‘Oh, my…’ And then she paused. Kleppy.

Kleppy was a strange name but she’d hardly had time to think about it. Now… ‘Kleppy. Oh…’

Raff looked like a man starting to enjoy himself. ‘Got it,’ he said, grinning. ‘And there’s another reason you’re not offloading this mutt onto me. This is a dog who lives to present his master with surprises. No dead rats or old bones for his guy. It has to be interesting. Expensive is good. One of a set’s his favourite. Isaac gave up on him long since-he just paid for the damage and got on with it. So now here’s Kleppy, deciding you’re his new owner. Welcome to dog ownership, Abigail Callahan. You’re the proud owner of Banksia Bay’s biggest kleptomaniac-and also the littlest.’

A kleptomaniac… Kleppy.

She stared at Raff as if he was out of his mind. He gazed back, lips twitching, that dangerous smile lurking deep within.

She was about to present her fiancé with a kleptomaniac dog?

‘I don’t believe it,’ she managed at last. ‘There’s no such thing.’

‘You want to know how I know this dog?’ He wasn’t even trying to disguise his grin. ‘I’d like to say I’m personally acquainted with every dog in Banksia Bay but, even with Sarah’s help, I can’t manage that. Nope, I’m acquainted with Kleppy because I’ve arrested him.’

‘Arrested…’

‘I’ve caught him red-handed-or red-pawed-on any number of occasions. The problem is that he doesn’t know how to hide it. Like now. He steals and then he shows off.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘You’ve already said that.’

‘But…’

‘That’s why no one wants him,’ he said, humour fading. ‘He’s always been a problem. Henrietta’s had to be honest with everyone who came to the Shelter looking for the ideal pet. He isn’t ideal.