She jogged away and Tess heard muffled conversation in the reception area. Then Nora was back again, a flush of pink in her cheeks.
"It's definitely not UPS in the lobby," she said, keeping her voice low as if she didn't want to be overheard. "It's an absolute god."
Tess laughed. "What?"
"Are you up for a walk-in? Because this amazing-looking guy is waiting out there with a pitiful little dog."
"Is it an emergency?"
Nora shrugged. "I don't think so. No obvious blood or trauma, but the guy is pretty insistent. He asked for you. And did I mention he's drop-dead gorgeous?"
"You did," Tess said, standing up from her desk and coming around to put on her white lab coat. A tingle kicked up below her ear, an odd prickling sensation like the one she'd felt at the museum exhibit and again last night, when she was standing next to Dante at the coffee shop. "Tell him I'll be right out, please."
"No problem." Nora hooked her hair behind her ear, smoothed her low-cut sweater, and trotted off.
It was him. Tess knew it was Dante, even before she heard his voice rumble in the lobby. She found herself smiling into her hand, weathering a wild current of excitement to think that he had sought her out after the embarrassing way she'd left things with him last night in the park.
Oh, God. This jolt of hormones was bad, bad news. She wasn't the type to go all giddy over a man, but Dante did something to her that she'd never felt before.
"Get a grip," she whispered to herself as she headed out of her office and into the hallway that opened onto the lobby area.
Dante stood at the tall reception station, holding a small bundle in his arms. Nora was leaning across the countertop to pet the little dog, cooing adoringly and flashing Dante a nice shot of her cle**age. Tess couldn't blame Nora for flirting. Dante just had that effect on a woman; not even Tess was immune to his dark allure.
His eyes had locked on to her the instant she entered the room, and if Tess wanted to act cool and unaffected, she was probably failing miserably. Her smile wouldn't dim, and her fingers trembled a bit as she brought her hand up to the side of her neck, where the queer tingling seemed to gather the strongest.
"This must be Harvard," she said, glancing to the rather emaciated-looking terrier mix in Dante's arms. "When I said I wanted to meet him, I guess I didn't expect it would be so soon."
Dante frowned. "Is this a bad time?"
"No. No, it's fine. I'm just... surprised, that's all. You keep surprising me."
"You guys know each other?" Nora was gaping at Tess like she wanted to high-five her.
"We, uh... we met a couple of nights ago," Tess stammered. "At the museum reception. Last night we ran into each other again in the North End."
"I was out of line," Dante said, looking at her as if they were the only people in the room. "I didn't mean to upset you last night, Tess."
She waved off his concern, wishing she could forget the whole thing. "It was nothing. I wasn't upset, really. You didn't do anything wrong. I should be the one apologizing to you for running off like I did."
Nora's gaze bounced between the two of them, as if the tension Tess felt from being near Dante was palpable to the other woman as well. "Maybe you two would like to be alone--"
"No," Tess answered abruptly, at the same time that Dante calmly said, "Yes."
Nora hesitated for a second, then turned and gathered her coat and handbag from a hook behind her desk. "I'll just... um, see you in the morning, Tess."
"Yeah, all right. Good luck with your studying."
With her back to Dante, Nora looked at Tess and silently mouthed the words Oh, my God! as she started off for the back exit, where her car was parked. A few seconds later, the low rumble of an engine sounded, then faded away as Nora took off.
Until now, Tess had been so distracted by Dante's presence, she'd hardly noticed the condition of the dog. Now she couldn't help feeling a wash of pity for the animal. Its dull brown eyes were half closed, and a faint but audible respiratory wheeze sawed out of its lungs. On sight alone, Tess could tell that the dog was in need of care.
"Do you mind if I take a look at him?" she asked, glad to have something to focus on aside from Dante and the awareness that seemed to crackle between them. At his nod of agreement, Tess took a stethoscope out of her lab-coat pocket and hooked it around her neck. "When's the last time Harvard had veterinary care?"
Dante gave a vague shrug. "I'm not sure."
Tess gently took the dog from Dante's arms. "Come on. Let's have a closer look in one of the exam rooms."
Dante followed in watchful silence, coming to stand right beside her as Tess placed the trembling animal onto the stainless steel table. She put the scope under the dog's chest and listened to the rapid beat of his heart. There was a pretty significant murmur, and his respiration was definitely off, as she suspected. She felt carefully around his pronounced rib cage and made a note of the lack of elasticity in his flea-ridden fur. "Has Harvard been sleeping a lot lately? Lethargic?"
"I don't know."
Although Tess hardly noticed Dante moving, their arms brushed against each other, his solid, muscled body like a warm, protective wall beside her. And he smelled incredible--something spicy and dark that probably cost a fortune. She drew in a deep breath of him, then bent to inspect the dog's mite-infested ears. "Have you noticed a loss of appetite or a problem keeping food and water down?"
"I couldn't say."
Tess lifted the terrier's lips and checked the color of his diseased gums. "Can you tell me when was Harvard's last vaccination?" "I don't know."