“You did kiss me,” Mikhail reminded Sydney as Brandon began to badger his mother about how little was little. Sydney settled the discussion by ramming her elbow into Mikhail’s ribs.

She found the town charming, with its sloping streets and little shops. Natasha’s toy store, The Fun House, was impressive, its stock running the range from tiny plastic cars to exquisite porcelain dolls and music boxes.

Mikhail proved to be cooperative when Sydney wandered in and out of antique shops, craft stores and boutiques. Somewhere along the line they’d lost the rest of the family. Or the family had lost them. It wasn’t until they’d started back, uphill, with his arms loaded with purchases that he began to complain.

“Why did I think you were a sensible woman?”

“Because I am.”

He muttered one of the few Ukrainian phrases she understood. “If you’re so sensible, why did you buy all this? How do you expect to get it back to New York?”

Pleased with herself, she fiddled with the new earrings she wore. The pretty enameled stars swung jauntily. “You’re so clever, I knew you’d find a way.”

“Now you’re trying to flatter me, and make me stupid.”

She smiled. “You were the one who bought me the porcelain box.”

Trapped, he shook his head. She’d studied the oval box, its top decorated with a woman’s serene face in bas-relief for ten minutes, obviously in love and just as obviously wondering if she should be extravagant. “You were mooning over it.”

“I know.” She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

“You won’t thank me when you have to ride for five hours with all this on your lap.”

They climbed to the top of the steps into the yard just as Ivan, tail tucked securely between his legs streaked across the grass. In hot pursuit were a pair of long, lean cats. Mikhail let out a manful sigh.

“He is an embarrassment to the family.”

“Poor little thing.” Sydney shoved the package she carried at Mikhail. “Ivan!” She clapped her hands and crouched down. “Here, boy.”

Spotting salvation, he swung about, scrambled for footing and shot back in her direction. Sydney caught him up, and he buried his trembling head against her neck. The cats, sinuous and smug, sat down a few feet away and began to wash.

“Hiding behind a woman,” Mikhail said in disgust.

“He’s just a baby. Go arm wrestle with your brother.”

Chuckling, he left her to soothe the traumatized pup. A moment later, panting, Freddie rounded the side of the house. “There he is.”

“The cats frightened him,” Sydney explained, as Freddie came up to stroke Ivan’s fur.

“They were just playing. Do you like puppies?” Freddie asked.

“Yes.” Unable to resist, Sydney nuzzled. “Yes, I do.”