Even if she saw Dante at work, she wouldn’t confront him about why he left her alone in the desert before he finished his game of seduction. That was one discussion she’d rather not get into at work because of how angry she was. At the moment, she could frighten away the biggest, meanest guard dog with a glance. Great sex or not, Dante was exasperating and she intended to tell him they were through. Exhausted and frustrated, she yanked open her front door, stumbled over a cardboard box on her porch and spilled her coffee. At first the small object inside looked like a discarded ball of orange angora yarn. Crouching down, she poked it with a finger. The fluffball moved and meowed. A kitten, a very young one from the size of the thing, was curled up on a pile of rags. It raised its tiny head, blinked and meowed again. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said to the cat. Glancing up and down her street, she looked for the culprit who’d abandoned the creature. The kitten looked only a few weeks old and could fit on her palm.
