It wouldn’t dare, Logan decided, for fear of being plucked and banished. She looked down her lengthy nose at Amanda Sue, who sat in her father’s lap, his tie once again clamped firmly between her teeth despite all his efforts to prevent it. She looked like a pink-and-white puppy with a favorite sock in its mouth. Logan had seriously tried to interest her in something else, but she was nothing if not determined, this child of his, and she looked so downright happy and adorable that he didn’t have the heart to make her cry again. Some of the other candidates had laughed, but this woman’s disapproval was palpable. “I’ve dealt with many an unruly child,” the woman said smugly, “and my methods have proven successful in nearly every case. Believe me, I know how to bring a child to heel quickly.” It had been a long, disappointing morning, and Logan was feeling the strain. Despite his own mental canine comparisons, he rolled his eyes and snapped, “Dogs are brought to heel. I hope you aren’t saying you’ll treat my daughter like a dog.”
