"I didn't give you that herbal mixture so you'd act on a physical attraction to her, you know," Charlotte said, seeming to read my thoughts. "I hope more for you than that. That was just to get the blood flowing, if you know what I mean." She winked at me and I scowled. Disgusting that we should discuss this. She had practically raised me. But she continued on before I could stop her. "To the body and the heart. And as for Kira, she doesn't want a purely physical relationship with you either, you know."

I paused, not able to help my interest. "How do you know that?"

"Because she's a woman. That's how I know that."

I considered her words. If we enjoyed each other's bodies, would Kira really want more? No, she barely seemed to like me half the time. But she did like my touch. That much was clear. Thinking back now, that constant hum of sexual awareness had been there from the very beginning, had been present the first time my skin had touched hers. I just hadn't acknowledged it because I'd been too busy judging her, resenting her, and then being driven to distraction by her ridiculous antics. But I wasn't denying it anymore. I didn't think there was any reason we couldn't keep things on a physical level. For my part, I knew I could enjoy her body without falling for her. I would. I was finished denying myself where it came to the mostly exasperating, but highly desirable little witch. Now I'd just have to convince her, too.

The protectiveness I'd felt toward Kira when I'd found her sick and feverish in her bed had worried me for the first couple hours I'd cared for her. But then, before I'd had time to fully consider it, Charlotte’s herbs kicked in, and it had just been all I could do to survive my own body, the effort at self-control making me too exhausted to think. Perhaps in some strange way, it had been a good thing. But considering it now, I concluded it was just a natural male reaction to want to protect your own wife—even one of nothing more than convenience.

Eventually, I expected, that would go by the wayside. Just like our marriage.

"Speaking of Kira," I said, "where is the little troublemaker?"

"I don't know. She went tearing out of here several hours ago."

I raised a brow, wondering what had been so important. Before I had the time to ask the question aloud, I heard a vehicle in the driveway. A few moments later, I heard Kira's voice call, "Hello?"

"In here, dear," Charlotte called.

I looked over my shoulder as Kira walked hurriedly into the kitchen, setting a large box on the floor with holes in the top. "What's that?" I asked, pointing at the large container.

"A surprise," she said, grinning.

I groaned. What on earth had she come up with now?

"But first," she said, sitting down on the stool next to me, "we're officially married. I brought the marriage license to Mr. Hartmann. Our check will be processed today and cut tomorrow. We can pick it up first thing in the morning."

Excitement shot through my body. "What?" I asked. "Really?"

"Really." She grinned. I couldn't help myself. I stood and picked her up in a hug, spinning her around as she laughed.

"We did it," I said almost unbelievingly, coming to a standstill and setting her on her feet in front of me. She smiled up at me, her eyes shining, her smile bright. And I earned the dimple.

"I know," she breathed. I stared down into her eyes, the need to kiss her so intense, I had to wonder if it was natural, or if Charlotte's herbs were still running rampant through my system.

I was interrupted, though, by the soft sound of something scraping from inside the box still on the floor behind us. I knitted my brows and Kira's grin increased, that bewitching dimple popping out again, as she stepped away from me, moving quickly to whatever was on the floor.

Turning, I asked, "What have you done?"

She squatted on the floor, opening the box and lifting out what looked to be a large puppy or a small dog. Soulful dark eyes stared at me warily and bright green ones regarded me excitedly. "Oh my," Charlotte gasped, hurrying over to Kira. "And who is this?" Charlotte lifted the metal tag at the dog's neck and read, "Sugie Sug?"

"It's pronounced like Sugar, but with an ie on the end," Kira said proudly. "And then like the rapper, Suge Knight. Sugie Sug."

"Oh, yes," Charlotte said, as if she even knew what a rapper was.

"Maybe I should have spelled it with an SH," Kira said, her eyes shifting upward as if in thought.

I shook my head, turning my attention back to the thing in Kira's arms. "What is a Sugie Sug?" I asked. "And what's wrong with its face?" It looked as if the entire bottom half of the dog's face, the nose and jaw, had been mangled in some way.

Kira pulled the thing, what I could now tell was an older puppy, some kind of mutt, into her chest and covered its ear with her other hand. "Shh," she said. "She can hear you, you know." She gave me a contemptuous frown. "And Sugie Sug is a she." She smiled down at the puppy who looked up at her with what looked like barely contained hope. "Aren't you, baby girl? Aren't you, sweet sugar pie? Yes you are, you're a girl, a good girl. Such a good girl. A sweet, good girl." I grimaced at the sound of the high-pitched baby talk. But apparently the puppy didn't mind it one little bit.

The dog, trembling in an obvious attempt to hold back her rapture at Kira's attentions, licked her face with that strangely deformed mouth. Kira laughed and then covered the puppy's ear again. "I rescued her. Her first owner muzzled her when she was barely weaned. And then he didn't take it off as her face grew. When she was found, she was almost dead and had to have the contraption surgically removed." She took her hand off the dog's ear. Charlotte, who was clicking and cooing like a grandma meeting her grandbaby for the first time, scratched the puppy's ears.