She had trouble hovering her finger over the button, it was shaking so badly. What was wrong with her hand? Another dumb question. She knew perfectly well it was leftover trembling from Mr. Gaspar Zakaria’s touch. Stop! Stop! Stop. You cannot—will not—fall for him. The man is off-limits. Somehow Tonya managed to take, and process, the x-rays of the cat. She slipped the films inside the lighted boxes and put on her glasses to view the first one, of the cat’s hind leg. “Looks like a break in the metatarsus,” came a soft voice from over her shoulder. The sound—and accent-less English—made her literally leap into the air. She spun on Gaspar, claws distended, ready for battle. “I owe you a serious apology.” “You damn well do.” She whirled away and, stiff-spined, went back to reading the x-rays. How dare he deceive her that way! No, it was her fault, for being taken in by a handsome face. For thinking he might be different from other men.
