“Yes, moppet,” he said and sighed. That child was far too astute for her own good. And mine. “You two head on inside. We’ve got a lot of work to do getting that little guy settled in before Princess Lila comes tomorrow.”

At the mention of her dog trainer, Emily perked up. “Do you think she’ll wear her dress this time?”

Ford pictured the boxy suit Lila had worn today, as far removed from a princess as a person could possibly get, and laughed. “Maybe we’ll call her later and ask,” he said, deriving a considerable amount of amusement from imagining that conversation. “It never hurts to try.”

Chapter 4

Lila stared at her wardrobe with a mounting sense of frustration.

Here she was, a thirty-one-year-old college-educated woman and owner of a successful business. She drove a Prius. She spoke two languages. She had a sound retirement plan.

“Then why, oh, why, is it so hard to pick a stupid outfit?” she muttered.

She didn’t have to supply an answer. She already knew full well what was bothering her, and it definitely wasn’t a man with a ridiculous name and the best laugh she’d heard in her life.

The phone rang from the living room, saving her from the danger of dwelling on that laugh. The landline was their business number, which meant that one of her sisters would be sure to pick up the call. Sophie didn’t live in the house anymore, having moved out to live with her boyfriend in Deer Park, but she usually came by for a few hours every morning to do basic training with the puppies. Dawn could be counted on to act as secretary, too, since she rarely left the house before noon.

“Sure thing, Ms. Askari. I’ll put her on right away.” Sophie’s head popped through the door, a smile on her lips as she took in the sight of Lila standing in front of her closet clad only in her underwear. The smile was no real surprise. Dawn would have told their youngest sister all about yesterday’s beige suit. And about how she’d defected the moment she caught sight of Ford, leaving Lila at his debonair mercy.

Lila was sure they’d had a good laugh about it at her expense, too. They usually did.

“Lila, there’s a woman from the Auditory Guild on line two.”

Her sister spoke with a grave voice and professional mien that was largely faked. There was no line two on their phone. There was barely a line one, but when you were trying to impress an organization the size of the Auditory Guild, you improvised.

“Thank you, Soph.” She took the phone and tried shutting the door behind her, but that didn’t work. Sophie slipped through the crack and started rummaging through the closet, nothing but virtue on her sweet, heart-shaped face.