He didn’t, as she’d hoped, follow her orders. Instead, he glanced down at the little puppy, his brow growing heavier the longer he stood there. It was the same glower that had made him seem so fierce when he’d first walked in.

It didn’t seem nearly as intimidating when he shook his head and said, “No, thank you.”

She laughed again, unable to stop it from fully releasing this time. All of her tension seemed to be seeping out the more she realized this man was nowhere near as hard as his gruff expression indicated. All bark and no bite. “Well, at least you’re being more polite about it. I promise she won’t bite, and she won’t pee all over you. She’s a very good girl. Aren’t you, Bubbles? Aren’t you the most precious little ball o’ fluff?”

Harrison took a wide step back from the pen and clasped his hands behind his back. If Sophie didn’t know better, she’d think he was afraid of touching the puppy for fear she would infect him with her adorableness.

“No way. I’m not calling her that.”

“What? Bubbles?” Laughter welled up in her throat. He was totally afraid of her adorableness. “Or precious little ball o’ fluff?”

His only answer was a snort. Well, that and another one of those wary looks at the puppy.

“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked. “She’s just a honey-bunny banana muffin.”

“What?”

“The fluffiest lady in fluffy town.”

“Now see here,” he commanded. “You might be able to force this animal on me, but you can’t make me say any of that.”

No, she couldn’t. Sophie couldn’t make anybody do anything. She couldn’t even get rid of those pushy satellite TV salesmen who still tried door-to-door tactics. The last time someone had asked her to switch cable companies, she’d ended up serving him lemonade and buying 230 sports channels that she and her sisters never watched.

None of that seemed to matter to this man. He was a good head taller than her, outweighed her by the size of the Great Dane puppy, and wore a scowl that could have stripped paint from the walls. But as she took a step closer, he only shook his head in a frantic effort to keep her at bay. It made her feel unexpectedly powerful. Unexpectedly good.

“Don’t say any more,” he warned. “I can’t be held responsible for my actions if you do.”

“It’s all right,” she said, feeding off that sense of power, feeling herself coming alive under it. “I can take it.”

And then he smiled—for real this time.