“Si.” She started forward again.
“Hi.” He smiled and then added, “Sorry. I wasn’t talking to you, I was addressing my . . . Arsehole!” he ended with irritation and did a little shuffling dance.
“You were addressing your arsehole?” she asked, amusement curving her lips as she reached the bar and stopped between two stools.
Looking flustered now, the man shook his head and then scowled down at something she obviously couldn’t see below the bar. “No. I—” Pausing, he did another little shimmying dance and barked, “Dammit H.D.! Stop that! You aren’t getting any food.”
Curiosity rising within her, Ildaria stepped up on the brass rail that ran along the bottom of the bar and leaned over the dark stone top to peer at the floor on the other side.
“Oh, my,” she murmured and then bit her lip to hold back a burst of laughter when she saw the tiny, cream-colored ball of fur that was presently humping the huge man’s ankle. It looked like a fluffy teddy bear come to life, and he was really romancing the big guy’s ankle.
“Your dog?” she asked mildly.
“Yeah,” he grunted, giving his leg another shake in an effort to dislodge the determined little guy.
“What kind?” she asked with interest.
“Bichonpoo,” the man said still glaring down at the dog, and explained, “Bichon Frise and toy poodle mix.”
“Oh.” Ildaria nodded, a grin pulling her lips wider as H.D. refused to be removed and continued to hump at the big man’s lower leg. Lifting her gaze to the plate the man was holding, she snatched a french fry from the pile and tossed it to the dog. The pup was immediately off the man’s leg and leaping to catch the treat. Really, it was an impressive catch. He got some serious height in his jump to snatch that fry out of midair. As the dog dropped to the floor to gobble up his prize, the man heaved a sigh, drawing her attention back to him.
Ildaria’s gaze moved with interest over his muscular body before sliding up to his head. When Marguerite had asked her if she’d mind stopping to pick up some blood from the Night Club on the way back from the university, she’d said the man she would be getting it from was G.G. which stood for Green Giant. Ildaria had immediately asked why he was called that, but the other woman had merely smiled and said she’d understand when she met him. Her gaze moving over the green strands of hair standing up stiff on his head in a Mohawk, Ildaria understood.
“That’s what he was working for and what I was trying to avoid,” G.G. announced now, reclaiming her attention to the fact that he was scowling between her and the dog.
It took Ildaria a moment to return her mind to the conversation, and then she gave a disbelieving laugh and asked, “He was humping your leg for food?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” G.G. pointed out dryly. “He humped my leg and you gave him food to get him off.”
“Ah.” She shifted her gaze down to the dog who had finished his fry and was now staring up from her to G.G., his tongue coming out repeatedly to lick his upper lip as if he was trying to tell them he wanted more. Shaking her head, she shrugged apologetically. “Sorry. But I couldn’t resist. Damn that’s one cute dog.” Opening her eyes wide, she smiled at the pooch and added, “Aren’t you, H.D.?”
When the dog focused his attention on her, she found herself using that cooing voice all humans resort to when faced with cute creatures like babies and puppies. “Aren’t you a pretty puppy? Hmm? Yes you are. You look like a little teddy bear. I just want to cuddle you all up.”
That elicited a high-pitched bark from the little fur ball, and then he turned and charged to the open end of the bar by the swinging doors and careened around it, his little nails clacking on the hardwood.
“H.D., no!” G.G. said with alarm, dropping his plate on the bar and chasing after the dog even as he warned, “Get on a stool. He doesn’t like women and he’s an ankle biter.”
Ildaria ignored the warning, and turned to face the dog as he sprinted into view around the corner of the bar, still yipping as he came. Rather than climb up on a stool, she stepped down off the brass rail and crouched down to greet the little fluffy dog. When he reached her, she caught him under the front legs and lifted him fearlessly to her face so she could press kisses to his furry cheeks. He immediately began licking wildly at any part of her face he could reach.
“Well, damn.”
Lowering the dog, Ildaria cuddled him to her chest and petted him soothingly as she glanced at his owner. The giant gave a huff of disbelief.
“That dog doesn’t like anyone but me. Usually, anyway,” G.G. added, his gaze shifting to the dog now licking her hands, neck, and chin.
Ildaria shrugged almost apologetically. “Dogs like me.”
“So it would seem,” he muttered, some of the tension sliding out of him now that the danger of the little fur ball attacking her had passed. His gaze slid from her to the dog and then to his plate of food before he heaved a sigh and headed for the swing doors. “I’ll get Marguerite’s order.”
“No rush,” Ildaria said, sliding onto one of the bar stools and settling H.D. in her lap so she could continue to pet him. “Why don’t you eat your food first so it doesn’t go cold?”
The Giant paused with his hand on one of the swing doors and looked back with surprise. “Yeah?”
“Si. Marguerite expected me to be at the university for several hours so went to visit Lissianna. There’s really no rush.”
His lips quirked with amusement at this news and he asked, “Playing hooky?”
“You have to be enrolled in classes to play hooky from them,” she pointed out unhappily.
That had his eyebrows rising and his feet carrying him back to stand on the other side of the bar from her. “I was told you were finishing your third year, taking accounting at the university.”
“Were being the key word in that sentence,” Ildaria said, her tone dry as dust. She pressed a kiss to H.D.’s head and then lifted her gaze back to G.G., surprised to find him eyeing her with concern.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said in a deep, sympathetic rumble. “Were the courses here harder than—”
“Oh, God, no,” Ildaria said quickly, dismayed at the idea that he might think she’d dropped out because she couldn’t hack the courses here. “I was doing well. I didn’t want to quit.”
“Then what happened?” he asked with confusion.
“Lucian happened,” Ildaria said bitterly, and then deciding that wasn’t fair, added, “Or to be fair, the truth is I happened, and then life happened and Lucian was forced to intercede.”
Now, the poor man looked thoroughly lost, she noted and smiled wryly, but merely reminded him, “You should really eat your dinner before it gets cold.”
G.G.’s gaze moved back to the plate between them with surprise. Apparently he’d forgotten all about his meal. Reminded of it, he nodded, but didn’t start eating at once. Instead, he raised his eyes back to her and said, “I need to get a drink. Do you want anything?”
Ildaria hesitated, but then asked, “Do you have any sodas without caffeine?”
His eyebrows rose slightly, but he asked, “Do you like Tahitian Treat?”