch in his operating room when he heard the commotion coming from the outer offices of his veterinarian hospital.

He frowned at his nurse, but Nurse Francine Weathers shrugged in confusion. Dusty forced himself to ignore the unidentified noises and focus on his patient.

Then a loud crash, followed by a screech, a scream and an irate voice caused him to put down the instrument and go to the door.

He opened it just as a bolt of reddish-gold fur shot past the door with a long, red cloth trailing behind. He recognized the blur as a dog right before two of his staff came charging around the corner, chasing the dog.

“Come back here, you hell hound!” His front-desk receptionist, Hannah, called, sounding more angry than he’d ever heard her before. Hannah was the most cheerful employee he had.

Right behind Hannah was Tim, one of his property caretakers, and Tim’s reaction was different than that of Hannah’s. Tim was laughing so hard he was out of breath and bracing himself against the wall to keep from falling.

“What the hell is going on?” Dusty asked Tim.

Tim’s eyes widened, noticing his boss standing in the doorway of the operating room.

“Sorry, Dr. Warren, a dog got loose.”

“A dog?”

“A new patient. Hannah was just checking her in when—”

A blue-jeans-clad woman came charging around the same corner as the others and did not even hesitate as she rushed past both Dusty and Tim, following in the wake of Hannah and the dog.

A slight breeze of perfume floated on the air as she passed, but the woman was moving so fast Dusty barely saw her face. The snug fit of the jeans around her curvy hips would’ve been noticeable even in the dark.

“Who was that?” he asked Tim, who still hadn’t moved from his position on the opposite wall.

“That’s the dog’s owner.” Tim looked down the hall where the three had disappeared around the corner. “It’s Mikayla Shroeder.”

“The author?”

“In the flesh.” Tim nodded.

Dusty shook his head, trying to shake off his growing confusion. “Can you finish up here?” he called to Nurse Fran over his shoulder.

“No problem,” she called back.

Dusty let go of the swinging door, removed his latex gloves and went after the two women and the dog, motioning for Tim to follow.

Dusty thought about the large size of the animal that had rushed by earlier. “Is the dog dangerous?” he asked, taking long strides.

“No,” Tim answered a few steps behind him, “just ill-mannered. That thing she has in his mouth is Hannah’s new dress. She bought it for a party she’s going to tonight with her new boyfriend.”

Dusty glanced over his shoulder at his young caretaker, remembering that only recently he and Hannah had stopped dating.

“She had just taken it out of the bag to show some of us and then the phone rang.” Tim continued. “She laid it on the desk, and out of nowhere the dog grabbed it and took off.”

Dusty came around the corner. He stopped dead in his tracks, leaving Tim to put on his brakes to avoid running into the back of him. They were in the pen area and the other dogs locked in the cages were going crazy with the sudden infusion of activity around them.

Before Dusty were his receptionist, Hannah, and the dog’s owner, both flanking the dog. To be fair, the scruffy, mangy mutt barely qualified as a canine. The large dog had dirty, gold-colored, matted fur. She had the large, muscular build and square-shaped head of a Saint Bernard, but the pointed features and blue eyes of a husky. Independently, both were beautiful species of dogs, but combined in this two-hundred-pound monstrosity it seemed an abomination.

Watching the two women, its whole body vibrated with excitement. The dog stood in a wide-legged stance with a tattered red cloth clamped between its teeth, shining blue eyes looking for any small opportunity to escape.

In the cacophony of barks and howls, Dusty heard what sounded like a muffled cry and realized it was coming from his receptionist.

“Oh, what’s the use, it’s ruined!” Hannah’s shoulders slumped, her guard dropped, and the dog seized the opportunity, ducking between her legs only to be grabbed by the collar and tackled by Tim.

“I’m so sorry.” The other woman put her arms around Hannah’s shoulders, and Dusty found his eyes once again drawn to her fitted jeans. “I’ll replace it—today. Just tell me where you bought it and the size and I’ll pick up another today.”

“You can’t!” Hannah cried harder. “It was the last one, I found it on the clearance rack.”

Dusty glanced back to where the dog was wiggling and squirming to get free from Tim’s tight hold around its body. The animal’s legs were spread wide as it kicked and pawed in every direction. Tim hauled the animal over to an empty carry case and pushed her into it headfirst and latched the box closed.

Angel began to revolt, barking and scratching at the sides of the box. Hearing her pet’s cry for help, Mikayla left the young woman’s side and kneeled beside the box.

She attempted to comfort Angel with shushing noises. Seeing it was not working, she sighed. “Sorry, baby, but you brought this on yourself.”

Meanwhile, Tim had circled back around and replaced Mikayla, wrapping his arm around Hannah’s shoulder in an attempt to console her over the loss of her new dress.

Between the howling animals and the crying receptionist, Dusty had had enough. He walked over to the woman kneeling beside the cage and offered his hand to bring her to her feet. Mikayla accepted the helping hand, and as she stood she came eye-to-eye with the doctor.

Dusty forgot his train of thought. His staff, the barking dogs, everything fell away. All he could focus on were eyes the color of September’s fall leaves just as they began to turn that rich, deep brown. There was aged knowledge in those eyes that did not go with the beautiful, youthful face in which they were contained. She was what the elders called an old soul. A person wise beyond their years, and he was curious to know what had given such a beautiful young woman such sad eyes.

Feeling her tug, he realized he was still holding her hand and quickly released it.

He cleared his throat and put on his professional voice. “Hello, I’m Dr. Dusty Warren.” He introduced himself to the woman.

“Mikayla Shroeder.” She smiled. “Sorry to cause your staff so much trouble, but I guess you can see why we’re here.” She gestured to the dog. “This is Angel, and as you can see she is in desperate need of some training, and I was told you’re the best.”

Dusty smiled. “You’ve certainly come to the right place. Tim, please put the dog in room three.”

But Tim and Hannah had their heads bent together, talking in whispers. Rather than call him again, Dusty pushed the wheeled case himself. “This way.” He gestured for Mikayla to go ahead of him.

“I apologize again. I don’t know what got into her.” Mikayla was speaking over her shoulder as she moved back into the main hospital.

“Well, let’s go find out, shall we?” Dusty struggled to keep his head up and avoid looking at those form-fitting jeans and how they moved with her body.

“I think you may have accidentally done Tim a good service,” Dusty said, closing the door behind him. “That dress was for Hannah’s date with a new guy.”

“Aaahhh,” Mikayla said. “With Tim being the old guy, I presume?”

“Exactly.”

Dusty parked the case by the table, and Angel was sitting quietly inside, having accepted her temporary fate. Dusty reached over to the wall and took down a leash.

He opened the cage and hooked the leash to her collar before Angel even realized what he was doing. But once the collar was attached she began bouncing around inside. Even with her standing a few feet away, Dusty could feel the tension in Mikayla.

Once the dog was out of the cage and climbing all over Dusty, Mikayla released a breath she’d been holding.

“She likes you.” The slight surprise in Mikayla’s voice indicated that this was not typically the case.

Dusty pushed Angel back down on her bottom and began trying to examine her, while she continued to climb on him, attempting to put her paws over his shoulders. All of a sudden her busy motion stopped and she sat down on her rump, tail wagging, but beyond that she was calm.

Dusty looked at the dog and was surprised to see her just watching him in silence. “She seems in good health.”

After much resistance, he managed to get her mouth open and looked at her teeth. “What is she, about six? Six and a half?”

“I think so.”

He glanced at Mikayla and looked away. What a beauty, he thought, trying to keep his mind on the dog.

He knew about the author and motivational speaker, Mikayla Shroeder. Who didn’t? In fact, he’d read her first book a few years ago. He’d picked it up at the airport, just wanting something to read on the plane while traveling to a veterinarian conference in Portland, Oregon, not realizing at the time that it was Christian inspirational nonfiction. The book, Reclaiming Your Soul, had been a national bestseller within weeks of coming out, and launched the formerly unknown author into instant superstardom. That day in the airport, he had wanted to see what all the fuss was about. In fact, as far as he knew the book was still selling in record volumes.

Surprisingly, he’d enjoyed reading it at the time, but he had given little thought to the author, and what thought he’d given had not come anywhere close to the gorgeous, young woman standing in his office.

She’d only written the one book that he knew of, but nowadays you couldn’t turn on the radio without hearing a promotion for one of her upcoming seminars.

He’d assumed she was older. Much older. Why, he wasn’t sure, just something about the way she wrote spoke of a maturity beyond her years. He thought about the book he’d read and didn’t think there’d been an author photo along with the brief bio.

He was so occupied by his thoughts of Mikayla that what came next took him by surprise. Angel sprang at him in joyful delight, all two hundred pounds of her, and together they hit the floor with Dusty on the bottom.

Before he knew what had happened, Angel was standing on his chest, smiling down at him. She barked once, a loud, happy bark as if to declare she’d won.

“Angel!” Mikayla was pulling on the leash, trying to get the dog off him, but Dusty was more successful in just pushing her to the side and climbing to his feet. Except for a bruised ego, he was none the worse off.

“Bad girl!” Mikayla was scolding her, even as she petted her head. Dusty wondered if she understood how contradictory her actions were.

He dusted himself off. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You’re disciplining her with words, but rewarding her with action.” He motioned to where her hand was running over the dog’s head. Angel’s tail wagged as she enjoyed the petting.

Mikayla looked down at her hand as if it had taken on a life of it’s own. “I hadn’t even realized it.” She snatched back her hand. “It’s just habit.”

Dusty glanced down at the dog who was once again sitting, this time at her master’s side, her tail still wagging happily.

Dusty thought he better lay down the ground rules now. He’d seen this before. People who could not bear the idea of being apart from their pets for any amount of time. Just watching her behavior with the dog, Dusty thought Mikayla Shroeder might be one of those people.

“Ms. Shroeder—”

“Mikayla.”

“Mikayla, you need to understand that my training methods are different from others. If I accept Angel as a client, she has to stay here with me.”

Her eyes widened. “For how long?”

“Eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks? Why so long?”

He braced his weight against the examination table and folded his arms across his chest. “What I do is less training and more deprogramming. I need to be her complete focus for a while. After two weeks, you can come visit her and then after that I need you to come in once a week for training.”

“What kind of training?” she asked.

“You have to understand that Angel is half the problem. You’re the other half. Your behavior toward her has to change as much as her behavior toward you.”

She glanced down at her dog, who gazed up at her with adoring eyes. “I don’t know about this. Eight weeks is a long time. We haven’t been separated that long, since…I just don’t know.”

Dusty caught the pause, but said nothing. Most people who came to him never went through with the program for this very reason. They did not want to be separated from their pet for such an extended amount of time. But separating them was the only way to get the dog’s complete attention, and getting the dog’s complete attention was the way to retrain them.

“I tell you what.” He walked over to her and took Angel’s leash. “How about I give you a tour of the hospital and training facility and then you make up your mind?”




Chapter 3


Dusty led her down a series of hallways, pointing out the various rooms to her, showing her the hospital was a lot bigger than it looked from the entrance.

“We are a full-service hospital and can accommodate up to twenty-five patients overnight.”

“Are you the only doctor?”

“Yes. I do allow other local vets to use the facility on occasion. We have two operating rooms, both are state-of-the-art in their components.”

The pride in his voice was evident as he guided her around his hospital, and Mikayla couldn’t help but be impressed by the place and the man.

They reached the back entrance where a set of automated double doors led to the emergency entrance. As they walked out of the back entrance it was like they were walking into another world.

From the front entrance the Warren ranch looked like a comfortable tract of land, big enough to hold the hospital and make a kennel, but behind the hospital its secret was revealed. The place was huge.

She stood on a slight incline overlooking acre after acre of green, open fields. In the distance, she could see another tall two-level building, made of the same light brick that the hospital was made of. Beside the two-story building was a smaller building that Mikayla could not quite make out from the distance.

He gestured to two golf carts sitting nearby. “If you want we can take one of the carts, but if you don’t mind I would rather walk.” He gestured to Angel, whom he still held by the leash. “Give her a chance to burn off some of that energy.”

As if sensing the possibility, Angel was pulling at the leash, straining to get out in the open field.

“Lead the way,” Mikayla said, and they headed across the field.

The more she saw, the more impressed Mikayla became. On one edge sat a stable and barn. Several horses pranced and stood in the gigantic pen just outside it. On the opposite end sat a large, three-story brick house.

Once they started walking, Angel stopped pulling at the leash and skipped along, sniffing at various things in the grass and taking in her surroundings. It didn’t escape Mikayla’s notice that Dusty seemed to have her pet well in hand.

Maybe, she thought, his way of doing things, keeping Angel on the ranch for eight weeks, would work. At least, no one had ever tried anything like that before. And she seemed satisfied to stay at his side.

“Do you board horses here?” she asked, gesturing to the stables.

“Yes, but we also raise them. I have some of the finest trainers in the country and three young colts, one of which I think could take a title.”

“Vet, dog trainer and horse breeder. Wow,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re a busy man.”

“And you’re a busy lady. I have to confess I’ve read your book.”

“Oh? What did you think?”

“It was excellent, very thought provoking. It’s just you seem too young to have such an in-depth understanding of human nature.”

A brief sadness crossed her eyes, and Dusty regretted his words.

“Hard times do not have an age limit.” She pointed toward the large house. “Is that your home?”

He nodded, his attention distracted by Angel who’d gotten wrapped up in the leash. “Yes. I have three dogs of my own, by the way. So along with the dogs in the kennel, Angel will have lots of company and opportunity to interact with other dogs.”

“That would be good. She doesn’t get that chance very often.”

Before she realized it, they had reached the training facility. She glanced back up the hill where the hospital sat, still amazed that the large building somehow hid all this from the main road.

Dusty introduced her to the staff of trainers and gave her an overview of what a typical day would be like for Angel. He showed her the area she would be kept in, and Mikayla had to admit that as far as kennels went, this was quite elegant, with padded floors and more toys than Angel could ever play with.

Outside, she was shown the large play area where several dogs lounged, enjoying the sun.

“Most of the dogs spend the majority of their time outside, so don’t think she will be sitting in a kennel all day.”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t think that. You have a great place here and I’m sure she would be fine. It’s just we’ve never been apart for very long periods of time.”

Dusty stopped walking and turned to face her. “Mikayla, I can help Angel, but you’re going to have to trust me. I know eight weeks seems like a long time, but it’s the minimal amount of time necessary to deprogram her bad behavior.”

Mikayla glanced around once more, and could find no fault with the ranch. She looked at Dusty and could find no fault with the man. “Okay.” She nodded.

She bent to Angel’s level, and the dog pulled on the leash to get to her. “I wish you could understand that I am not abandoning you.” She kissed the dog’s furry head and fought back the tears.

“I’ll take good care of her. You can come see her in two weeks.”

She stood. “I know.”

“Let me take her inside to Sam and I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and looked away as Dusty led Angel back inside. At the door the dog stopped and looked back at her, expecting Mikayla to follow, and when she did not, Angel turned to go back to her, prompting Dusty to tug on her leash.

The dog finally surrendered and followed the man inside. Once they were out of sight, Mikayla walked to the six-foot fence surrounding the play area and released the tears she’d been holding back.

She knew her behavior would seem extreme to Dr. Warren or anyone there. After all, they would only be separated for eight weeks. But no one else understood what this separation meant. It wasn’t just a few weeks apart, it was a broken promise.

Only one other soul in the world knew the truth, that the relationship between her and Angel went deeper than just owner and pet. They were best friends. Not only friends, they were each others saviors.

On the worst night of her life, five years ago, as she lay bleeding to death in a deserted alley, she’d made a promise to the stray dog that rescued her from her attacker. The dog, even after the attack was over, stood over her wounded body like a sentinel, watching, guarding from all comers.

The dog refused to leave her side, even as the blood from her own injuries coated her fur and dripped onto the concrete. That night, she’d promised the dog a home for life. No one would ever separate them. And now, for the first time she was about to break that promise.

Sure, she took trips to do speaking engagements, but Angel had always remained safe and sound in her own home, knowing Mikayla would return. But this was different. This time, Angel would be living away from her home for two months, and Mikayla had no way to assure her she would return.

She felt like the worst kind of betrayer. Hearing the door open behind her, she swiped at her eyes. This was going to be the longest two weeks of her life.

“Okay, she’s all settled in.” Dusty came up beside her, and the surprised look on his face told her she had not gotten rid of all the evidence of her sorrow.

“Hey, relax. I promise you, Angel’s going to be just fine. I’ve been training dogs for over ten years. I know what I’m doing.”

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you do.”

“Come on.” He gestured to a nearby golf cart. “I want to show you something.”

The pair climbed in and Dusty guided the cart toward his house. The closer they came to the house, the more her tension grew.

“Where are we going?” she asked, looking directly at his house in the distance.

Despite the fact that he was certain she knew, still he pointed to the house. “My home. I have some friends there I want you to meet.”

Her eyes widened in terror, and Dusty could literally feel her fear like it was a tangible thing.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean friends you want me to meet—I just met you!”

“It’s okay, trust me.” Dusty was split between her reaction and the strong emotions swirling in the atmosphere around his head. It was the most bizarre thing, but he knew with complete certainty he was feeling her emotions. And what she was feeling was not good.

“Trust you? I don’t even know you!”

He stopped the cart, and she was instantly out of it, walking quickly back up the hill toward the hospital.

“Mikayla!” he called to her, then turned the cart around and followed until he could come up beside her. “Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head. “I just remembered something I have to do.”

He stopped the cart again. “I just wanted to introduce you to my dogs!” he called after her.

She stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at him. “Your dogs?”

He hopped out of the cart and walked to her. “I thought if you saw them and heard how far they had come it would be encouraging to you.”

The heavy air surrounding them began to thin as she smiled. “Your dogs.”

The calm expression on her pretty face could not wipe away the terror she’d felt a moment ago. He’d felt it as surely as she did. It was the strangest phenomenon he’d ever experienced, but he knew it was real.

He gestured to the cart. “Do you have time?”

She nodded and climbed back into the cart.

As they approached the house, Mikayla could see it was even bigger than she’d thought. “Wow, what a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” He stepped out of the cart and waited for her to join him. Together they went along the side of the large house, to the backyard where three dogs, a Labrador retriever, a German shepherd and a Chihuahua all lay on the large open deck, bathing in the sun.

The three together, so different and yet seeming in perfect synch, made a comical trio, and Mikayla couldn’t help but smile.

Dusty gestured to the open area around his house. “As you can see, there is no fence to keep them in. In fact, they are pretty much given free run of the ranch, but nonetheless most days this is where you will find them.

“The big guy is Athos.” He gestured to the German shepherd. “The Labrador is Porthos, and—”

“And let me guess, the Chihuahua is Aramis.”

He smiled in return. “Good guess.”

“The Three Musketeers.”

“After watching them together for a while, I could come up with no better names.”

“Did you get them all at the same time?”

“Yes, and…” His smile faded. “And all were meant to be bait in dog fights.”

She glanced back at the dogs resting on the porch. Only Aramis seemed to be aware of their presence. He lifted his little head and sniffed the air. Satisfied with what he found, he plopped is head back down on the deck.

“When they were rescued, they were all slated to be put down for different reasons. Aramis there was deemed in too bad a shape to survive. Athos had become extremely aggressive and Porthos is said to have psychological problems.

“Even though they thought I was crazy I talked the rescue shelter into letting me adopt them. I brought them home and worked with them. With a little love, time and attention I made them into the worthless fleabags you see before you.”

She laughed. “Wow, what an improvement.”

His smiled faded. “Actually, it is.”

He crossed the yard and once he came into their line of vision all three dogs rose to greet him. “My point is that with a little love, time and attention I think any dog can be retrained.” He sat down on a stair and the dogs surrounded him, with Aramis wiggling past the two bigger dogs to climb onto Dusty’s lap. “You just have to give them a sense of security and safety. Something these dogs had never had.”

Mikayla followed him to the porch and the three dogs wandered over to sniff out the stranger. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t give you the impression that I doubted your level of compassion. I don’t. It’s just…” She paused, petting Porthos’s soft gold head and thinking of how much to say to this man who was still a stranger. “Just like you chose their names because it suited them. I named her Angel for a reason.”

Dusty watched her as some light of recognition came into his eyes. “I understand.” He nodded. “Just give me two weeks and see if you don’t see a world of difference.”

She frowned and rubbed Athos under his furry chin.

“What?” Dusty was watching her with narrowed eyes. “What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “It’s just—I know Angel, and she has a tendency to be…how do I put it? Stubborn.”

Dusty smiled. “So am I.”

“And don’t let her scruffy appearance fool you—she’s very intelligent.”

“Most dogs are.”

“And—” Mikayla found herself wanting to warn Dusty but was unsure of the words “—she can be a bit sneaky.”

He smirked. “Again, most dogs are.” He leaned forward. “Look, Mikayla, I haven’t met a dog I couldn’t train, and I’m sure Angel will be no exception.”

Mikayla thought about her resourceful dog and all the clever little stunts she’d pulled over the years on dog sitters and dog trainers alike. She already knew it was going to be a long two weeks. Still, she decided, this man seemed different, and therefore deserved the benefit of the doubt.

She forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”




Chapter 4


“Dusty Warren?” Kandi Martin, Mikayla’s literary agent and manager, took another bite of her Caesar salad, a slight frown creasing her brow. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t remember where.”

“Well, he’s well respected in his field and Angel’s last, best hope.” Mikayla took another sip of the cheese soup she’d chosen as an appetizer. “You should see his facility. It’s really state-of-the-art. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Kandi glanced across the table at her friend. “Sounds like an interesting man. Is he married?”

Mikayla returned the glance, knowing what her friend was asking. “Don’t even go there. This is just about Angel.” She shrugged. “Besides, when would I have time for a man?”

“Some things you make time for.” Reaching into the basket on the center of the table, Kandi took a roll and tore it in half. “It’s about balance.” She held up the two parts of the roll. “The ying and the yang. Work versus play. If you ask me, you have way too much of one and not enough of the other.”

Mikayla reached across the table and snatched one of the halves. “Well, I didn’t ask you, did I?” To emphasize her point, she bit off the roll before placing it on her soup saucer.

As the waiter arrived with their entrées, and removed the soup and salad dishes, Kandi dug around in her large tote bag. “By the way, I received this the other day.” She handed Mikayla an elegant cream envelope.

“What’s this?” Mikayla opened the envelope and read the enclosed card. It was an invitation to speak at an AKA dinner at Bethune-Cookman University. “Oh, definitely.” She handed the invitation back.

“That’s another one of your problems, you spend too much of your time in all-female groupings. How are you gonna meet a potential lover like that?”

“First of all, let me restate, I am not looking for a lover. Second, it’s not my fault mostly women show up for my lectures.”

“Riiiggghhhttt,” Kandi muttered, cutting into her chicken parmesan.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kandi looked up at her friend with a tilted head and a knowing expression. “Come on, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t try to tell me you don’t enjoy getting up in front of a group of women and giving your little I-am-woman-hear-me-roar pep talk. You love it.”

“If by that you mean, do I enjoy empowering women who have been victimized in their own lives for far too long, then yes, I do.” She leaned forward, feeling defensive about her work. “And if my book can help even one woman regain control of her life, then—”

“Hang on, Sojourner.” Kandi held up her hands as if to ward off an attack. “Don’t get me wrong, I love what you do.” She reached across the table and took Mikayla’s hand. “And more importantly, I understand why you do it. I’m just saying you need more in your life than just this…this one-woman crusade you’re on.”

Mikayla sat back in her chair. “I do have more in my life than that.”

Kandi’s mouth twisted in a smirk. “Correction, more than a crusade—and a mangy mutt for companionship.”

Mikayla frowned. “She’s not mangy, she just has weird fur.” She shook her head in confusion, her mind running off in a new direction. “I swear I’ve tried every dog shampoo known to man, and nothing will make her hair lie down like a regular dog.”

Kandi shook the hand she was still holding to regain her friend’s attention. “Hello? Enough about Angel’s bad hair—I’m talking about you.”

“Kandi, I appreciate all your help and advice, but believe me when I say I like my life just the way it is.”

Kandi let go of her friend’s hand and turned her attention to slicing up her chicken parmesan. “That’s because you don’t know any better. You’ve never had a normal relationship with a man, so you can’t possibly know what you’re missing.”

The sudden silence caught her attention and she looked up to find Mikayla looking at her with a betrayed expression.

Her first instinct was to apologize for hurting her friend, but then she paused. As a policy, Kandi made a point of never apologizing for the truth, and if anyone needed to hear the truth it was Mikayla.

What started as a working relationship five years ago when Kandi signed Mikayla to a book contract had blossomed into one of the dearest relationships in her life, and she loved the younger woman sitting across from her like a little sister. But her little sister had scars. Scars left over from a vicious attack and the life before it. And until Mikayla confronted the ghost of her past those scars would never heal.

After the silence lingered a bit, Kandi muttered, “You know I don’t apologize for the truth.”

“Your truth is subjective,” Mikayla countered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As long as I was pumping out bestsellers you couldn’t care less about my loveless lifestyle. Now that I’ve hit a wall, what’s your sage advice? Get a lover.”

Kandi pointed her fork at Mikayla. “That is so unfair. This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. And it’s not like I brought this up.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t!”

Kandi placed her fork on the table and folded her hands under her chin. “Describe this veterinarian.”

“What?”

“The vet, Angel’s best and last blah, blah, blah. Describe him. What does he look like?”

“How did we get back to him?”

Kandi arched an eyebrow. “That’s where this conversation started, and that’s where it will end. Now, describe him.”

Mikayla shrugged. “I don’t know. Good-looking, I guess.”

“Be specific.” Kandi picked up a forkful of steam cooked string beans. “You’re a writer for goodness’ sake, give me some details.”

Mikayla sighed. “Fine. Let me think.” She cut up her salmon and pulled to the forefront of her mind the face she’d been trying not to remember for the past week.

“Okay, he’s got a caramel-brown complexion—no, wait. More like molasses when you heat it up, and it has deep, rich, brown coloring you can almost taste even before the sweet smell reaches your nose. And speaking of smell, my Lord, that man smells good.” She frowned. “Which is amazing considering the fact he works with animals all day. But get within a few feet of him and his cologne. Just, mmmm…”

Mikayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve got to find out the name of his cologne.” She chuckled. “Maybe I’ll buy a bottle for myself and just keep it on my dresser. It really is a wonderful smell. Probably won’t smell as good in the bottle as it does on him, though.” She opened her eyes to find Kandi watching her with a bemused expression. “What?”

“Nothing. Go on, caramel-brown and smells good. What about his eyes?”

“Deep brown, chocolate-brown, like dark pools, but not so dark you can’t see his bright pupils, and there is something else, as well. Just around the edges of his pupils are these unexpected flecks of gold. You know, they say you can see a person’s soul through their eyes. If that’s true, he has a compassionate soul.” She frowned again. “But I guess he would have to, considering—again—he works with animals all day.”

“Nose?” Kandi asked, her attention focused on her meal.

“Straight, strong, average, neat.” Mikayla smiled. “With the slightest little upturn on the tip. Adorable, really.”

“Mouth?”

“Perfect heart shape. Beautiful. Full, but not overly so, just enough to make them kissable.” She sighed again. “You should see his smile. It’s amazing. It’s like his whole face is transformed from just good-looking to stunning when he smiles. It makes you want to smile and you don’t even know why.” She laughed. “And on top of all that, he has the nerve to have dark red hair.”

“Red?”

“Yeah, more like a dark, dusty, blondish-red. But he wears it close cut. You probably wouldn’t notice except his eyebrows are the same color and when you meet him your attention is immediately drawn to those compassionate eyes.”

“I wonder if that’s where he got his name?”

“You know, I hadn’t thought about it.” Mikayla shrugged. “Maybe.”

The two women ate in silence for several minutes before Mikayla said, “Okay, so maybe I do find him attractive, but so what? That doesn’t change anything. All I want from this man is a manageable pet. I’m not interested in complicating my life with a relationship right now. I’ve got too much other stuff going on.”

Kandi continued to eat, saying nothing.

“And besides, he probably already has a woman. Hell, he may even be married and just doesn’t wear a ring.” She huffed. “Yeah, sounds about right, considering my taste in men.” She stabbed at her salmon. “And who’s to say he would even be interested? He probably flirts with every woman that comes into his clinic as a matter of habit.”

Kandi continued to eat, seeming oblivious to her friend’s conflictions.

“Using that damn smile of his like a weapon,” Mikayla muttered, making minced meat of her salmon. “Probably thinks he can have any woman he wants.”

After several more minutes had passed as the two ate in silence, Mikayla looked up and asked, “What were we talking about before?”

Kandi smiled. “I think we were deciding who brought up the topic of you needing a lover.”

Mikayla’s eyes narrowed menacingly on her friend’s face. “You know, sometimes I can’t stand you.”

“I know.” Kandi continued to smile. “I love you, too.”




Chapter 5


Over the next two weeks, try as she might, Mikayla could not seem to shake off her most recent conversation with Kandi. She found Dusty Warren intruding on her thoughts more and more. It had been a long time since she’d been so attracted to a man, but there was just something about him. Those compassionate eyes, his smile, even the gentle way he handled Angel after she’d caused such chaos in his clinic. And the way he looked at her, there was no denying his interest. But was she ready for that?

So much had changed over the past five years and yet so much had stayed the same. For instance, during those two weeks Angel was with Dusty, Mikayla hardly slept. The days were lonely but bearable, but at night the same creaking, cracking noises that she heard every night since she’d moved into the house a year ago suddenly took on ominous tones. Every time a car would drive down the street and the light would shine into her bedroom window she would awaken with a start.

She’d known living without Angel would be hard company wise. After all, Angel had been her constant companion for the past five years, but she had not anticipated the return of the fear.

The same fear she’d experienced when she first arrived in Miami from Atlantic City and settled into their first home. Although she never told Kandi, a small part of Mikayla had always believed the man who attacked her, Vega, would hunt her down and finish the job after his trial ended in a hung jury. Her only comfort had been the knowledge that he would have to go through Angel to do it. After their first encounter, Mikayla was certain Vega would not want to tango with Angel again.

But without the sound of Angel’s claws clacking against the vinyl floor in the kitchen as she patrolled from room to room every night, that comfort no longer existed. The fear had returned.

She lay wake at night listening to the sounds of the dark, and praying she was alone. And after just two weeks, she wasn’t sure she could live like that for six more days, let alone six more weeks. Whether Dusty had been successful in retraining her or not, Mikayla was strongly considering bringing her pet home.

Which was why Mikayla doubted she was ready to return Dusty’s obvious interest, or any other man’s for that matter. Just look at the way she’d reacted when he took her to meet his dogs. As soon as he turned that cart in the direction of his house the fear had crept into her being. She’d managed to conquer it, as she had to so often. But still, to her embarrassment, he’d gotten a brief glimpse of her terror.

How was she to have any kind of a relationship with a man when every time he touched her she froze up?

No, despite whatever attraction she had for the good doctor, what she told Kandi was right. The only thing she wanted from Dusty Warren was a well-managed pet.



On her first visitation day Mikayla awoke with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. Not only was she going to get to see Angel today, but before that she had a seminar in Fort Lauderdale she was really looking forward to.

She dressed in a dark suit and put her hair up in a French roll. She tried to cover the bags under her eyes with makeup but there was only so much Cover Girl bronzer could do.

As she applied the makeup in the bathroom mirror, she stopped for a moment and just examined her reflection. She’d come so far from the girl she once was. Her face was thinner, her hair shorter, and much lighter than before…how different she looked now. She wondered if her friends back in her old neighborhood in New Jersey would even recognize her?

She thought about those friends and wondered where they were today. The group of girls she’d hung out with, they’d all had so little, and hungered for so much. It was hard being poor in a place like Atlantic City. Watching the high rollers come and go in their expensive cars and expensive clothes, and there they were, just some poor locals craving a taste of that life.

Mikayla briefly wondered about her mother; it was not with the love of a child for a parent, but more idle curiosity. It had been a long time since Mikayla had loved her mother. Back before Mikayla came into puberty and the full extent of her future beauty began to shine through.

Instead of taking pride in her beautiful child, Regina Wilson had seen her daughter as a future rival for the male attention she enjoyed, and treated her only child as such. Even going so far as attempting to sell fifteen-year-old Mikayla to what she thought was a pimp and who turned out to be an undercover cop.

Mikayla knew nothing of her mother’s plan until the cops came to take her into protective services. Three ounces of cocaine. That’s what her mother valued her life at.

Mikayla was turned over to a foster care family that was already overloaded with the eight other foster children living in the home. But this arrangement worked out well for Mikayla because it allowed her to come and go as she pleased.

Even the memories felt like she was looking at someone else’s life. She applied a thin coat of lipstick, straightened up the house a little, and taking her attaché, headed out to the car. She was due in Fort Lauderdale in less than an hour.

When her friend, Nisha, told her how much she could make stripping at the Godiva club where she worked, Mikayla had not believed it. But when Nisha later that year bought a sixty-thousand-dollar car at age eighteen, Mikayla was convinced.

She took the stage name Tangie after the nickname a former boyfriend had given her. He’d claimed she was just the right combination of sugar and salt. Before long Tangie found it was not just the money she enjoyed, but the addictive feeling of power her beauty gave her over men. It didn’t take her long to realize that with a smile and the promise of more, there was little she could not have.

Nisha had also given her a piece of advice that Mikayla had brushed off and would later regret not heeding. Make sure they know you’re teasing.

Nisha had warned that as long as the patrons understood it was just a game of cat and mouse everybody went home happy. But when the men that came to the club began to believe the dancers liked them, things could get complicated. When one of the club’s regulars brought her a pair of four-carat diamond earrings, Mikayla had let that bit of advice go in one ear and out the other.

His name was Vega, or at least that’s what he told the girls to call him, and when he started coming to the club it was once or twice a week until it was almost every night.

He would sit at the bar and watch Tangie with an obsessive intensity. An intensity so fierce the bouncer, T.J., had warned her to steer clear, because he sensed the guy was dangerous.

But Tangie’s jewelry collection was growing by the week and all with just the promise that one day she’d let him sleep with her. But Vega became impatient and more aggressive until he was banned from the club.

She had a small apartment a few blocks from the club, so most nights she just walked, because even though the club had security, theft still occurred and she did not want to put her uninsured Lexus on the lot.

The first week after he was banned, Tangie was careful, watching around her as she walked home, knowing Vega might try something. But when almost a month went by without incident she let her guard down.

And that’s when he attacked.

Even five years later, Mikayla could still feel the pain as he shoved a knife into her ribs and beat her in the face with his fist. She could still feel the intense fear as she believed her life was about to end. She could still feel the terror as he forced her to the ground and tried to rape her.

Then there were these sounds around her as Vega fell back off her. Through her swollen eyes she could not make out what was happening, but the sounds eventually became distinguishable. There was the snarling and growling of a dog, chaos and commotion as the man and dog fought. Vega’s shouts of pain as the dog bit into his legs, his arms any part of the man she could reach. A heartbreaking yelp of pain as Vega managed to slice the dog with the knife. The sounds of Vega trying to get away. Mikayla thought the dog would follow and finish him off, but instead she stayed with Mikayla, barking her displeasure at the man’s retreating back. And then the silence.

Mikayla could hear the dog’s claws against the concrete as she paced. Her furry head nudged Mikayla until she moved. Seeming satisfied she was still alive, the dog continued her pacing, and Mikayla struggled to hold on to consciousness.

Later she would be told the attack lasted a few minutes, but to Mikayla those moments seemed an eternity. It may have been a few minutes but it was long enough to change her whole life.

While they waited for help, the dog would pace a while, then sit with her a while, and then pace some more. Mikayla thought this beast that came to her rescue would be the last thing she saw so she shared her soul’s confession.

Mikayla talked to her about how she resented her parents and her entire childhood. She told her about the warning Nisha had given her and how she wished she would’ve listened. She told her about how stripping had started out as fun, but somewhere she’d lost control of the game. And she told her about her dreams. Of how she’d always loved writing and if she managed to get out of this situation she would write. She even promised the mutt a home.

The nervous dog seemed to almost listen at times, but most of her attention was focused on the street, watching and waiting. When she thought she could not hold on any longer Mikayla surrendered to the heavy weight of a deep sleep.

It was almost three months before she became conscious of anything around her. Not awake exactly, it was more like a waking dream.

She heard the nurses discussing her situation right over her bed as if she were not there. They spoke of how she’d been downgraded from hospital to hospice because it was believed she had a short while to live.

The nurse spoke of a dog that had started hanging around outside the small hospice, much to the staff’s concern because she had blood caked in her fur. At first, Mikayla could not believe it was the same dog, but when she heard her familiar whimpering outside her first-floor window she knew it was.

Then something changed. She wasn’t sure if it were her concern for the dog that awakened her or the natural healing process. She only knew she was frightened of what would become of her protector.

She tried to tell the nurses how the dog had rescued her, but they showed little sympathy and attempted to have the dog picked up by animal control more than once. But the animal was smarter than they gave her credit for, disappearing before the truck arrived and returning when the coast was clear.

Meanwhile, Mikayla found out while she’d been hospitalized for three months, she’d lost her apartment and all her belongings and her Lexus had been repossessed.

Mikayla felt hopeless and helpless to do anything about the situation. Sensing her anxiety a volunteer had suggested she start a journal. Within a few days she’d filled several journal notebooks, spilling out all her thoughts and feelings and finding the process to be cathartic.

By the time she’d finished her journals she was looking at the eviction as a chance to start over. After all, the apartment and everything in it had belonged to Tangie, and Tangie no longer existed.

Mikayla began feeling better by the day. Her only sadness being she had no way to protect the animal that had fought so hard to protect her. The dog would disappear, sometimes for days at a time, but she always returned, and Mikayla was certain the animal control people would catch her and possibly euthanize her if they felt she was dangerous.

After rereading her journals several times, Mikayla got an idea. When she was healthy enough to walk, she began using the hospice library computer to organize her journals into a book. It took her almost a month, but finally it was ready to send off.

She found a literary agency in Florida and used the only return address she had, the hospice. Even as she asked a nurse to postmark it for her, Mikayla had decided the outcome didn’t matter. Regardless of whether it was published or not, just the sense of accomplishment was enough.

She was startled when an agent from the firm, Kandi Martin, showed up at the hospice unannounced. The woman had been intrigued by not only the book itself, but the return address of the writer. She’d come expecting to find someone on their deathbed, and instead found a woman on the road to recovery.

Mikayla had labeled the story fiction, but Kandi had known the moment she read it that it was based on real experiences and no matter how she tried to talk Mikayla into changing the category, she refused.

But she did open up to Kandi and explain the circumstances that had brought her to this place in her life, including the dog that rescued her. The two women came to a sort of strange agreement, one that included Kandi taking custody of the dog until Mikayla could get up on her feet.

Six months from the day of her attack, Mikayla purchased a new car. A small Chevy sedan and a far cry from her Lexus. And a week later, she had packed what few possessions she owned, her scruffy companion she’d christened “Angel,” and headed for Miami where Kandi lived, never looking back.

Over the past five years, she’d built a good life for herself, but had found there were side effects of the attack. She became more and more of a recluse until she’d cut off all contact with the outside world, except for Kandi.

That was when Kandi suggested the seminars. Reluctantly, Mikayla agreed to do one, and stumbled into her calling when she looked out over the faces of that first group of women, knowing each of those lives contained stories of pain and broken hearts. Somehow her book had brought them together, and now they were looking to her for words of healing. In that moment, she understood why everything had happened. It was so that the arrogant, selfish young woman she’d started out as could become the woman she was today.

As she pulled up in front of the conference center in Fort Lauderdale forty minutes later, Mikayla felt emotionally drained. She tried not to think back to that time in her life often, because even now the pain was too sharp. But she understood that sometimes looking back was necessary to see how far you’d come. And she had come so far.

Mikayla was very proud of the way she’d recovered from her attack, and turned her life around. The exotic dancer known as Tangie was dead. Mikayla had killed her the same night Vega had tried to take her life. That night, she’d been reborn into Mikayla Shroeder, Christian inspirational author and motivational speaker.

So much had changed in her life since that fateful night. The girl she once was would not even recognize the woman she’d become. That girl was careless, arrogant and selfish and it had cost her more than she ever dreamed possible.

But over the years, she’d become stronger, tougher than she ever imagined she could be. She grabbed her attaché and hopped out of the car. Seeing Dusty’s face before her once more, she shook away the image. It had been a long time since she’d been vulnerable to anyone, and she wasn’t about to start now.




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