Moe sat up and lifted one massive paw with unaccustomed dignity.

“Wow. That’s a new one.” Flynn blinked as Moe politely allowed Rowena to shake his paw. “Hey, Mal! Did you see—”

As he said her name, Moe’s head swiveled, and he was off at a sprint in Malory’s direction, bringing a distressed yip to her throat as she braced for the onslaught.

Rowena called out, a single indecipherable word in a calm, brisk tone. Moe skidded to a halt inches from Malory’s feet, plopped onto his butt. And once more lifted his paw.

“Well.” Malory expelled a relieved breath. “That’s more like it.” She reached down, obligingly shook the offered paw. “Good for you, Moe.”

“How the hell’d you do that?” Flynn wanted to know.

“I have a way with animals.”

“I’ll say. What was that, Gaelic?”

“Mmmm.”

“Funny that Moe would understand a command in Gaelic when he mostly ignores them in plain English.”

“Dogs understand more than words.” She held out a hand for Flynn’s. “I hope you’ll all come back. We enjoy company.”

“Thanks for your time.” Malory walked to the car with Moe trotting happily beside her. The minute she sat, she tucked her purse on the floor like a guilty secret.

Rowena laughed, but the sound was a bit watery as Moe stuck his head out of the backseat window. She lifted a hand in a wave, then leaned against Pitte as Flynn drove away.

“I have real hope,” she murmured. “I can’t remember the last time I felt real hope. I—it frightens me. It actually frightens me to feel it.”

Pitte wrapped an arm around her, drew her tighter to his side. “Don’t weep, my heart.”

“Foolish.” She dashed a tear away. “To cry over a stranger’s dog. When we get home . . .”

He shifted her, cupped her face in his hands. His tone was gentle, yet somehow urgent. “When we get home, you’ll have a hundred dogs. A thousand.”

“One will do.” She rose on her toes to brush her lips across his.

IN the car Malory let out a long, long breath.

“I take that sound of relief to mean you got the pictures.”

“I did. I felt like an international art thief. I guess I have to give Moe points for being the main distraction. So, tell me what you thought of them.”

“They’re slick, smart, and full of secrets. But they don’t seem crazy. They’re used to money—real money. Used to drinking tea out of antique cups brought in by a servant. They’re educated, cultured, and a little snobby with it. The place is full of stuff—fancy stuff. They’ve only been here a few weeks, so they didn’t furnish those rooms locally. They had it shipped in. I should be able to track that.”

Frowning, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “She went goony on Moe.”

“What?”

“She turned into a puddle the minute she saw him. I mean, he’s got a lot of charm, but she melted. I have this impression of her from inside. Cool, confident, aloof. The kind of woman who’s sexy because she knows she’s in charge. Strolling up Madison Avenue with a Prada bag on her arm, or running a board meeting in L.A. Power, money, brains, and looks all wrapped up in sex.”