In truth, what she was aching for was a fight with Michael but he wasn’t here. However, this man was the same species-male-and the laughter behind his eyes told her he was fair game.

‘You’re not only rude,’ she told him, her gaze speculative. ‘You’re also racist.’

He raised his brows and his brown eyes creased into laughing disbelief. ‘You’re saying she’s smart?’

‘She’s a sweetheart.’ Rachel gave the great white hound a hug and then winced as a smear of ketchup soiled the dog’s immaculate coat. Whoops. Michael would be out with his pistols.

Where was Michael?

‘You don’t need to take my word for it,’ the man was saying. A small crowd was gathering now. The judging heats were over; final judging wasn’t for another two hours and things were slow in the dog shed. Rachel wasn’t the only one who was bored. ‘There’s tests for dog intelligence.’

‘You’re going to implement the MENSA quiz?’

‘Nothing so complicated. Lend me a piece of your hamburger.’

‘Lend… Hey, get your own hamburger.’

‘It’s in the interest of scientific research,’ he told her.

‘My daddy’s a doctor,’ the little boy said, as if that explained everything.

‘Yeah? Doctor of what?’ Rachel grinned down at the kid, beginning to enjoy herself for the first time all weekend. ‘It sounds a sneaky way to get some of my hamburger.’

‘It’s a simple experiment,’ the man told her, refusing to be sidetracked. ‘See my dog?’

The stalls and their associated sleeping quarters were raised almost three feet above the ground. Rachel peered over the edge. A lean, brown dog of indeterminate parentage gazed back at her. As big as a collie, the mutt was all legs, tail and eyes. As Rachel gazed down at him, he raised his back leg for a weary scratch.

‘Charming,’ Rachel said. ‘Great party trick.’