Picture Perfect Christmas by Melanie Schuster

Author:Melanie Schuster
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Sometime later, after more loving and a shared shower, they were cuddled together in front of the fireplace finishing the delicious meal Philippe had had delivered to the suite. He’d put in one of her favorite CDs by Paul Potts and her eyes were closed as she listened to “Nessun Dorma,” a truly beautiful aria.

“I love this,” she said. “I love music, period. Zydeco, of course, and blues and jazz and R&B, but there’s something about opera that just gets to me.”

“I know. I listen to quite a bit of it myself.”

Her eyes opened in surprise. “Since when? You used to say it sounded like eight cats getting hit in the head with a suitcase.”

Philippe gave her the devastating smile that always took her breath away. “It reminded me of you. After you went away I got into it because it was like a connection to you.”

She was so touched she wanted to cry, but she caught herself. “Lulu likes it, too. Look at her,” she said.

She was lying flat on the carpet like a miniature bearskin rug and she looked totally wrapped up in the music.

“One day I was watching my Phantom of the Opera DVD,” she recalled, “and Lulu was racing around like her tail was on fire. Emmy Rossum started singing and Lulu stopped dead in her tracks. She sat down and started watching the movie and she didn’t move until it was over. She has good taste.” She laughed.

“It’s because she’s a lady, like you,” Philippe said. “Here, Lulu.” He held out a bit of cantaloupe to her. She turned her head and looked highly disappointed before flopping down again. “Well, I guess she told me.”

Chastain laughed. “You don’t understand the snack hierarchy. If there’s a cracker, she won’t eat a dog treat. If there’s a cookie, she won’t eat a cracker. If there’s meat, she won’t eat a cookie. But if there’s chicken, she won’t eat meat. And remember that cheese trumps everything. She’ll snatch a piece of cheese out of your mouth if she can. She also likes apples, but if you’re putting peanut butter on your apple slices, she has to have it, too.”

“Good God, she’s rotten,” he said.

“You have no idea. You also have to limit her people food or she’ll go on strike for her dog food. And don’t bother getting her the cute kind with the little dog on it that looks like her. She won’t eat it.”

Philippe stretched out on the floor, still watching Lulu and Chastain like they were works of art. “You take better care of that dog than some people take of their children.”

“I wish I could say you were exaggerating, but you’re not. She’s my baby,” she said simply.

“That means you’re going to be an excellent mother,” he said thoughtfully.

“What makes you think so? I might just turn into an eccentric old lady with twenty high-strung little dogs yapping around.” She got up to put the empty dishes on the room service trolley.

“I can do that,” Philippe said.

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