Wild Action

Wild Action Dawn Stewardson A screwball romantic comedy with wild animal attraction!Animal magnetism!Nick Montgomery was a cop, not an animal trainer. At least, not until he quit his job on the promise of an inheritance and found out he owned half of Wild Action, an animal talent agency.The other half belonged to Carly Dumon, his dead uncle's protég?e, and a very attractive one at that. Of course, Nick told himself he wasn't interested. All he wanted was to put Wild Action in the black and sell his share so he could go back to his real life–even if that meant solving the mystery behind the series of "accidents" plaguing the agency.But that was before Attila the bear fell in love with him and refused to behave for anyone else. It was also before he fell in love with Carly, who didn't behave for anyone! Table of Contents Cover Page (#ue43c9de1-898e-581b-8207-0e216508d33f) Excerpt (#ufb66f3fd-a629-5355-b44c-e08f09a190a9) Dear Reader (#u3ae7e474-979b-536c-91b4-c54bd12b4fa6) Title Page (#ufd879068-0c51-5d60-8936-feb7777dad00) Dedication (#u5ff132e4-2d7a-50b1-8cbb-38fa6f3f3133) Chapter One (#u8371d6a1-685a-5d99-bd81-55761326990d) Chapter Two (#u5a9ca8c2-f260-5a44-b7f9-e76a115eef2a) Chapter Three (#ucc320c8d-5eaf-5260-aed8-3890a8468c75) Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo) Preview (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) “He’s not exactly Winnie the Pooh,” Nick whispered nervously. “He’s going to love you,” Carly whispered back. “Hi, Attila,” she called to the bear. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.” Attila grunted, then fixed Nick with a glare that didn’t look even remotely loving. Not that he really wanted the bear’s love. He’d be happy if it just didn’t eat him! Carly rubbed the big bear’s nose, then said, “Attila, that’s Nick. I want you to go and say hello to him. Two feet.” Standing up, he looked like an enormous sumo wrestler in a fur coat. “Good boy,” Carly said. “Now go say hello.” Attila gave a little snort and started toward Nick, who swallowed hard. “Hello, Attila.” The bear eyed him for another second, then took a final step forward, wrapped its arms around him and began squeezing him to death. Dear Reader, In Tinseltown, Wild Action would be pitched as a romantic screwball comedy: Dirty Harry meets Gentle Ben. Of course, hero Nick Montgomery meets a whole lot more critters than just Attila the bear when he inherits half of an animal talent agency. And in the beginning he doesn’t have a clue how to deal with any of them. He also doesn’t have a clue how to deal with his newfound partner, Carly Dumont But that’s what makes the romance fun. As an animal lover, I found this book a delight to write. It’s not often that my research involves something like visiting an animal ranch and being licked by a bear, but the research for this one did. (And yes, bears’ tongues really are warm and smooth. For some reason, I was expecting them to be rough, like a cat’s.) At any rate, I hope you enjoy reading about Carly, Nick and the antics of the animals in the Wild Action agency. Warmest regards, Dawn Stewardson Wild Action Dawn Stewardson www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) To John, always. With special thanks to Janet Howsam and Norman Phillips of the Northwood Buffalo and Exotic Animal Farm in Seagrave, Ontario, for giving me a special tour and patiently answering my “bear” questions. I hope all my Ontario readers come to visit you. CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ed41cfe7-67a6-5f84-9ed7-169309bc8a38) Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way “GOOD CAT,” Nick said, reaching the top of his ladder and swinging onto a main branch of the towering maple. “Good cat” From above, Blackie peered down with a little cat smirk. Nick took that to mean the beast was contemplating one of its higher-and-higher routines, and the prospect made him swear under his breath. He wasn’t a superstitious man, so it didn’t really bother him that Blackie made a point of crossing his path on a regular basis. But this trick with the tree was damned annoying—especially since he knew the cat would eventually come down on its own. At least, that’s what the several cat owners he’d asked had told him. Unfortunately, his next-door neighbor didn’t believe it. Even more unfortunately, Hilda was eighty-three years old and Blackie was the most important thing in her life. Nick swung up onto a higher branch; Blackie twitched his whiskers and glanced skyward. “Okay, here’s the deal, cat. You stay right where you are, and I’ll let you out of this with all your nine lives intact.” Blackie edged farther out on his branch to consider the offer. Nick climbed another foot or two, then tried a quick grab. The cat managed to hiss, lash out with a paw and scramble backward all at the same time. Nick checked his hand and saw the beast had drawn blood. Thus far, it was definitely winning this round, so he fixed it with one of his best cop glares. “I’m warning you, I’ve been up all night and I’m in no mood for your games. I need sleep, not exercise.” Blackie made a low growling noise and arched his back. Nick muttered a few ungentlemanly words in reply. He’d spent the past fifteen hours convincing an escaped con to release his hostage, and he’d done a far better job of negotiating with the man than he was doing with Blackie. Of course, the con had spoken English. The cat only spoke Meow. He considered that for a moment. Then, telling himself nobody would ever know, he stared Blackie straight in the eye and hissed loudly. The cat blinked, looking startled. He recovered in a second, but not before Nick made another grab— and this time lucked out. Gingerly pulling the squalling animal to his chest, he pinned it with one arm and started back down the tree, thinking that if anyone ever tried to give him so much as a pet rat, he’d take off on the dead run. “Oh, thank you so much,” Hilda said as he reached the ground and handed Blackie to her. “I don’t know what I’ll do after you move.” “Well, with any luck your new neighbor will be a tree climber, too.” He listened absently while Hilda promised him freshly baked cookies, wishing she hadn’t reminded him he was being evicted. He’d been renting this place for six years and he’d be happy to stay for six more. But when an owner decided to sell, the tenant generally had to go. Once Hilda finished thanking him, Nick escaped into his house—grabbing the morning’s mail from the box and riffling through it as he went. There was the usual junk, a couple of bills…and a letter from the firm of Evans, Broderick and Rowan, Barristers and Solicitors, in Toronto. Staring at the return address, he wondered what a law firm in Toronto wanted with a police detective in Edmonton, Alberta. None of the possibilities that popped into his mind appealed to him. He really wasn’t a superstitious man. But he’d seen bad news come in threes often enough to figure there just might be something to that one. And right now he was at two and counting. First there’d been the bombshell that he’d have to find a new place to live—which he still hadn’t managed to do, even though time was getting awfully tight. Then, just last week, the best partner he’d ever had announced he was taking early retirement at the end of the summer. So this letter… Hell, the way things were going, he was probably being sued. Ripping the envelope open, he unfolded the letter and began reading. Dear Mr. Montgomery, I am writing to inform you that your late father’s brother, Augustus Montgomery, passed away on the second of July. Nick paused to glance at the date on the letter. It had been written on the sixth, ten days ago. Canada Post must have routed it through the Northwest Territories. Picking up where he’d left off, he continued reading. His last will and testament names you as his only living relative and the sole beneficiary of his estate, which is primarily comprised of a rural property in Ontario and a company that operates under the name of Wild Action. Please contact my office at your earliest convenience so that we may proceed with transferring legal ownership of these assets to you. My direct line is (416) 555-1711. Yours truly, William Brown, LL.B. His heart beating faster than normal, Nick tried to decide whether he should be feeling sad about Gus’s death—finally telling himself there was no reason to. After all, he’d never even met the man, and he’d certainly never heard a good word about him. Much the opposite, in fact. During his younger years, Gus had worked in the family business along with Nick’s father and grandfather. Then, one day, he’d vanished, and the others had quickly discovered he’d embezzled a small fortune from the company and left them on the verge of bankruptcy. Gus had never been heard from again, and it was surprising he’d even known he had a nephew. So why hadn’t he left his estate to a friend? Or to charity? The obvious answer was that he’d felt guilty and was trying to make restitution. Unless… Nick skimmed the letter once more, warning himself not to get too excited until he had a few more details. According to the stories his parents used to tell, Gus had been a practical joker as well as a thief. Which meant he could be reaching out from the grave to play a final joke—by leaving Nick property that was worthless and a company mired in debt There was an easy way to find out, though, so he picked up the phone and dialed Brown’s number, glancing at his watch as he finished. With the time difference, it was already past noon in Toronto, but hopefully the man took late lunches. “Mr. Brown’s office,” a woman answered. “Yes. My name’s Nick Montgomery. Mr. Brown asked me to get in touch.” “Well, he’s in court all day today. But if you’d like to leave your number, he’ll return your call tomorrow.” Nick swore to himself. He didn’t want to spend the next twenty-four hours wondering exactly what was what “Are you familiar with the Augustus Montgomery estate?” he tried. “Could I ask you a couple of questions about it?” “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have any answers. I’m just filling in for Mr. Brown’s secretary while she’s at lunch. But if you’d like, I could ask one of the other lawyers to speak with you.” “Great. That would be terrific.” He waited for what seemed like forever—imagining how happy this call was going to make his long-distance carrier—until a different woman came on the line and introduced herself as Linda Weaver, one of Brown’s associates. “I’ve pulled Bill’s file on Mr. Montgomery,” she said, “and I’ll try to answer your questions. What would you like to know?” “Well, at the risk of sounding mercenary, is there even a ballpark figure on the value of the estate?” He waited again, this time listening to the soft rustle of shuffling papers. “Not that I can see,” she said at last. “Bill would probably have a pretty good idea, but I’m new to the firm. I don’t know much about any of his clients.” “So…for all you know the property could be a marsh.”. That elicited a laugh. “I wouldn’t think so. There’s a house on it. That’s where your uncle lived. And let’s see…It’s a hundred acres in all, about an hour’s—maybe an hour and a half’s—drive from Toronto.” Nick could feel his excitement growing. Even if it wasn’t much of a house, a hundred acres near Toronto had to be worth something. On the other hand, what if the company was in the red? Was that where the joke came in? Was he liable for a stack of debts? “And what about this Wild Action?” he asked. “Is it a money loser?” Linda rustled some more papers, then said, “No, the financial statement shows it as profitable—with revenues of more than a million dollars last year.” A sudden buzzing in Nick’s head made him afraid he’d misheard. “More than a million?” he repeated. “Uh-huh, a million and ninety-one thousand, to be exact.” Dollar signs began floating in front of his eyes. That was definitely a go out and celebrate with champagne kind of number. But what sort of business were they talking about? When he asked, Linda said, ’I’m not sure. It’s a private company, so there’s no annual report. But the name sounds awfully familiar. Just hold on a second. I’ll ask someone else.” Nick heard her putting down the receiver. Then there was a murmur of female voices in the background. Eventually, Linda came back on the line, saying, “We’re pretty sure it’s a brand of casual wear. You know? Something like Northern Adventure or Rough and Ready?” After profusely thanking the lawyer for her help, Nick hung up, his. mind reeling. He told himself to calm down, that he didn’t really believe in omens any more than he believed in superstitions. But wouldn’t anyone take this as a sign from the gods? For the past year or so, he’d been running on empty. He’d joined the force when he was only twenty, and after fourteen years he’d seen enough of the seamy side of life to last the rest of his days. On top of which, the bureaucracy on the job was getting more and more intolerable. He wanted out, wanted to get a private investigator’s license and set up his own agency—the sooner the better. Some days, it was all he could do to keep from walking into the staff sergeant’s office and quitting. But he’d been holding himself back because he hadn’t managed to save anywhere near enough money. Now, the money was magically there. Or would be, as soon as he sold that business and the land. For a minute, he sat mentally reviewing his caseload. There were no serious loose ends that demanded that he tie them up personally, which meant nobody would really care if he left on short notice. So that was what he was going to do. The idea felt right, and he’d never been a man to delay acting once his mind was made up. Reaching for the phone again, he pressed redial. This time, he made an appointment to see William Brown at two o’clock the next day. After that, he booked an obscenely early morning flight to Toronto—with an open return date. He had no idea how long transferring legal ownership would take. Plus, he’d need a day or two to get the business and property listed for sale. Finally, charged with exhilaration, he left for head-quarters to turn in his badge. AS THE ELEVATOR CARRIED him up to the law offices of Evans, Broderick and Rowan, Nick was still trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had been nagging him since yesterday. An hour or two after he’d walked out of headquarters, he’d realized he should have asked Linda Weaver about Wild Action’s profits, as opposed to revenues, before he’d gone ahead and quit. After all, aside from his meager savings, those profits were all he’d have to live on until he got things sold. But his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders during their conversation—partly because he’d been dead on his feet and partly because her revenue figure had pretty much stopped him cold. The elevator slowed to a halt and its door slid open. Telling himself yet again that any company earning more than a million dollars a year had to be making substantial profits, he strode across the waiting area to the receptionist. “Mr. Montgomery to see Mr. Brown.” She gestured toward a hall. “Straight along there. It’s the last door on the left.” “Would you mind if I left my suitcase out here?” “Not at all.” Parking it near her desk, he straightened his tie and headed down the hall. To his surprise, when Brown’s secretary ushered him into the inner office, there were three people waiting for him—two middle-aged men and a great-looking woman who couldn’t be more than thirty. “Mr. Montgomery, I’m Bill Brown.” The man behind the desk rose. “Okay if I call you Nick?” “Sure.” “I’d have known you anywhere,” Brown added as they shook hands. “You bear a strong resemblance to your uncle.” Nick simply nodded. His parents had told him that years ago, and right now he was more interested in hearing who the two in the visitors’ chairs were. The man might be a lawyer, an associate of Brown’s, but the woman wasn’t. She was wearing a casual dress, minimal makeup, and her dark hair was hanging loosely down her back. She definitely wasn’t a big-city professional. So who was she and why was she here? When no logical answer came to mind, his anxiety level began edging upward. “I’d like you to meet Carly Dumont and Roger Harris,” Brown said. Nick nodded an acknowledgment, then looked at Brown once more. “Please have a seat, Nick.” Casually shifting the remaining visitor’s chair so he’d be able to keep an eye on everyone, he sat. “We were just talking about your being a police detective,” Harris said. “It must be interesting work.” “Some days yes, some days no.” Nick left it at that. There was no reason to update total strangers on his job status. Not when he’d rather find Out what was going on here. “Carly worked for your uncle,” Brown offered. “She was his right hand at Wild Action. Roger is her lawyer.” “And her friend, I like to think,” Roger Harris added. “Just as I was Gus’s.” Ignoring Harris, Nick focused on Carly Dumont, anger starting to simmer inside him. His brain was working just fine today, and he didn’t need any more clues to figure out exactly what the story was. This woman intended to contest Gus’s will. He glanced at Brown again, wondering if she had a legal leg to stand on. But he’d be damned if he’d ask with her sitting there listening. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Brown continued. “I only learned about it this morning, when Roger called me.” “I see. And I assume it involves Ms. Dumont?” “Yes, it does. It seems your Uncle Gus had Roger prepare a new will a year or so ago. A more recent one, I mean, than the one in my files. I’ve had a look at it, and there’s no doubt it’s valid. And under its terms, Gus’s estate is to be divided between you and Carly.” Nick willed Brown to grin and say he was joking. Instead, Harris cleared his throat and said, “Bill, perhaps you’d better make clear precisely what the will states.” “Yes, of course. I was just getting to that. Nick, the division isn’t fifty-fifty. Your uncle left forty-nine percent of his estate to you and fifty-one percent to Carly.” Nick could feel himself starting to grow numb. “I’m sorry this is coming as a shock to you,” Carly said quietly. “But until last night, I didn’t know about it myself.” “You see,” Harris explained, “my practice is in Port Perry, which is the closest town to your uncle’s property. That’s how we knew each other. And when Gus had me draw up the will, he said he didn’t want Carly to know she was a beneficiary while he was alive.” “But he died on July second,” Nick managed, his voice sounding more than a little strangled. “That was more than two weeks ago.” “Yes. I only learned about his death last night, though. I’d been out of town.” “And I’d called Bill right away, because he’s the company lawyer,” Carly put in. “Gus’s only lawyer, as far as I knew.” “As far as I knew, too,” Brown said. “Which is why I didn’t hesitate about contacting Nick,” he added, glancing at Harris and looking darned put out that Gus had gotten himself a second lawyer. “Any of us would have contacted the beneficiary right away,” Harris told him. “In any event,” he continued, focusing on Nick, “as soon as I got home and learned Gus had died, I advised Carly of the existence of the new will.” “I tried to reach you this morning, Nick, after Roger phoned me,” Brown said. “But you must have already been on your way to Toronto.” Their explanation complete, the other three sat watching him while he sat trying to think straight. But he couldn’t think past the fact that fifty-one percent of the estate belonged to Carly Dumont. And a controlling interest would give her the right to call the shots. He looked at Brown. “You said this other will is definitely valid?” “I’m afraid so.” “Then why didn’t Gus tell you about it?” “There’s no law that says he had to. Or maybe he meant to and forgot. He tended to be absentminded.” “But definitely of sound mind,” Harris said quickly. “No doubt about that. He was sharp as a tack, right Carly? And he seemed in good health, too.” She nodded. “He was just fine on July first. We went to a Canada Day party and he was dancing up a storm. But…” Pausing, she wiped away a tear. “I don’t know whether it was too much sun or all the exertion or what, but he wasn’t feeling well before he went to bed. And in the morning…When I tried to wake him, he was gone.” “A heart attack in his sleep,” Brown elaborated. “You tried to wake him?” Nick said. “You mean you lived with him?” “Uh-huh. For twelve years.” Nick gazed at her, wondering if his parents had known that Gus was into cradle robbing along with all his other sins. Then he forced his thoughts back to the problem at hand and tried to convince himself this wasn’t a total calamity. After all, it was only half of his inheritance that had vanished overnight, whereas Gus’s new will might have left everything to Carly. Besides, with any luck, his forty-nine percent would be more than he needed. Glancing at her again, he forced a smile. When she tentatively smiled back, it made him feel a little better. She seemed like a reasonable woman, so how hard could it be to work things out? Carly felt herself starting to breathe more easily. She was still up to her ears in problems, of course, but at least Nick Montgomery wasn’t turning out to be an additional one. On the way here, she’d let her imagination run rampant, picturing him as an enormous dragon who’d kill her by breathing fireballs when he heard he was only getting part of the estate. In reality, he was a good-looking man—with a very nice smile and rugged features that made his appearance decidedly masculine. And even though he was clearly upset, she couldn’t see any homicidal impulses dancing in his gray eyes. “Let’s lay our cards on the table,” he said, leaning forward in his chair and meeting her gaze. “I have absolutely no interest in the fashion industry, so the best thing all around would be for you to buy me out.” She glanced at Roger. When he seemed as puzzled as she was, she looked at Nick once more. “The fashion industry?” “Yes. I wouldn’t know a fashion trend from a snowplow, so—” “Wait. You mean you’ve been thinking that Wild Action’s in the fashion business?” “Ahh…You’re saying it’s not?” “Nick?” Bill said before she could answer. “There are so many movies shot in Toronto that it’s known as Hollywood North. It masquerades as New York, Chicago, Detroit, you name it.” “It’s cheaper to film here because of our low dollar,” Roger added. “At any rate,” Bill continued, “Wild Action is an animal talent agency that supplies animal actors.” Carly watched Nick digest that information, feeling distinctly sorry for him. His expression said he’d just as soon have inherited half a leper colony. “Do you know much about animals?” she asked when nobody else broke the silence. “I see a lot of the neighbor’s cat,” he muttered. She glanced at the scratch on his hand. It made her suspect he and the cat weren’t the best of friends. “Actually, when I was a kid I used to spend part of the summers on a ranch,” he went on. “So I know something about horses and cattle. That’s really it, though. But I guess it doesn’t matter what kind of business it is. Your buying me out is still the simplest way of settling things.” “Yes…it would be. If I had any money.” “Well, there must be money in the company, so if we—” “No, I’m afraid there’s not,” she interrupted, hoping the fact wouldn’t reflect too badly on Gus. There probably should have been a lot more money than there was, but he’d always said money was for spending. “But if it’s profitable…” Nick said. “I don’t have that wrong, too, do I? I was told it was.” “And it is. It’s just not very profitable. We have a lot of expenses.” “What? More than a million bucks’ worth?” “Well, Gus was always trying to expand and improve. You know, replace old equipment, upgrade the facilities. Just this spring, we built a big new aviary for the owls.” “We have owls,” Nick said dully. “Uh-huh, and some other birds of prey. At any rate, between improvements and the day-to-day expenses… The bear’s food alone costs over a thousand dollars a month.” Nick’s face went pale beneath his tan. “A bear? What kind of bear?” “Oh, just a little black bear.” Roger snorted. “You call Attila little? Hell, Gus told me he was pushing six hundred pounds.” “Well…yes, I guess he is on the large side for a black bear,” Carly admitted, wishing Nick wasn’t looking more upset by the second. “I just meant he’s not a grizzly or anything really big.” “And his name’s Attila?” Nick said. “As in Attila the Hun?” “Yes, but he’s actually a sweetie. His only drawback is that he does eat up a fair bit of the revenue.” “So to speak,” Nick said dryly. “Yes…so to speak.” She smiled, surprised he could joke under the circumstances. He eyed her for a long moment, then said, “Do we own a swamp full of alligators, too?” She eyed him back, not entirely sure whether she found his sense of humor amusing or annoying. “If a movie’s set in a swamp, nobody’s going to shoot it in Canada,” she said at last. “So having alligators would be rather foolish. But getting back to the point I was making, the bottom line is that there’s no money. The company’s entire cash reserves would barely buy you a ticket home to Edmonton.” Nick rubbed his jaw, looking even more unhappy. “Then do you know anyone who’d be interested in buying my forty-nine percent?” She shook her head. “I expect finding an investor would take time,” Roger said. “People are leery of getting into minority ownership positions. Besides which, Wild Action isn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill sort of business.” “What about mortgaging the property?” Bill Brown suggested. Roger gave him a quizzical glance. “It’s already mortgaged to the hilt. Did Gus forget to mention that, too?” Carly glanced at Bill, wishing Gus had kept him better informed. The man was obviously not pleased that Roger kept handing him surprises. “We took out the mortgage when we had a chance to buy a new trailer for Attila,” she explained. “We desperately needed one to get him to shoot sites, but it cost a small fortune. And Gus said that as long as we were taking out a mortgage anyway, we might as well make it big enough to build the new aviary and fix up a few other things. “But look,” she continued, focusing on Nick, “I’m really sorry things aren’t the way you expected them to be. I feel badly about the whole situation.” He exhaled slowly. She couldn’t feel anywhere near as bad as he did. But it wasn’t her fault there was a new will. And he’d known bad news came in threes, so if he’d used his brain, he wouldn’t have been so damn quick about quitting his job. Then this situation wouldn’t be such a disaster. “Nick?” Brown said. “Lawyers are always coming across people who want to invest in a business. So if both Roger and I keep an eye out, sooner or later we’ll find someone to buy your share.” Sooner or later. Nick had no doubt it would be later rather than sooner, and what the hell was he going to do in the meantime? Or maybe he should be more concerned about what was going to happen to the company in the meantime. Carly might have been Gus’s right hand, but that didn’t guarantee she could run things herself. “Carly?” he said. “Are you going to be able to manage the business on your own?” She shook her head. “I’ve found a high school kid to help out for the moment, but I’ll have to get somebody who knows more about animals. And hopefully has a head for business.” “Absolutely,” Harris agreed. “And fast. You couldn’t possibly handle everything yourself even if you didn’t have the Get Real people practically on your front porch.” “The Get Real people?” Nick said. Carly looked at him as if she couldn’t believe he had to ask. “Get Real Productions. An up-and-coming player in L.A. Gus landed us a film contract not long ago—for a film directed by Jay Wall, no less. And Get Real is providing the financing.” Nick nodded. He didn’t have a clue who Jay Wall was, but he could do without another of Carly’s “Did you just crawl out of a cave?” looks. “They’ve already been filming in Toronto for a week,” she went on. “So any day now, Jay’s going to decide he wants to start shooting the wilderness scenes. “This was supposed to be our big break,” she added. “Gus said that if a director like Jay Wall was happy with our animals, the sky would be the limit But now…” “But now?” Nick prompted, the uncertainty in her voice making him nervous. “Well, it’s still the limit. And this movie will really help with the bottom line. Gus negotiated a great fee for the animals, plus Jay’s doing a lot of the shooting on our land and we’ll get paid for that So Wild Action will have cash in the bank—assuming things go well.” “You mean we won’t get paid if they don’t?” “Well…if we don’t fulfill our end of the contract… If the animals didn’t perform well enough or something.” “Is that a real possibility?” Carly shrugged uneasily. “I’m afraid that with Gus gone there are some problems. And if Jay doesn ’t end up happy, not getting all our money for the film wouldn’t be our only worry. He’s the type who’d go out of his way to ensure Wild Action’s name was mud.” That possibility was enough to make Nick break into a cold sweat. He owned forty-nine percent of land that was mortgaged to the hilt and a company that might self-destruct if Carly didn’t please some hotshot director. If that happened, forty-nine percent of Wild Action would probably be worth about a dollar and a quarter. “But if you do make Jay happy?” he said. “It would open the door to more Hollywood deals, and Wild Action would have so much money coming in that you wouldn’t have to look for a buyer. I’d be able to buy you out in no time.” Which meant, Nick realized, the only intelligent thing for him to do was help make Jay Wall as happy as hell. And if that required a stint of playing zookeeper… The prospect sure wasn’t appealing, but it seemed like the only sensible solution. Of course, he had to move at the end of the month, but he could always get some of his buddies to put his things in storage for a while. “How long will this movie take?” he asked Carly. “It’s hard to be sure. When Jay’s on location he shoots every day—assuming the weather’s right for the scenes. But the animals don’t always cooperate, and without Gus… “But if things go right, they shouldn’t be filming on our property for more than a month or so.” Nick nodded, his decision made. He could stand anything if it was only for a month or so. Besides, he assumed that if you weren’t pretty hard-nosed, those Hollywood types would walk all over you. And after a couple of looks into Carly’s big brown eyes, he figured she was about as tough as a marshmallow. “What if I stuck around for a while?” he suggested. “As a working partner. That would get you through this movie and let you look for someone to hire.” “You could do that? What about your job?” He shrugged. Damned if he was going to admit he’d been such an idiot yesterday. “I’m sure I could work out some kind of leave.” “That would be ideal,” Harris said. “Having someone with a vested interest helping out.” “Why don’t you see about it right now,” Brown suggested, sliding his phone across the desk. “I’d feel a lot better if I knew things were arranged.” Nick desperately tried to think of a reason for not seeing about it right now, but no divine inspiration came. So either he had to admit he’d quit his job— barely two seconds after saying he could take a leave from it—or he had to pick up that phone. “Well?” Brown said. Wishing to hell he’d been thinking more and talking less, Nick reached for the phone, punched in his own number and had a brief conversation with his answering machine. “Done,” he said, clicking off. “I can take up to six weeks.” The sick-looking smile Carly gave him said she wasn’t exactly thrilled about that—which he found darned irritating. She needed help and he was offering to help her. Of course, he’d be looking after his own interests as well as hers, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that instead of being grateful, she looked as if she were racking her brain for some alternative solution. “Is there a problem with this idea?” he finally asked. Carly hesitated. There were several problems with it, but she did need someone. More specifically, she was pretty sure what she needed was a man with a deep voice. Like Nick’s. And her odds of getting anyone else on short notice… She just wished she weren’t certain Nick would have a fit when he found out what he’d have to do. It was hardly a matter of helping out with horses and cattle. “No,” she said at last. “There’s no problem. You just took me by surprise.” “Fine. Then it’s settled. I mean, I’m assuming there’s a spare bedroom in the house?” “Ahh…yes, of course. It has four bedrooms.” She reminded herself Nick was a police detective, which surely meant he wasn’t into rape and pillage. But that only alleviated one worry. The scratch he was sporting hardly boded well for his ability to work with animals—in which case he might turn out to be more of a liability than an asset. Just for starters, what if Attila didn’t like him? Or what if Nick was too frightened of the bear to try working with him? For a moment, she considered telling him that was what she really needed help with. Then she decided she’d better save it for later. Nick obviously expected her to say something, though, so she asked if he knew anything about the movie industry. “No, but I’ve always been a quick study.” She managed a smile. He gave her a warm one in return. Roger and Bill were positively beaming. But if the three of them figured this was such a great arrangement, why was her intuition saying it had all the makings of a catastrophe? CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_626045fa-ae76-5457-a255-195a087364e9) Close Encounters of the Furry Kind WHILE SHE WAS ATTEMPTING to get them out of downtown Toronto, Carly got lost so many times Nick stopped counting. Instead, he started thinking that if she proved to be as good at running a business as she was at navigating, he’d made a wise move by deciding to stick around and keep an eye on his inheritance. Their conversation was interrupted every time she pulled over to check her street map, which made it awfully disjointed, but by the time they found the Don Valley Parkway and were headed north, she’d managed to tell him a little about most of the animals they owned. To his relief, the bear was the only potential mankiller in the bunch. Aside from Attila, there were the birds in the aviary, a couple of ponies named Paint and Brush, a parrot called Crackers and a few cats and dogs. Oh, and she’d mentioned rabbits, as well, but they didn’t sound like much work. They wandered around loose, so it was only a matter of giving them food and keeping an eye on them. Similarly, Rocky, the trained coon, did his own thing at night and slept on the porch roof during the day. Actually, Nick had assumed there’d be a lot more animals than there were, but when he told Carly that, she gave him a sidelong glance and said, “Trained animals all need to be worked with or they don’t stay trained. That’s where the agency part comes in. We have a lot of animals under contract that are owned by other people. Everything from lizards and snakes to tigers and an elephant.” When she lapsed into silence, he immediately started thinking about the bear again. “This Attila,” he said. “How did you end up with him?” “He was orphaned by a hunter—would have died if we hadn’t taken him in. He’d either have starved to death or been eaten by an adult bear.” Bears didn’t exactly sound like charming animals, but Nick kept the thought to himself. “So Gus and I bottle-raised him,” Carly went on, “until he got too big to live in the house.” “Ahh. And he doesn’t mind being in a cage now? All by himself?” “Oh, he’s not lonely. Bears aren’t pack animals, so he’d be on his own in the wild. And he doesn’t live in a cage. Gus didn’t believe in caging wild animals, and neither do I.” “You mean…” Nick cleared his throat uneasily. “You mean, he wanders around loose? Like the rabbits?” “Well, no. He’d find some of the other animals just too tempting, so he’s got a fenced field—with a pond to swim in and a bunker Gus built him for hibernating. We call it his cave.” Nick nodded, wishing it was January instead of July. He’d be a lot happier if Attila was hibernating, because he had a horrible feeling a fence wouldn’t stop a six-hundred-pound bear that really wanted out of its field. But maybe it was declawed and detoothed and whatever. When he asked, the look of utter horror on Carly’s face told him there wasn’t a chance. And he’d lay odds it was his forty-nine percent of the beast that included the claws and teeth. Apparently, Carly did mind reading on the side, because she said, “There’s nothing to worry about, Nick. Attila’s a real pet.” He nodded, but it was tough to get his head around the idea of a pet that weighed as much as three large men put together. “So…you’re not nervous working with him?” “No, not at all.” Without a doubt, that was the best news he’d heard since he’d learned they had a bear. He had every intention of doing his share of the work, for the next few weeks, but he’d be drawing the line at Attila. And that meant it was a darn good thing she had no problem with him. Carly drove a little farther up the parkway, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted the exit sign for the highway. She’d missed it more than once in the past and always had a devil of a time making her way back. “I guess you’ve noticed I don’t have much sense of direction,” she said, pulling onto the exit ramp. “But I’ll be okay from here.” “Good.” “That’s how I ended up with Gus,” she went on when Nick said nothing more. “It was because I got lost.” “Oh?” “Uh-huh. I grew up in Kingston, which is where my parents still live. But after I finished high school I had a chance for a summer job in Toronto, and I took a wrong turn on the way there.” Nick eyed her for a minute, making her wish she’d kept quiet. Everybody had faults, though, and surely he couldn’t think that having a poor sense of direction ranked right up there with pulling wings off flies. “Isn’t there a major highway that runs between Kingston and Toronto?” he asked at last. “The one we’re on now,” she admitted. “But I guess I wasn’t paying attention and zigged when I should have zagged. At any rate, the car I’d borrowed quit on me, so I walked down the nearest side road until I reached a house—which turned out to be Gus’s. And when we got talking, he mentioned he’d been looking for someone to help with the animals.” “Then you just moved in with him?” Nick’s tone made her look at him. Surely he didn’t think… Just in case he did, she said, “I assume you didn’t mean moved in the way it sounded. I was an eighteen-year-old kid and Gus was fifty-nine, so there was certainly nothing like that.” “No. No, of course not.” “Everyone who’d ever worked full-time for him lived in the house. It only made sense.” “Right. All I was thinking was…most eighteen-year-olds wouldn’t have buried themselves out in the country. It couldn’t have done much for your social life.” The remark made her smile. Her mother had been worried about that from day one. “It was worth the trade-off,” she said honestly. “I love working with animals—it’s not really like working at all. So even though I’d only intended to stay through the summer, I ended up never leaving. And Gus gradually became like a favorite uncle to me. He was the sweetest man in the world. It’s too bad you didn’t get to know him.” “I had no chance to. He cut off contact with the family before I was born.” She didn’t reply for a moment, trying to decide if Gus would have minded her explaining things. Finally, she said, “He never intended that to be forever, you know.” “No?” “No, he assumed he’d eventually be able to cope with seeing her again.” “Seeing who again?” Carly glanced across the van once more, her heart sinking when she saw Nick’s puzzled expression. Surely she hadn’t put her foot in it, had she? “Your parents must have told you what happened,” she tried tentatively. “Why Gus left Edmonton.” “Well…yeah.” Nick sounded as puzzled as he looked, which meant she had said the wrong thing. “Actually, my parents told me all kinds of stories about Gus, but I’m not quite sure which one you were referring to.” “Oh. Well, if you’re not, then they didn’t tell you everything. So I should have kept quiet.” “Why? I can handle whatever you were going to say. So who did Gus think he’d eventually be able to cope with seeing again?” She stared ahead at the highway, not wanting to answer the question. But what else could she do? Making something up wasn’t an option. She hated being lied to, so she never lied to anyone else unless she felt it was really necessary. “I guess it doesn’t matter much at this point,” she finally said. “But Gus was in love with your mother.” “What!” “It’s true,” she told him gently. “They both were. Both Gus and your father. And when she chose your father, she broke Gus’s heart. That’s why he left town. “But he assumed that after enough time had passed he’d stop caring. I guess he never did, though. Then he learned your parents had died. I I’m sorry about that.” “Thanks,” Nick said, hoping she wouldn’t pursue the subject. His parents had been gone for five years, but he still didn’t like to talk about the crash. They’d taken up their Cessna knowing a storm was closing in. And ever since, he’d wished he’d objected more strongly to the way they flew regardless of the weather. Not that they’d have listened, but still… “Gus always kept in touch with a friend in Edmonton,” Carly continued. “Which is how he knew about their accident. And about your being a detective and all.” Nick nodded, then sat staring out at the passing countryside, his thoughts returning to the story Gus had told Carly. He’d certainly been a sly old fox, because the truth was what Nick’s parents had told him. There was no doubt about that. From the day his grandfather discovered that Gus had made off with their money, he’d never even allowed his elder son’s name to be spoken in his presence. But Gus had obviously reinvented his past, making it tragically romantic—which certainly fit with everything Nick had ever heard about him. Glancing across the van, he eyed Carly for a minute. In the bright sunlight, he could see there were pale freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. Between that and the way the air conditioner’s breeze was playing with strands of her hair, she seemed a lot younger than she had in Brown’s office. Younger and very innocent-looking—the kind of woman who aroused a man’s protective instincts without even trying. Not that she’d aroused his. The only reason he was hanging around was to protect his own interests. Hers simply happened to coincide. “What did you know about your uncle?” she asked. He hesitated, then said, “I guess not as much as I thought” For half a second, he’d considered telling her the truth. But since she’d cared for Gus, it would only upset her—assuming she’d even believe it And she likely wouldn’t. If she’d worked with him for twelve years and referred to him as the sweetest man in the world, he must have really cleaned up his act “You obviously didn’t know he’d gotten into the animal-actor business,” she said. “But you’ll get a kick out of hearing how it happened. Initially, he won a share of Wild Action in a poker game.” Nick grinned. That sounded more like the uncle he’d always heard about He’d bet Gus had been cheating, too. Carly looked over at Nick once more, thinking that while he was smiling might be a good time to bring the conversation back to the subject of Attila. But when she tried, she couldn’t make the bear’s name come out, so she said, “Then, eventually, Gus took over the entire agency. It was a smaller operation in those days, and it wasn’t doing very well, but he’d discovered he was good with animals. So he bought a big piece of property and began gradually attracting clients.” Focusing on the road ahead once more, she told herself she was a chicken. And that she was going to have to tell Nick about the problem with Attila very soon. But maybe it would be better to wait until they got home and he’d unpacked. And it would probably help to give him a stiff drink of Gus’s best Scotch first. “What’s this movie we’re involved with?” he asked after she’d turned north onto Highway 12. “It’s called Two for Trouble. And it’s basically about two ten-year-old boys who take off from summer camp and get lost in the woods. That’s the part of the film Jay will be shooting on Gus’s…our property. A lot of it’s forest.” “And the stuff he’s shooting in Toronto?” “Oh, those scenes are supposedly in Manhattan. And the summer camp’s supposedly in upper New York State—but they’ll actually be using Camp Runa-Muck, near Lindsay. “At any rate, the opening scenes in the city show the parents getting the boys ready for camp. The adults are the name actors—Sarina Westlake and Garth Richards. You know them? She looks a lot like Meg Ryan, and he’s the Latin-lover type.” “Uh-huh. I know the two you mean. They’re married in real life, aren’t they?” “Yes. But in the movie they play single parents who fall in love while they’re helping search for their kids.” Nick waited for Carly to go on. When she didn’t, he said, “That’s it? That’s all there is to the plot?” “Well, Jay’s the kind of director who improvises, so I expect he’ll add a few extra wrinkles during the shooting.” “Or maybe a lot of extra wrinkles? I mean, it doesn’t exactly sound like a box office smash.” “Let’s just hope it is, because Gus held out for a small percentage of the profits.” “Oh? How small?” She held up her hand with her thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart “Oh,” Nick said, looking disappointed. “He did really well to get anything. In any event, the movie might turn out to be a lot better than the story line sounds. I’ve read the script, and there’s pretty good adventure and drama, what with the boys in a woods full of wild animals.” “And Attila’s one of the wild animals?” She nodded but didn’t elaborate. It really would be better to leave any further discussion of that until later. “We’re almost home,” she said, pointing toward the township sign and changing the subject. “Township of Scugog,” Nick read aloud. “In Ojibway, it means ‘muddy, shallow water.’” “Ahh.” When he seemed content to simply watch the passing scenery for the remainder of the trip, Carly let her thoughts drift back to the meeting in Brown’s office. Nick had taken the bad news a lot more coolly than she would have. But she had a horrible feeling he wasn’t going to be even half as cool when it came to Attila. Turning onto the Sixth Line, she decided it might be smart to give her new partner four or five drinks of Gus’s best Scotch before they talked about Attila. WHEN THEY TURNED ONTO the gravel road that Carly said led to the house, Nick could see she hadn’t been joking about a lot of their property being forest. Huge trees overhung the road on either side, with only the hydro poles and power lines to indicate this wasn’t really the middle of nowhere. Then the road curved and they were at one edge of a fifteen-or twenty-acre clearing with the house ahead in the distance. Built of gorgeous old fieldstone, it had white gingerbread trim on both the second-story gables and the overhang of the porch. He was just about to comment on how nice it was when four large gray blurs appeared from nowhere and streaked toward the van. “Wolves?” he said anxiously. “You didn’t tell me we had wolves.” “We don’t. Those are the dogs. We took them because they looked so much like gray wolves, even as pups, but they’re actually half husky and half malamute. “They’re perfectly safe. They don’t even bother the rabbits,” she added, giving him an amused glance as she pulled the van to a stop. “Their names are Harpo, Chico, Groucho and Zeppo. Collectively, of course, we refer to them as the Marx brothers.” And Uncle Gus, Nick remembered someone once mentioning, had been a huge Marx brothers fan. “I said we, didn’t I?” Carly murmured with a sad little smile. “I wonder how long it’ll take before I stop doing that.” She got out of the van and hugged each of the dogs in turn. Then they rushed around to the passenger’s side and stood eyeing Nick through the window— drooling as if they were looking at lunch. Checking them out from up close, he wondered if Carly was certain they weren’t at least part wolf. They were one hell of a size, and he’d never seen any other dogs with those sinister-looking yellow eyes. Telling himself they weren’t a whole lot bigger than the German shepherds the police used, he opened his door and climbed out—the heat and humidity hitting him hard. It had been hot in Alberta, but that was a dry heat. Ontario was at least as hot and sixty times more humid. He cautiously extended his hand and let the dogs sniff it. Despite their appearance, they seemed friendly enough, so he risked taking his eyes off them long enough to get his suitcase and jacket from the back. “I thought Dylan might still be here, but his truck’s gone,” Carly said. “The high school kid who’s been helping out,” she explained. Nick nodded, then gestured toward the wooden building with the wired-in open area that stood maybe sixty yards away. “That’s the new aviary you mentioned?” “Uh-huh. Attila’s field is at the bottom of the hill beside the house, and the little barn you can see is where we feed the rabbits and stable the ponies. But let’s save the grand tour until after you unpack and change. And then maybe you’d like a drink. There’s some Scotch that Gus used to say was smooth as silk.” Glancing at his watch, Nick discovered it was only four-thirty. He’d been up for so long it seemed later. “It’s a little early for something as strong as Scotch,” he said, “but a cold beer would go down fine.” They’d just started for the porch when a tremendous roar rattled his eardrums. He stopped dead, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Carly and the dogs continued along as if they were deaf. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, hurrying to catch up. “What was what?” “That noise.” “Oh, it was just Attila welcoming us home. He must have smelled us.” “From this distance?” Carly gave him another amused look. “Bears have an incredible sense of smell. They can scent things for miles. But he won’t mind if we don’t say hello until later.” Nick looked in the direction of the hill, half surprised to see the ground wasn’t vibrating. The last time he’d heard anything that loud he’d been in Costa Rica, watching the Arenal Volcano spew fire and boulders—and that had made him a little nervous, too. Following Carly the rest of the way to the house, he did his best to relax. After all, she’d told him she was perfectly fine with the bear, so there was no reason she’d need any help with it He just wished he didn’t have the sense there was something she hadn’t told him. CARLY CHANGED INTO SHORTS, then went back downstairs and chatted with Crackers while she made a jug of iced tea. The parrot loved company and was papertrained. So, years ago, Gus had built a big solariumtype addition to the kitchen, and Crackers was pretty good about staying in it. “Treat!” he demanded as she stirred the tea. She cut him a wedge of apple, then poured herself a glass of tea and put the jug into the fridge, lingering in front of the open door and thinking how heavenly the coolness felt The house was too old to have central air, and Gus hadn’t liked air-conditioning anyway. He’d always said that even window units were for wimps, so she’d learned to live with the hot, muggy spell that inevitably settled in during July. But she’d far rather live without it. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she dug a beer from the back of the fridge and reluctantly closed the door. When she turned, Nick was standing in the kitchen eyeing Crackers. “Is he usually out of his cage?” he asked. “Uh-huh. He really hates being in it during the day. But he stays in it at night. I think he worries that one of the cats might try a sneak attack while he’s asleep.” “Would they?” “I doubt it. And if they did, they’d regret it. Big macaws have incredibly strong beaks. He could amputate a man’s hand. But he wouldn’t,” she added quickly. “He loves people.” Nick nodded, although he didn’t look entirely convinced. Then he glanced at the beer she’d forgotten she was holding. “That looks good.” “And you look like a cowboy,” she said, handing him the bottle. “You also look even more like Gus. He always wore jeans and boots.” “Must be one of those things that run in families." Nick twisted the top off his beer and took a long, slow drink. Watching him, Carly felt an unexpected twinge of attraction. Oh, she’d realized earlier what a good-looking man he was. But it had been an in-the-abstract kind of awareness, because he hadn’t struck her as her type. Not that she exactly had a type. As she’d told him earlier, living out here meant her social life had never been exactly hectic. And there’d been nothing about any of the few men she had gone with over the years that had made her think they were Mr. Right. When Nick lowered the bottle, she reached for her glass of tea and said, “Let’s sit outside. Maybe there’ll be a breeze.” She gestured him to precede her, letting her thoughts drift back to where they’d been. Whatever her type was, Nick Montgomery wasn’t it. His hair was far too short for her taste, and in his suit he’d seemed too…civilized was the word that came to mind. Although now, she had to admit, with those hiphugging jeans and his T-shirt clinging to every muscle, that wasn’t true anymore. But Nick was her temporary business partner, and she’d be a fool to even think of him in any other light He’d only be here for six weeks, tops, then he’d be heading back out West Or maybe he’d be gone a lot sooner. For all she knew, he might be out of here ten minutes after she told him about the problem with Attila. She followed him outside and they sat on the porch in silence for a minute—until one of the cats stalked by to check out the company. “His name’s Blue, and he’s been in quite a few commercials,” she offered. “That’s mostly what Wild Action has done until now. Commercials, some work for television, the occasional documentary and one Canadian feature film that opened and closed the same week. I don’t think they even bothered making it into a video.” “So Two for Trouble really is your…our big chance.” She nodded, aware that this was the perfect time to speak up—while he was contemplating how important the movie was to them. All she had to do was think of the right words. When Carly lapsed into silence, Nick sat casually looking in her direction and not letting himself stare at her long, tanned legs. It was tough not to, though. They were such great legs they’d stop traffic if she ever walked down a city street in those shorts. And as for that little sleeveless blouse… Earlier, she’d looked the picture of innocence. And she even smelled innocent—like prairie wildflowers. But in that outfit she looked sexy as hell. And it had him imagining all sorts of things that had nothing even remotely to do with their business partnership. Shifting his gaze from her, he told himself he’d have to be careful while he was here. She had an easy manner he found appealing. And when you added that to the way she looked…Well, he’d just better watch himself. He’d had his share of relationships with women, but none of them had ever felt as if they might last forever. And he sure didn’t want to find himself in one that did feel right when the time and place were entirely wrong. His life plans didn’t include either animal actors or rural Ontario. All he wanted was enough money to go back home to Edmonton and set up his agency. “Nick?” When he glanced at Carly again there was a tiny drop of perspiration on her throat, trickling ever so slowly toward the V of her neckline. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep from following it with his eyes. Finally, it disappeared beneath her blouse, but by then he was following it with his imagination. “Nick, there’s something we have to talk about.” He looked up quickly, feeling like the proverbial kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “We have a bit of a problem with Attila.” Aha! His imagination instantly shut down and he switched into cop alert. He’d known there was something she’d been holding back about that bear, and her expression told him it was more than a bit of a problem. “Did I mention that he’s the star of Two for Trouble? The animal star, I mean?” “No, I think you just said he was in it.” “Oh. Well, he is. The star, I mean.” Nick waited for her to go on, doing his best to hide his annoyance. But he’d bet that she’d been intentionally avoiding talking about the bear—that she’d been waiting until she got her newfound partner out here, away from civilization, before she hit him with whatever this problem was. “You see,” she finally continued, “the boys’ encounter with Attila is a really pivotal scene in the movie. And there’ll be a lot of earlier shots of him— foreshadowing the encounter.” “I see. And the problem is…?” he asked, bringing her back to the important issue. “Well, Attila hasn’t been himself lately. I know he misses Gus, but from our point of view…The problem is that he’s taken to only doing what I tell him when he feels like it.” “Because he’s in mourning? That’s bear behavior?” “Well, I’m sure missing Gus is at least part of it.” Nick uneasily thought back to something she’d told him in Brown’s office—that if Jay Wall wasn’t pleased with their animals, the agency’s name would be mud. “If missing Gus is only part of the problem,” he said, picking up on her last words, “what’s the other part?” “Well, Attila always worked better for Gus than he did for me. So I suspect he considers me just a backup trainer. And now he’s acting like a child who’s trying to see just how much he can get away with.” “But if he worked better for Gus, then the two of you must have done things differently. Why don’t you try doing everything exactly the way he did?” “I already do. We always used the same tone and commands and hand signals. You have to with animals or they get confused. So there’s got to be some thing else involved. Maybe something as simple as the fact that Gus was a lot bigger than me.” Nick eyed her, doubting she’d weigh a hundred and fifteen pounds sopping wet. “Or maybe it’s that bears find a deeper male voice more authoritative.” “That’s a fact?” “No, it’s just a possibility. Nick, the only real facts I have are that Attila responded better to Gus and that right now I can’t count on him to listen. So I can’t help thinking…” Carly paused, then the rest of her words came rushing out all at once. “It would make a lot of sense to try another man working with Attila. Ideally, one who resembles Gus. And if you wore some of Gus’s clothes, his scent would even be mingled with yours.” Nick simply stared at her, the words you and yours flashing like neon signs in front of his eyes. She gave him a weak smile. “Oh, no,” he said at last. “Absolutely, unequivocably no. You are the one who bottle-raised that bear. You are the one who figures he’s a pet. You are the animal expert here. “I, on the other hand, don’t know a damn thing about bears except that they can kill people. Plus, I’m a complete stranger to him—one he outweighs by more than four hundred pounds. I’d have to be out of my tree to try working with him.” Carly gazed at her sandals for a long minute, then finally shrugged. “I didn’t really think you’d like the idea.” Nick resisted the urge to tell her she was the queen of understatement. “I just…” She shrugged again, looking at him this time. “I guess it was a dumb suggestion, even though he really wouldn’t hurt you. We’ve done all kinds of shoots with him, and he’s never tried to harm anyone. And I’m so worried that if I can’t make him cooperate for Jay, and the agency ends up going down the tubes because of it…Well, I’m worried about what would happen to the animals if I couldn’t keep things going. Especially to Attila. It would be incredibly hard to find him a good home.” Nick shoved himself out of his chair and began pacing the porch, thinking he was insane to even consider her idea. But if Attila didn’t perform, Jay Wall would bad-mouth them. And if that led to the agency going bust, there’d be no income to pay the mortgage—which would mean they’d lose the property, as well. Still, he’d rather face a man pointing a .350 Magnum at him than get within mauling range of a bear. “Why don’t we give Attila a little more time,” he finally suggested. “Maybe he’ll come around.” “Or maybe he won’t.” Turning away from Carly, Nick stared out across the clearing. He had no job and not much money. And if they blew this chance to establish a Hollywood connection, he’d probably have no inheritance to speak of, either. But at least he’d still be alive, rather than—quite possibly—bear breakfast. That was certainly an important point to consider. He weighed the issue for another minute, then took a deep breath and said, “You’re positive he’s never tried to harm anyone?” “PUT THE HAT ON, TOO,” Carly said. “Gus always wore his hat.” Nick took the cowboy hat off its peg and slapped it on his head, even though he knew damn well Attila wasn’t going to think he was Gus. Not for a second. Clothes don’t make the man, the saying went. And the fact he had on a pair of Gus’s jeans and one of his shirts wasn’t going to fool a bear any more than it would a person. “Good,” Carly said, eyeing him approvingly. “If you look and smell like Gus, it’s bound to help.” That, Nick knew, was not a fact. It was merely another of her possibilities, and he didn’t like them any more than he liked her. Maybe she’d initially seemed to be a nice woman, but first impressions could be wrong. And in this case there was no ‘could’ about it. That easy manner he’d liked had been hiding her true self—a manipulative woman who’d maneuvered him into doing this. And he hated being either manipulated or maneuvered. The problem was, he suspected he’d hate a life of poverty even more. “Ready?” she said with a bright smile. “Dying to meet him,” he muttered, hoping the remark wouldn’t prove prophetic. “But if he hurts me, I’ll be voting to turn him into a bearskin rug.” “He won’t hurt you,” Carly said for the millionth time. Picking up the pail full of raw, boned chicken, which she’d told him was the bear’s favorite treat, Nick followed her out the back door. As they walked down the hill toward Attila’s field, he tried to convince himself it was only the heat that had him sweating buckets. Every instinct for self-preservation was telling him to turn around and run, and the farther they walked, the harder it became to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Raising his forearm to his nose, he sniffed the sleeve of Gus’s shirt. He didn’t smell a damn thing, but Attila would. Carly had said bears had an incredible sense of smell. So Attila would smell Gus’s scent, but he’d know Nick wasn’t Gus. And he’d think… What if he thought this guy who smelled like Gus was trying to put something over on him? And what if it made him mad as hell? Nick wanted to ask Carly about that, but his heart was suddenly in his throat, making it impossible to speak. He could see the bear now. It had spotted them and was ambling in the direction of the fence. “Hey, Attila,” Carly called. The bear plonked down on his haunches about ten feet away from the gate. The next thing Nick knew, he and Carly had reached the fence. He tried not to look at Attila while she sorted through the keys on her ring. Instead, he gazed at the pond, then eyed the hibernation cave. But despite his best efforts, his gaze was drawn back to the bear, and all he could think about was how damn big it was. “Poor baby looks a little unkempt because he’s molting,” Carly said, sticking a key into the padlock. Nick nodded, but he was far less interested in the condition of the bear’s fur than he was in the fact that its thick claws looked about a foot long. And its teeth were undoubtedly even bigger and sharper. The only small things about Attila were his rounded ears and beady little eyes. “He’s not exactly Winnie the Pooh,” he whispered nervously as Carly opened the gate. “He’s going to love you,” she whispered back. “Just follow me inside and put the pail down for the time being. He knows he doesn’t get the chicken until after he’s been good. “Hi, Attila,” she added to the bear as Nick set the pail beside the fence. “I’ve brought someone to meet you.” Attila grunted, then fixed Nick with a glare that didn’t look even remotely loving. Not that he really wanted the bear’s love. He’d be happy if it just didn’t eat him. After all, Carly had admitted she couldn’t really count on Attila to listen to her at the moment. “Now, I know you’re probably feeling a little uneasy,” she said, glancing at Nick and slipping into her queen-of-understatement routine again. “But just try to remember everything I told you. Especially that you should never excite his predatory instinct by running.” With that, she slowly walked over to the bear and scratched him behind the ear. “You still okay?” she asked, looking at Nick once more. “Sure,” he said. In truth, of course, he was as far from okay as he could ever remember being. He couldn’t keep his eyes off those claws, and he couldn’t stop thinking a scratch from them would make one of Blackie’s feel like a pinprick. Carly rubbed the bear’s nose for a minute, then said, “Attila, that’s Nick over there. I want you to go and say hello to him. Two feet.” The bear glared over again. Then he pushed himself up onto his hind feet—sending a rush of utter terror through Nick. Standing up, he looked like an enormous sumo wrestler in a fur coat. “Good boy,” Carly said. “Now go say hello.” Attila gave a little snort and started toward Nick, stopping a couple of feet away. Nick stood stock-still, even though the urge to run was almost overwhelming. In his cowboy boots, he was well over six feet tall, but the bear’s eyes were level with his. And it was so close he could smell its earthy scent and hear it breathing. “Nick?” Carly whispered. “Say hello to him.” He swallowed hard. “Hello, Attila.” The bear eyed him for another second, then took a final step forward, wrapped its arms around him and began squeezing him to death. CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_7460706b-8511-5b78-ba6d-4c13888c2536) Boys Will Be Boys “CARLY, I can’t breathe!” She was so thrilled to see that Attila liked Nick, his words didn’t register for a second. Then she realized Attila was getting carried away with his bear hug. “Attila, enough,” she said. When he didn’t stop, she felt a flutter of concern. An enthusiastic bear was hardly the same as an enthusiastic puppy. “You tell him, Nick,” she quickly suggested. “Enough is the command, and be firm.” “Enough,” he said, sounding more strangled than firm. Miraculously, Attila grunted and backed off. Dropping to all fours, he began snuffling the leg of Nick’s jeans. Carly almost jumped for joy. If Attila was going to listen to Nick, things just might work out. “He obeyed you!” she said excitedly. “Obeyed me? He practically killed me!” “No he didn’t. He was being friendly.” And she was so relieved. She hadn’t told Nick about the phone call, because she hadn’t wanted him feeling even more stressed when he met Attila, but now she could. Before she had a chance, though, he took a backward step and said, “Listen, if that’s his way of being friendly, I sure as hell don’t want to be near him when he’s being grouchy. This isn’t going to work, Carly. We’ve got to figure out some way of making him listen to you better.” “Give him his chicken.” “What?” She pointed at the pail. “Give him his chicken or he will be grouchy.” Nick grabbed the pail, then turned back toward her. “I just put it down in front of him?” “You could. But if you feed him by hand, it’ll help the two of you bond.” “Bond? Did you go deaf in the past minute? I said this isn’t going to work. I’m not…comfortable close to this animal. You’re going to have to handle him.” “Nick, do you want Jay Wall to be happy with us or not?” “Of course I do. I just don’t want to work with a bear.” “Well, it could take months to figure out how to get him to listen to me better. And the chemistry’s obviously right between you two.” “No. It was right between him and Gus. I’m wearing Gus’s clothes, remember, so it’s his scent on them—his chemistry. And what happens after they get washed?” “Well, maybe there are enough of his things to last through the filming.” “Not a chance. His closet’s practically empty. And after I wear something once or twice, there’ll be more of my scent on it than Gus’s. How will Attila take to that?” Carly told herself he’d be okay with it, but she knew it might be a problem. “Maybe the scent’s not really important,” she said hopefully. “Maybe it’s your deep voice Attila responded to. I mean, he did what you told him even though you didn’t sound very authoritative.” “What do you mean I didn’t sound authoritative? I’ve been trained to sound authoritative. And the bear listened, didn’t he?” “My point exactly.” Attila woofed; Nick’s gaze flashed to him. “He wants his chicken.” As Nick looked down at the pail, then back at her, Carly prayed he wouldn’t simply turn and walk away. But she could hardly blame him if he did. Wild Action might mean everything to her, but it meant little to him. And even though she was certain Attila wouldn’t harm him, he obviously wasn’t. “Nick,” she said at last, “I know how much I’m asking of you, but if you’ll try working with him I’ll be right there every minute. And…Look, I hate to put even more pressure on you, but Jay called while you were changing into Gus’s clothes. The cast and crew will be arriving before lunchtime tomorrow. And the way things stand, your working with Attila is the only hope we’ve got.” NICK HAD WASHED HIS hands half a dozen times, but he could still smell the raw chicken on them. He could also still feel Attila’s smooth warm tongue licking them. But hell, while he’d been feeding the bear he hadn’t been sure how much longer he’d have hands, so maybe he should count his blessings. Of course, tomorrow he’d be right back in the lion’s den—or the bear’s field, as the case might be— even though he was probably insane to be going along with Carly’s plan. He looked across the kitchen to where she was stirring the spaghetti sauce, wondering exactly how she’d convinced him to do something he seriously didn’t want to do. Then he recalled how her smile had lit up her entire face when he’d agreed to try working with the bear. It was, he’d discovered, a very dangerous smile, because it made him feel strangely warm inside. Which, in turn, made him tend to forget all about her negative qualities. Obviously he was going to have to be even more careful around her than he’d realized. “That salad almost ready?” she asked, glancing over. “Uh-huh.” “Almost ready?” Crackers repeated from his perch in the solarium. “Yeah, almost ready,” Nick told him, thinking the house was very full of animals. He’d probably hardly notice the three cats if they were the extent of the menagerie, but he’d be a while getting used to those huge Marx brothers flopped all over the floor. And to a big blue bird that talked. Especially when Carly’d said it could amputate a man’s hand. Every time he looked at Crackers, he found himself wondering if he should find a pair of heavy work gloves to wear while he was here. Between that beak and Attila’s teeth… “There’s something I’ve been forgetting to ask you,” Carly said. He looked over at her again. “You don’t have any orange clothes, do you?” “No, why?” “Oh, I just wanted to check. Fruit and vegetables are okay, but for some reason anything else orange makes Crackers a little nutsy.” When she didn’t elaborate, Nick decided he didn’t want to know what a macaw did when it got nutsy. So, instead of asking, he began mentally running through the list of Attila’s commands and hand signals once more—feeling as if he were cramming for finals. In the past couple of hours, he’d learned enough about bears to fill an encyclopedia on them. The entire time he’d trooped along with Carly, helping her tend to the outdoor animals, she’d told him about bears’ behavior in general and Attila’s behavior in particular. Then, while they fed the dogs and cats, she’d drilled him on the commands Attila responded to. Or maybe was supposed to respond to would be a better way of putting it. He was still far from convinced the bear was going to obey him. And if he inadvertently did something that made Attila angry… Forcing that thought from his mind, he glanced at his watch—and then at the phone on the counter beside him. Before he’d left Edmonton, he’d told his ex-partner that he’d be home in a few days. But now that he wouldn’t be back for weeks, now that he was going to need Ben’s help getting his things moved out of his house, he wanted to let him know as soon as possible. He looked over at Carly once again, thinking how Ben always yelled into a phone, then thinking about the extension he’d noticed when he’d glanced into her bedroom. But he’d feel funny asking if he could go use it. And since he never seemed to be in the kitchen when she wasn’t, he might just as well phone Ben right here and now. No matter how loudly he talked, Carly was hardly going to hear him from the other side of the room. “Carly? Would you mind if I made a long-distance call?” She smiled. “You don’t have to ask. It’s half your phone.” He reached for it, dialed and got Ben’s wife, Ida. “Nick!” she greeted him. “You’re back already?” “No, I’m calling from down East.” “Oh, well, it’s good to hear your voice. But you could have knocked me over with a feather when Ben told me you’d quit. I mean him putting in for early retirement is one thing, but you just walking away at your age…” “Yeah, I guess it surprised a lot of people.” He glanced uneasily at Carly, but she didn’t seem curious about what had surprised people. “That must have been some terrific inheritance you got” “Well, I’ll tell you all the details once I’m home. But right now I’m using someone else’s phone, so is Ben around?” “No, he had to go down to Lethbridge for a bit. Something came up there about a case he worked on years ago. Want me to give him a message?” “Yeah. Please. I’m going to be stuck here for a lot longer than I figured. And I don’t know if he mentioned I’ve got to move at the end of the month, but—” “He sure did. That sort of thing should be against the law, you know. Those landlords get away with murder.” “Maybe. At any rate, I need a huge favor. If he could get some of the guys to help move my stuff out and put it into temporary storage…” There was a silence at the other end, which probably meant Ida was wondering why he didn’t spend some of his terrific inheritance on hiring a moving company. But all she finally said, was, “Sure. I know he’d be glad to help out.” “Great. My next-door neighbor has a spare key. I’ll call and tell her what’s happening.” “Okay. And give me the number where you’re staying in case Ben needs to ask you about anything.” “Sure.” After he’d given it to her she said, “Now don’t, you go blowing your entire fortune on those fast eastern women, eh?” “No, I won’t. And thanks, Ida.” As he hung up, Carly said, “I couldn’t help overhearing.” “That’s okay. It was my partner’s wife I was talking to.” Ex-partner’s, an internal voice of truth corrected him. But the phrase had slipped out easily. He hadn’t really started thinking of Ben in those terms yet “But you have to move?” Carly said. “Uh-huh.” “And you said temporary storage. So you don’t have a place to move to?” “No. I was looking for another house, but I hadn’t found one yet.” “And despite all that you stayed here?” He merely shrugged, then changed the subject by saying he had to call his next-door neighbor to let her know what was going on. He quickly dialed Hilda’s number, thinking that the last thing he wanted was to get into a discussion with Carly about why he’d stayed Normally, he was a pretty honest man, and at the moment his conscience was telling him to straighten her out about his newly unemployed status. But she’d think he was an idiot for quitting his job so rashly. And since he’d be out of her life again in only a few weeks, there was no real reason she had to know. Besides, telling her at this late date would be a little tricky. She’d been sitting right there when he’d phoned and supposedly arranged for time off. When Hilda answered, he explained that he was going to be away for longer than he’d expected and that Ben would be looking after moving his things. “Well, don’t you worry about your mail,” she said. “I’ll keep taking it in. But what if there’s anything important looking? Or letters? If there are, I should forward them, shouldn’t I?” “That would be great,” he told her, although he doubted there’d be anything except junk mail and bills. He gave her the address just in case. Then he hung up, tossed the salad and carried it over to the table. Carly dropped a handful of spaghetti into the boiling water, then came and sat down across the table from him. “I want to say something,” she told him after a moment “Say away.” “I want to tell you how much I appreciate your helping out. Aside from anything else, I know this has to be vacation time you’ve given up to stay here. And the fact that you’re willing to inconvenience your friends to help me…” He smiled uneasily. There was gratitude written all over her face, and his conscience started in on him again. He really should tell her he wasn’t quite as terrific as she figured, that he was motivated by a lot more than a desire to help her. But before he could make himself say anything, she went on. “And I can imagine how nervous you must be about working with Attila.” “I’m sure that’ll fade.” Unless, of course, the bear did something to make him even more nervous. Or to make him dead. “I’m sure it will, too.” Carly gave him one of her terrific smiles. “At any rate, I just wanted you to know I really appreciate what you’re doing—especially when keeping Wild Action afloat can’t mean anywhere near as much to you as it does to me.” He managed another smile of his own, but keeping the agency afloat meant a whole lot more to him than she realized. It would keep him out of the poorhouse. WHEN HE’D PHONED YESTERDAY, Jay Wall had told Carly he’d be arriving with the cast and crew well before noon. By eleven-thirty, sitting on the porch and still waiting for them to appear, she was a nervous wreck. She glanced over at Nick, who was reading her copy of the Two for Trouble script, and reminded herself that his morning session with Attila had gone fairly well. But that was no guarantee things would go smoothly during the shooting. And if they didn’t, Jay would want her head on a platter. She’d never met the man, but Gus had. He’d spent a week in L.A., working out the details of the contract with Jay and the producer. And he’d come home referring to the wunderkind director as “that obnoxious young snot.” According to Gus, Jay was charming one minute, explosive and demanding the next, and drove everyone he worked with crazy. He was also, she knew from the phone conversations she’d had with him, extremely annoyed that Gus had had the audacity to die before Two for Trouble was in the can. And he was not pleased that he’d be stuck working with the “understudy,” as he’d called her yesterday. Sight unseen, he’d decided she was second rate. “You’re certain,” he’d demanded, “the bear’s performance will be up to scratch if you’re working with him?” Naturally, she’d assured him it would be, but she suspected he’d have tried to back out of their contract if he’d been able to line up another trained bear on short notice. “What’s with this scene where Attila chases the boys?” Nick asked. “Oh, that’s the pivotal one I mentioned yesterday.” “No, I mean what’s with him chasing them? You told me people should never run away from bears. You said it excites their predatory instincts.” “Well, the boys won’t really be running away from Attila. I know the notes call it the scene where he chases them, but Jay will do separate takes of them running and Attila running. Then they’ll edit the sequences so it looks as if he’s chasing them.” “Ahh.” When Nick went back to his reading, she sat watching him, still not quite able to believe that he was actually helping her. Of course she realized it was to his benefit, as well as hers, if things worked out with Jay. But most men would never have stayed when they’d been in the midst of looking for a place to live. Even fewer would have agreed to work with a bear, no matter how much it might prove to be worth to them financially. Especially when they already had a good job. Which added up to the fact that she felt very, very grateful. And despite her resolve to keep their relationship strictly business, she was aware of feeling more than simple gratitude. As hard as she’d tried to fall asleep last night, she’d lain awake for a long time, extremely conscious that Nick was in the bedroom right across the hall—and that both their doors were open to allow what little breeze there was through the house. Then, at breakfast this morning, before he’d shaved, it had been impossible to ignore how sexy he looked. Just as she was ordering herself to think about anything other than him, he tossed down the script and glanced over at her. “Here they come.” Trying to quell a fresh surge of anxiety, she rose and looked across the clearing. Sure enough, there they were, just rounding the curve in the road. Three black stretch limos led the way, followed by a convoy of trucks, trailers and RVs that would be home to the cast and crew while they were on location here. The noise sent the rabbits scurrying under the safety of the porch, and in the house the Marx brothers began barking. They hated being shut inside, but she couldn’t chance letting them out until everyone was safely parked. All in all, there was such a commotion that she half expected to see Rocky Raccoon peering down from the porch roof—even though it took a lot to rouse a coon from his day’s sleep. “Looks like an invasion,” Nick said. She glanced at him and forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous she was. It would do nothing for his self-confidence. The trucks began turning off into the field where she’d told Jay to set up camp, while the limos pulled up in front of the house. The third one had barely stopped before the back door flew open and two boys leapt out “I guess those would be our ten-year-olds,” she murmured as they headed for the porch. “Hi, I’m Kyle,” the blond one said, grinning at her. “And this is Brock,” he added, pointing at the dark-haired one. Brock produced a grin of his own. “Well, hi. This is Nick and I’m Carly.” She glanced at the two frazzled women who’d hurried after the boys—their mothers were on location with them, she knew. “They’ve been sitting in the limo too long,” one of the women said. “Would you mind if they looked around a little? Burned off some of their energy?” “We’ll keep an eye on them,” the other woman promised. “Sure. Go ahead. Just don’t let them stick their fingers into the aviary.” By the time Carly turned her attention back to the limos, the drivers of the remaining two had opened the back doors. A couple of men were getting out of the first one, while Sarina Westlake and Garth Richards emerged from the second. Carly focused on Jay Wall, whom she recognized from Gus’s description. Of average height and weight, he had long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, a scraggly beard and wire-rimmed glasses. His clothes said he wasn’t a man who dressed to impress—tattered jeans, a T-shirt with Two for Trouble printed across it and a bright orange baseball cap pulled on backward. Luckily Crackers couldn’t see him from the solarium, but she made a mental note to mention the bird’s little color quirk the first chance she got Some of the cast and crew were bound to end up in the house, so they’d all have to be warned. Glancing at Nick, she whispered, “The one in his early thirties is Jay. And I think the midfifties one must be the producer, Brian Goodfellow.” “You’re sure he’s not the director?” Nick whispered back. “He’s got that pear-shaped Alfred Hitchcock look.” “Well, despite that, he has to be the producer. Get Real Productions is his company.” “Carly, darling,” Jay said, heading for the porch as the limos started back down the drive. “Finally, we meet in person.” Reaching her, he took both her hands in his and stood beaming at her so warmly that, if she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was positively dying to work with her. For a director, he made a great actor. “This is Brian Goodfellow,” he added, releasing her as the short, rotund man joined them on the porch. “Goodie,” he said, nodding to Carly. “Everyone just calls me Goodie.” “And our stars…” Jay paused and made a sweeping gesture toward them. Sarina and Garth nodded from the drive, then went back to whatever they’d been talking about. “And this,” Carly said, “is Nick Montgomery, my new partner in Wild Action.” “Oh?” Jay extended his hand to Nick, his expression saying he didn’t like surprises. “Nick will be doing most of the work with Attila,” she added. “Oh?” Jay said again. “Do you have a lot of experience with bears, Nick?” “Actually, most of my experience has been with cats.” “Big cats, he means,” Carly said quickly, shooting Nick a look that said this was no time for humor. “Lions, tigers and panthers mostly, right?” He grinned at her. “Right. But Attila and I are good buddies,” he added to Jay. Before there was time for anyone to say another word, a child yelled, “Jay? Look what we’ve got!” Carly turned, then froze in horror. The two boys had come around the side of the house—Kyle with Crackers on his shoulder. “We went in the back to get some water,” he said excitedly. “And all I did was say hi to him, and he hopped right on me.” Behind the boys, their mothers appeared, both wearing “Aren’t they cute” expressions. A split second later, Crackers noticed the orange baseball cap. He shrieked. Carly dove at Jay. “Shee-it!” he said, ducking to avoid her hand. She still managed to grab the cap—but only an instant before Crackers swooped through the air and snatched it from her. Landing on the porch railing, he sat bobbing his head up and down, the cap’s bill securely in his beak. “Awesome!” Brock said. “Can you make him do it again?” “Sure,” Nick told him. “Want to see him do it again, Jay?” The director glared at him. “I hope you’re a better bear trainer than you are a comedian.” Smoothing his hair, he looked at the mothers and snapped, “Keep those kids away from the animals, understand?” When they nodded in unison, Jay turned his glare on Carly. “I’m so s-sorry,” she stammered. “It’s the color orange. It sometimes makes him freak out.” When Jay glanced over at Crackers as if he’d like to wring his little feathered neck, Goodie said, “You’re lucky he didn’t sink those claws into your head. If he had, I’d be starting to believe this movie really is jinxed. But come on, let’s go make sure all the equipment made the trip safely.” Jay nodded, then looked at Carly again. “Goodie and I will be back after we’ve had lunch. I’d like you to show us the bear then. And you think you can keep that parrot in a cage for the duration?” “Well, the bird likes his freedom,” Nick said. “So we’re not going to coop him up in a cage for a month or more. But all you need to do is tell everyone not to wear orange.” “Or maybe we could see if the chef has a recipe for parrot cacciatore,” Jay muttered. IT TOOK AT LEAST fifteen minutes for Carly to get Crackers back into the solarium—by which point the baseball cap was in shreds. Nick had hovered nearby while she’d coaxed and cajoled, but he wasn’t nearly as much help with the bird as he was with Attila. She probably shouldn’t have told him Crackers could amputate a man’s hand. Just as Crackers finally flew onto his perch, the phone began to ring. “Don’t you move,” Carly said sternly, pointing her finger at him before she reached for the phone. “Hi, darling,” her mother’s voice greeted her. “Oh, hi, Mom, What’s up?” “Nothing much. I just wondered if you’d heard exactly when your movie people are arriving.” “Actually, they got here about half an hour ago.” “Oh, good. And is everything going well so far?” “Everything’s just fine.” Except for the fact that Attila might not perform for the camera and an unnervingly attractive man was living in her house. Not to mention having an entire horde of people setting up camp in her field and a parrot who’d come close to scalping the man who could make or break Wild Action. “Well, I won’t keep you, dear. But we were curious about what happened when you met with the lawyers. How did that nephew of Gus’s take to learning that he’d left half the estate to you?” “Ahh, he took it pretty well.” She glanced over and saw that Nick was still hovering. “Actually, he’s going to be staying here while they’re shooting. He’s helping out with Attila.” “Really” her mother said, packing about thirteen questions into one word. Carly had no desire to answer even one of them with Nick standing there listening, so she said, “Mom, things are pretty hectic and I’ve got to run. But I’ll call you in a few days—let you know when you should drive down.” “All right, dear. We’re really looking forward to it. Your father won’t admit it, but he’s been a little bored since he retired, and he’s really interested in seeing a movie being shot. And Lisa’s just dying to meet Garth Richards.” “I’ll call as soon as I know what’s what. ‘Bye for now. “My mother,” she told Nick as she hung up. “My parents and sister want to come down for a few days and see how movies are made.” “Your sister lives with them?” “No, she’s a year older than me and married. But she’s a big Garth Richards fan. And she’s a teacher, so she’s free during the summer.” Wondering what her family was going to think when they got a look at the man who was sharing the house with her, she turned her attention back to Crackers and told him to get into his cage. Instead, he tucked his head under his wing, trying to make himself invisible. “I thought he hated being in there during the day,” Nick said. Carly shot him a warning glance. She was hardly happy about the way he’d been such a smart ass with Jay; she just hadn’t had a chance to discuss it with him yet. And at the moment, she could certainly do without his taking the bird’s side. “He’s got to learn he can’t behave like that,” she said. “And when Jay gets back here, I want him to see we’re being cooperative. Crackers, move it,” she added. His head bowed, he shuffled along his perch and kicked a bar of the cage with one foot. “In,” she said firmly. “You can come back out at dinnertime if you promise to be. good.” He gave the cage another kick, graced her with a bird’s version of a dirty look, then eased inside. “And the next time you get another birdbrained idea, remember this is what happens.” -She carefully latched the door, then turned to Nick. “As for you, were you deliberately trying to annoy Jay?” “What? All I said was we weren’t going to keep Crackers in his cage for an entire month.” “That’s not what I was referring to. I meant your line about most of your experience being with cats. If you’d told him you meant the neighbor’s pussycat, I’d have killed you. And when you asked if he’d like to see Crackers come swooping down at him again… What on earth were you thinking of?” “Well, the guy’s a schmuck and I—” “That is entirely beside the point. The point is we want him to think Wild Action is terrific, remember? So when he goes back to L.A. he’ll give his friends rave reviews about us.” “A guy like that can’t have any friends. And stop talking to me as if I were twelve years old. You may own fifty-one percent of this operation, but don’t try laying down rules about what I can and can’t say to people.” “That’s not what I was doing. I was merely offering a little constructive criticism—which you obviously can’t take. Dammit, Nick, you’re exactly like Gus.” “Oh? Now why does that sound like an insult? Yesterday, you told me Gus was the sweetest man in the world.” “Except when he was too stubborn to listen! Then he’d put a mule to shame.” Nick turned on his heel and started across the kitchen. “Where are you going?” Carly demanded as he opened the back door. “I’ve got a few mules to put to shame.” “We don’t have any mules.” “Then I’ll make do with the ponies.” Punctuating his exit line by letting the screen slam shut behind him, Nick headed around the side of the house—not wanting to admit to himself that Carly’s criticism hadn’t been completely off base. Put him face-to-face with a jerk like Jay Wall and he just couldn’t resist saying the odd thing he shouldn’t. It was a weakness that had gotten him into more trouble than he cared to think about. Deciding to check out the camp while his temper cooled, he wandered down the drive to the field and surveyed the scene. There were four generator trucks the size of large moving vans, as well as about fifteen equipment trucks and at least as many trailers and RVs. One of the outside trailers had a sign indicating it was the kitchen, and half a dozen tables with chairs had already been set up at one end. The site was buzzing with people, all of whom looked busy, so he just walked around the perimeter of the ragged rows, sizing things up and trying to get his mind off Carly. But she was just too annoying to stop thinking about. He really didn’t like the way she’d talked to him like a damn drill sergeant, and he’d have had a lot more to say to her if her little lecture hadn’t taken him by surprise. But now he was adding “control freak” to his list of her negative traits. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/dawn-stewardson/wild-action/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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