27| Arnica.

“I’m not sure your shoes are a good choice,” Maverick says, looking me over.

I look down at my feet. I'm wearing a pair of yellow Chuck Taylors'.

“And why is that?” I ask with a scowl on my face, trying to think of a reason why he would say that when we are just taking a tour of the property.

Should I have worn gumboots?

“You’ll scare my dogs.”

I stiffen.

“I’m not interested in seeing your dogs.”

“You don’t like dogs?”

I meet his piercing gaze and smile while bile rises in my throat. “I hate dogs with a passion.” I manage to say without my voice trembling.

“That's too bad. You’re meeting them, anyway.” He takes my hand and leads me outside across the lawn.

“Maverick, please. I don’t want to see your dogs!” I try to pull away as we walk around the estate. “Maverick!” I cry out, causing him to stop dead in his tracks, and he takes my chin between his fingers.

“They're guard dogs, Angel, but they are unfamiliar with your scent. You must meet them so they can familiarize and ack