Read Online Best Friends by Samantha Glen - Free Book Online

one of a dude string in the Grand Canyon but was abandoned to starve when he got too old to work.
    Michael was not alone in seeing that their plan to build more shelter for both people and animals before taking in any more critters was mere wishful thinking. The animals were coming—and much sooner than anyone had expected. Michael knew that meant his time, thoughts, and energy would be taken up even more by this place that he now knew would be his home forever.
    That may have been why he was thinking about his family in England lately. His father had died when he was two, his mother when he was sixteen. The rest of the clan had been expecting him to come into the family businesses, of which the crown jewel was Granada Television.
    But the family’s way was not Michael’s, and when he dropped out of Oxford University, dashing all their hopes and plans for him, the break was deep and bitter. His preferring to work with animal groups was the final insult as far as the family were concerned, and they washed their hands of him.
    Distance, and the passage of years, had mellowed Michael. If he could, he wanted to heal the breach with his family—to make things right before embarking on what he considered to be the most important work of his life.
    Francis had a favor to ask before he left. “You’re coming back through New York, aren’t you?”
    â€œThat’s my plan. Why?”
    â€œI’ve kept in touch with some friends who work at the local shelter. They’re very upset about this woman who breeds show dogs.”
    Michael grimaced.
    â€œI know, I know. My friends have been trying like crazy to find a home for one of this breeder’s Dobermans. He’s a gentle, sweet animal, but the woman complains he’s not performing well. She doesn’t want to keep him, and they can’t find a home for him.”
    Michael knew what was coming.
    â€œThe woman is willing to meet you at Kennedy with a kennel and money to ship the dog. I said we’d help out.”
    â€œFrancis, we’re not set up yet. Besides, that’s not the kind of animal we said we’d take. It’s healthy, a purebred. She should try to find a home.”
    â€œ She’s talking of putting it to sleep, or taking it to the city pound.” Francis had that stubborn bulldog, “I’ll-argue-til-you-capitulate,” look on his face.
    Michael sighed. “You’re such a soft touch.”
    â€œOnly when it comes to the four-leggeds.”
    Â 
    Loitering on Row B2, Level 5 of the parking garage at Kennedy Airport on a Saturday in August wasn’t exactly what Michael had in mind when he agreed to bring the Doberman home with him.
    He had been waiting like a sweating idiot for over an hour for the breeder to show, and his feeling of suffocation was fast turning into claustrophobia. Michael didn’t even like being in a room with the door closed, let alone shut up with a million cars in a building where he couldn’t even breathe the air.
    The roar of yet another sports car blasted his ears as it screamed up the ramp and flew down the aisle toward him. Michael winced and jumped back hurriedly as a Corvette accelerated into the parking space next to him.
    Try to get a little closer, fella, he scowled, almost gagging as the acid bite of gasoline fumes hit the back of his throat. He’d kill Francis for this one. Where was the woman?
    He looked at his watch for the tenth time. She couldn’t have missed him. Francis had told her to look for a tall, skinny Englishman with big, curly hair. Well, he supposed she couldn’t guess he was English.
    He turned as a fire-engine red Porsche Carrera rounded the far corner and burned rubber toward him. The driver hit the brakes and the Porsche screeched to a stop. A window opened in a billow of perfume and a woman with a chic, short Vidal Sassoon haircut stuck her head out. “Michael? Michael