Only 04 - Only Love

widened.
    Whip smiled at the look on her face. He was used to his unusual height and physical power. Shannon wasn’t. At first the contrast between his strength and her own had made Shannon uneasy. Lately, though, Whip had seen appreciation rather than fear of his strength when she watched him working.
    When Shannon pushed back from the table to get the biscuits, Prettyface’s eyes followed his mistress the short distance to the stove. She pulled out the pan and turned toward the table. As she turned, the sole of her boot caught on an uneven floor-board.
    Shannon made a startled sound and tried to regain her balance, but it was too late. Whip’s big hands grabbed her and set her upright before she could fall.
    “Are you—” began Whip.
    The rest of his words were lost in a savage snarl as Prettyface came out of the corner in a lunge and went for Whip’s throat.

7
    W HIP pushed Shannon out of danger even as he spun to face the attacking dog. Horrified, Shannon watched Whip yank the coiled lash off his shoulder. His left arm collided with Prettyface in mid-leap.
    Man and dog went down in a snarling, cursing tangle. Prettyface ended up on top. His teeth were sunk into Whip’s left hand and the coils of leather it held.
    “No, Prettyface! No! ”
    Shouting and yanking frantically, Shannon tried to drag Prettyface off Whip. The dog ignored her.
    Whip didn’t.
    “Get the hell out of the way!” he ordered.
    “But—”
    Shannon never finished her objection. With a powerful movement of his body, Whip turned over, dragging Prettyface beneath him and sending Shannon staggering away from the fight.
    She caught her balance on the old trunk full of books and looked around wildly for something to use that would subdue Prettyface. But there was nothing at hand that would free Whip before Prettyfacegot his feet under him again and sank his teeth into Whip’s throat.
    “ Prettyface! No! ”
    Her shouts had no effect.
    Struggling, flailing, man and beast slammed into the legs of the old table. It skidded and crashed against the bed, sending blankets flying. An instant later the table careened into the front door, propelled by the thrashing bodies.
    Now all Shannon could see was the corded muscles of Whip’s back and Prettyface’s hind feet raking Whip’s legs.
    “ Stop it! ”
    Even as she screamed, Shannon knew it wouldn’t do any good. Prettyface had no intention of surrendering.
    Shannon’s wild glance fell on the bucket of steaming water on the stove. She reached for the bucket, but a single touch told her that the water was much too hot. It would scald Whip and yet was much too hot. It would scald Whip and yet barely penetrate Prettyface’s thick coat.
    Abruptly the sounds of the struggle diminished. Shannon looked around.
    Prettyface was on top. Whip wasn’t moving very much at all.
    “Oh, God,” Shannon cried. “ Whip! ”
    There was no answer.
    Shannon lunged across the room and yanked away the table that was blocking the door. She dragged the shotgun from its pegs over the top of the door frame. Tears running down her face, she cocked the shotgun and turned back to shoot the dog that believed he was defending her.
    But he wasn’t. He was killing Whip.
    “Put that damned gun down,” Whip said grimly. “I’m not going to kill your mongrel wolf.But by God I’m going to teach him some manners.”
    Shannon was too shocked at hearing Whip’s voice to tell him that Prettyface had been her target. Impatiently she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked again, thinking tears must have blurred her view of what was happening.
    She saw the same thing she had seen before. Whip was mostly on the bottom of the pile, and he wasn’t moving very much at all. Prettyface’s muzzle was still pressed against Whip’s neck.
    Abruptly Shannon realized that the dog’s teeth were set in the bullwhip rather than in Whip’s throat.
    Relief swept through Shannon, only to give way to dismay. Whip’s left hand was jammed into the dog’s mouth along with the bullwhip. Dismay became fear when she realized that Whip’s other hand was clamped around Prettyface’s windpipe.
    Whip was slowly choking air and life out of her dog.
    “You’re killing him!” Shannon cried.
    “The hell I am. The son of a bitch is still kicking like a steer.”
    “Let go! He’s barely moving!”
    “Barely is too damn much with a beast this size.”
    Whip bore down harder with his right hand. His mouth was set in a harsh, determined