Immortal Angel (Argeneau #31) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,20

come stay the night. The woman loved dogs almost as much as she did. Ildaria didn’t tell her that she had a job now, she merely said that the dog sitter G.G. had hired to look after H.D. had let him down and she didn’t want to leave the poor fur ball stuck in his office all night. Ildaria wanted to see Marguerite’s face when she told her that she’d got the job she’d recommended her for, plus the dog sitting position as well. She also planned to stop and pick up some flowers on the way home to give the woman as a thank-you for recommending her to G.G. and she wanted them to be a surprise too.

Ildaria was smiling to herself at the thought as she put her phone away.

“It’s all right with Marguerite then?”

A glance showed G.G. pushing through the swing doors, a medium-sized cooler in hand. Ildaria’s smile widened. “More than all right. She’s eager to give him cuddles. She thinks Julius will be grateful for the break.”

G.G.’s mouth dropped open at this and Ildaria grinned with amusement and explained, “Julius the dog, not Julius her husband.”

“Ah.” He smiled wryly. “I always forget she names her dog after her husband.”

“Do you know why?” she asked with interest. It did seem an odd habit to her, but she hadn’t got around to asking Marguerite about it.

“Yes, I do,” he said with a faint smile, and then carried the cooler around the bar, adding, “And I’ll tell you another time. I need to set up for tonight right now.”

“Oh. Of course.” She hesitated, her gaze sliding from G.G. to the cooler he held and then toward the bar. H.D. was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll grab H.D.’s leash, his favorite toy, and his food and treats,” G.G. announced, setting the cold container of blood on the bar.

“Right,” Ildaria said, relaxing and then she watched him slip back through the swinging doors. It didn’t take long before he had returned with two bags.

Moving to the cooler, he opened the lid and set one of the bags inside, saying, “This is H.D.’s food and favorite treats. There are three separate meals, each in its own container. I make his dog food myself from fresh meat and vegetables, so it has to be kept refrigerated and then microwaved before serving. The containers are microwavable, and I usually put them in for twenty-two seconds, but each microwave is different, so check it before you give it to him to make sure it isn’t too hot, because he’ll gobble it up the minute you set it down without checking it himself,” he warned.

“Okay. Check it first,” she said aloud.

“Right,” G.G. said as he closed the lid of the cooler. “He eats when he wakes up which is usually around 3 or 4 p.m., then again at 11 p.m. or midnight, and finally around 3 or 4 a.m. which is about four hours before bedtime, so three should do until you bring him back.”

Ildaria nodded, silently repeating the times in her head so she’d remember.

“As for his treats . . .” G.G. continued, and waited for her to meet his gaze, before saying firmly, “He gets no more than three in twenty-four hours. Too many treats and he becomes a roly-poly little sausage on legs and can’t jump up in his chair.”

Ildaria’s eyebrows rose at the “his chair” bit, but said solemnly, “No more than three.”

Apparently satisfied that she wouldn’t go wild and turn his dog into a roly-poly little sausage overnight, G.G. relaxed a bit and moved back around the bar, pulling a leash out of his back pocket. As she’d expected it was black leather interspersed with studs and miniature spikes, Ildaria noted before he bent, briefly disappearing from sight. He straightened again a moment later, H.D. in his arms, the leash already attached to his collar.

She watched the big giant of a man snuggle the small dog with a faint smile, and then picked up the cooler.

“I’ll get that,” G.G. protested, carrying H.D. around the bar.

“Nah.” Ildaria shook her head and led the way to the door. “I get to snuggle him up all night. You should do it while you have the chance.”

He didn’t protest further, but followed her to the door, murmuring to the dog about behaving himself at Marguerite’s, and telling him he’d miss him. It was really quite sweet, she decided as she shifted the cooler, balancing it on one hand to open the door and then holding it

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