Free Dalton, Tymber - Doggy Tales [Doggy Tales] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Tymber Dalton Page B

going to take care of you personally. He wants the satisfaction of getting rid of you himself after what you did.”
    “But…I didn’t testify against him. I didn’t know anything!”
    “The PI showed him everything. The pictures, the surveillance video, and he bugged your apartment.” He shook his head. “Bruin sure didn’t waste any time.”
    She felt an icy chill despite the heat. “What? What video? What pictures? What the hell are you talking about?”
    “Those little sexcapades between you and your new ‘boss.’ I haven’t seen any of the stuff, but from what Lester screamed at me over the phone, it was interesting.”
    “What the hell are you talking about?” But deep in her gut a knife twisted, burning.
    “Oh, come on, you can drop the act. It’s not fooling me anymore. How long have you known Bruin, anyway?”
    “He approached me the day the verdict came in. Out in the parking lot. He offered me a job.” Even her tongue felt numb, unreliably forming mixtures of consonants and vowels that somehow produced coherent words.
    The attorney snorted. “Yeah, right . You’re fucking screwing the goddamned guy. You expect me to believe the cousin and best friend of the guy your boyfriend murdered would offer you a job, just like that? I was born at night, sweetheart, but not last night.”

    * * * *

    Genna couldn’t go home yet. Her body felt too numb to drive. Her appetite gone, she drifted through the lobby to the elevators in shock, trying to process everything. Lindsey wasn’t there, but Ivan stuck his furry head out from around the corner of the desk and looked at her.
    When she stepped into the elevator he streaked inside with her before the door could close. He stared at her and whined.
    Genna backed into the corner and watched as he pawed at the button for the fourth floor before turning to stare at her again, whimpering.
    Her tears fell. This was too much. She was losing her mind.
    “Please don’t eat me, Ivan.”
    His hoarse bark could have been a laugh. He shook his head. When the doors slid open, Genna stood frozen, unable to move with the large dog in her way.
    He slowly approached, nuzzling her hand, licking it. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain of teeth crushing bone. He gently mouthed her hand, using barely any pressure against her skin.
    He tugged, whining.
    With full acknowledgement that her sanity was rapidly slipping through her fingers, she let the large dog slowly lead her through the empty halls to her office. She had to force herself to breathe several times, scared at any moment he would sink his vicious canines into her. She didn’t see anyone else to ask to help her, and she was afraid to scream for help for fear of scaring him into attacking her.
    Once she was in the office, he released her hand and got behind her, head butting her in the ass, nudging her toward Bruin’s office.
    Too scared to resist, she let the large dog push her into the office. When she stood before one of the chairs, he backed off and gently woofed. Still clutching her uneaten lunch, she sat.
    He wheeled around and loped to the door, jumping up on his hind feet and pushing it shut. Then he turned and disappeared into Bruin’s private bathroom, his low, guttural snarl terrifying her.
    Maybe she could lock him in and escape?
    Then the guttural snarl transformed into distinct, legible words in a familiar voice.
    “ Goddamn him, I fucking told him so. I fucking told him so! Where the hell does he—oh, there’s one.”
    Ivan—the two-legged hunky version—appeared in the bathroom doorway, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else.
    Genna stared, her jaw lax in disbelief. Dreaming. I must be dreaming. Where the hell did he come from?
    He crossed the room in three long strides, kneeling in front of her, his huge hands engulfing hers.
    They felt hot—or was she cold? Her teeth chattered. Was this shock?
    “Genna,” he said, “listen to me. What’s going on? What happened? Who was