“Hold on, and I’ll reach in.” The man tucked his hands into the hedgerow around the dog. “Ah, yes, there. Its foot is stuck in the branches. I can work it free…” He pressed himself against the hedgerow as he worked, allowing Evie a view of his profile. He was white, with pale, narrow brows that drew together over his rich brown eyes as he worked. His strong jaw clenched, pressing his lips together. He was very attractive. And he looked familiar.

Suddenly, the dog vaulted forward, straight into Evie’s chest, sending her off-balance. Because she was on her knees, she fell to the side. She managed, however, to hold the dog close. “I’ve got you,” she murmured.

The dog squirmed, and Evie feared it would run away. “Don’t go,” she pleaded, not yet ready for this unexpected adventure to end.

Was that because of the dog or the gentleman?

The dog! She had no interest in gentlemen, even if they were handsome and vaguely familiar.

“Are you all right?” the man asked.

“Yes, just give us a moment. I think he—or she—is settling down.” Evie kept her gaze locked with the animal’s. “Aren’t you? This isn’t a bad place to be, is it? Certainly better than that nasty old hedgerow.”

“I would say so,” the man responded.

She resisted the urge to look toward him, thinking it was best if she maintained her attention on the dog. Doing so seemed to calm it.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” the man said. “You must have a great deal of experience with dogs. Or animals in general.”

It depended on the type of animal, but she was fairly certain he didn’t mean those of his own species. Those, she knew quite well. “Actually, no. I’ve never had a pet.” Or known anyone with a pet.

“Extraordinary. Well, I’d say you’re naturally inclined. I think you may have a pet now.”

“I can’t have a pet.” She said the words without thinking and immediately hoped the dog didn’t somehow understand and take offense. “But if I did, I would choose you,” she said, smiling at the dog.

The dog tipped its head, then nuzzled her chin. Oh, dear.

“I don’t think the dog agrees that you can’t have a pet.” The man chuckled softly. “Can I help you up?”

She couldn’t lie about in the damp grass. “What do I do with the dog?”

The man edged forward slowly and spoke softly to the dog, whispering encouragement and endearments. It really was quite sweet. Then he stroked the animal and gradually transferred it into his arms. Moving the dog, which did appear to be an older puppy, perhaps, to one arm, he rose, then gave his hand to Evie.

She clasped him, and her gaze immediately riveted to his. He helped her to stand, all while keeping the animal in his grip.