Читать книгу Does She Dare? - Tawny Weber - Страница 7

“I NEED A REAL MAN,” Isabel Santos decided. She shot a bleary look across the table at her best friend, then squinted to take in the rest of the cozy Italian restaurant. Although she and Audra were still seated, there were a few couples on the dance floor, swaying to the soft rock music.

At half past eleven in the evening, the only men left were a pair of waiters who were obviously into each other, a teenaged busboy and the cook. Considering the pasta had been overdone, Isabel crossed him off her potential list.

“I have to admit, a man would have been a more imaginative birthday gift than the nightie I gave you,” her friend mused, snagging Isabel’s attention back from her useless hunk-search. “But I wasn’t sure what size you were in the market for.”

Isabel snickered.

“It’s not the size that matters, it’s the quality,” she insisted, careful to enunciate her words through the fog of wine curling through her head. She really should have quit at one glass, but she’d been so bummed over being dumped, turning another year older and discovering she was as desirable as a dried-up prune, she’d ordered a second. Then a third. “I need a real man. A hot, sexy man. The kind that makes a girl squirm, but doesn’t require conversation and pampering. You know, a stud.”

Audra Walker-Martinez, Isabel’s oldest friend, was probably the only person in the world who she’d feel comfortable saying that to. Then again, Audra was an expert on hot, sexy men.

“I’m all for you taking on a hot guy, especially now that you’ve dumped that pansy boy you were dating. But maybe we should wait until you’re—”

“I didn’t dump Lance. He dumped me.” Isabel sneered, her voice rising as she warmed to the subject. “He was lousy in bed. But no matter how many times I tell myself it’s no loss, I still feel like I got ripped off. I’m twenty-six, Audra. The years I should have spent exploring my sexuality, living out my wild fantasies, they’ve passed me by. I can’t afford to wait any longer.”

Cringing, her face going flame-red at the cook’s disapproving stare and the grins of the waiters, Isabel stopped her rant to suck in a deep breath.

Audra lifted one brow and pursed her lips. “I had been about to suggest we wait till you were sober to make a man plan, but hey, we can start now.”

Man plan? Isabel giggled at the absurd idea, then her laughter fell away. Well why not? Before taking on any new venture, the first thing she did was sit down and make a plan. Business plans, life plans, weight-loss plans. Damned if most of them hadn’t all worked. So why wouldn’t a man plan?

“I want the ultimate fantasy plan,” she mused as she hauled her suede hobo bag up to the table and started digging through it. “Something with a limited time frame, you know? I mean, I have such a tight schedule trying to get the new store up and running, I can’t have a bunch of distractions right now.”

Isabel found her ever-present notepad, flipped to a clean page, and chose a pen—red for passion, of course.

“Okay, first step is to define the goal. Sex is a little too broad, don’t ya think?” Isabel tapped the pen against her bottom lip. “Hot sex is better, but still not right. What d’ya think? Fling? Affair? Boy toy? Bootie call?”

She glanced up to see Audra grimace. “What?”

“Nothing,” Audra denied. At Isabel’s pointed look, she shrugged. “It’s just…well, this isn’t you. I mean, the plan part, that’s all you. Goal setting, control, you’ve got a firm handle on those. But to make a plan specifically targeted at snagging you some emotionless, string-free, temporary sex? That’s the wine talking.”

“Nope.” Isabel shook her head so hard, her curls flew. “I had a fling once. I can totally do it again.”

“That fling was a failure, remember? The liar was married and didn’t tell you. You were a mess for months afterward.”

Isabel wrinkled her nose and tried to shrug like it hadn’t mattered. She had been a mess. Not heartbroken, although she’d felt like she should be. But angry and betrayed. The worst of the anger had been aimed at herself, though. She’d given into the romance of being swept off her feet by a sexy guy. She’d been so enamored with all her romantic notions, she’d ignored the warning signs. Separated. And she’d found out from his wife, who thought they were trying to work things out.

The worst part? The jerk had never seen anything wrong with lying to her. To him, as long as he and his wife had different addresses, he was free to do whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter that Isabel’s idea of free was completely different.

But that had been two years ago, before she’d discovered the power of control. A weekend goal seminar had taught her all about it. Since control was already one of Isabel’s favorite things, the seminar had been like finding heaven. All the tools she needed to shift from being a woman who doodled plans and wishes with minimal success to a take-charge business entrepreneur with a solid business plan and a firm handle on her life’s direction.

So why not apply the same principles in order to get a rocking sex life?

All she had to do was make this man plan and stick to it. As long as she did that, life couldn’t fall apart on her again. Now that she thought about it, that must’ve been the problem with her relationships in the past, especially with Lance. No plan, no goal. She’d just floated along, letting the guy set the tone for the relationship. Oh, sure, she’d hoped he’d be the one. But hoping wasn’t planning. It just went to show, the one area of her life she’d left to fate was her love life, and fate kicked her in the ass.

Nope. Outlining her exact wants and needs, then setting specific goals worked pretty well for everything else. She just had to apply it here, to her love life. Or, she corrected with a naughty little smile, what she’d soon make her love life.

“I want hot sex,” she insisted, now that she’d made up her mind. The busboy, clearing glasses from a neighboring table, shot them a startled look. Audra gave him a wink. He blushed and scurried away before Isabel could order another glass of wine.

Isabel rolled her eyes. Audra winked and made guys run—to and away from her. Isabel still hadn’t quite figured out how to get a guy’s undivided attention…or what she’d do with it once she had it.

As usual, watching Audra made her painfully aware of their differences. Audra could pull off that flirty, spontaneous thing. Isabel worried so much about looking stupid, about failing, that she avoided spontaneity whenever possible.

Not that she had self-esteem issues, really. She knew she was pretty, if in a cutesy way with her shoulder-length, dark curls. Audra, on the other hand, wore her hair short and spiky, the midnight-black tipped in magenta.

Their outer personalities were just as different. Audra being all edgy and wild, where Isabel was known as a good girl.

Inside they were more alike that most people would believe. Not only in their insecurities, but in their drive to have more for themselves than they’d had as kids living next door to each other. Audra’d created a career for herself as a lingerie designer, and Isabel who had started her florist career in her parents’ shop was on the brink of kicking off the next phase of her career plan with an innovative new florist shop. Finally, something completely on her own, a venture that would prove to she was a success.

And now she’d apply that planning savvy to the dismal emptiness that was her love life. Between excitement and the wine, it was all Isabel could do not to clap her hands together in excitement. This man plan was going to rock.

“C’mon, quit scaring little boys,” she insisted. “Help me here. Consider it my birthday gift.”

“I gave you a silk nightgown,” Audra reminded her, even as she slid the notebook and pen out of Isabel’s hands.

“Yeah, but the rest of the gift can be a guy to wear the nightgown for. Your designs deserve an audience, right? Help me get one.”

A small, sober voice in Isabel’s head pointed out that she sounded desperate and needy. It wasn’t like she was a troll with no prospects. But she knew she was the kind of gal who drew in nice guys. The ones who paid more attention to their stock portfolio and cholesterol levels than they did to mind-blowing physical satisfaction.

Take Lance, for instance. Oh, he was fine on the surface. Good-looking, smart and ambitious. But sex with him was like eating Chinese food. She’d been fulfilled in the moment, but a half hour later she’d felt unsatisfied and puzzled as to why.

“Okay, consider this my gift to you, part two,” Audra agreed. She sketched a few words on the page. “Let’s start with the basics. You want hot sex. What turns you on? What’re your fantasies?”

“Rules first. Before I get to the sex, I need the guidelines firmly established,” Isabel insisted.

Never one for rules, Audra just rolled her eyes. But she wrote the numbers one through three on the page anyhow.

“Only three?”

“Too many rules just get in the way. This is it, all you get.” She tapped the pen on the page, then raised a brow, as if to ask well?

“Okay, number one—I’m in control. I want to call the shots in this relationship instead of being the one following along like an enthusiastic puppy.”

Audra nodded and wrote that down.

“Number two—once you’re committed to the plan, you can’t second-guess yourself,” Audra declared. “It’s all or nothing. I know you, if you start second-guessing, you’ll back out before you even get started.”

“Fine,” Isabel agreed with a huff. She thought, then poked at the paper. “Number three—no silly ideas about falling in love. It’s just sex. Wild, insanely passionate sex.”

“That’s a given,” Audra argued. “Why waste a rule on that?”

“Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything,” Isabel said, only half-lying, “but I think with the right guy, if the sex is so excellent and wonderful, it’d be easy to fool yourself into believing it’s all romantic. Like love-at-first-kiss.”

Audra rolled her eyes, but wrote it down anyway. “Okay, let’s get to the fantasies.”

“I said I wanted a hot, sexy man,” Isabel reminded her meticulously.

“A hot sexy man isn’t gonna do you any good if he’s not pushing the right buttons. Any dork can be the hottest sex you’ve ever had if he’s tapping into your fantasy.”

Isabel considered, then dismissed that theory. She wanted a hot sexy man, not a talented dork. The fantasy angle had potential though.

“How do I make a fantasy list?”

“Think of the hottest guy you’ve ever seen. Real life, movie, whatever. What guy out there, just by thinking about him, gets you hot?”

She didn’t even have to consider it. All she had to do was close her eyes and a face flashed into her mind. Unruly dark hair, vivid green eyes and a body to die for. The hottest, sexiest, guy she’d ever met.

“From the grin on your face, you’ve got someone in mind?”

“Oh, yeah. Remember Dante Luciano?”

“Nice,” Audra said, her tone both appreciative and amused. “Dante was trouble, through and through. He was so bad, he made me look like a goody-goody.”

Which was saying a lot, since back then Audra had one of the wildest reps to ever hit the local high school.

“His father’s my contractor, you know?” Isabel said.

When her parents had retired earlier that year, they’d sold the family florist shop and adjoining apartment. Then they’d given her the money to fund her new location. A darling Victorian located on the main street of Santa Vera. The small, tourist haven in Northern California was a few miles from her hometown of Auburn. Close enough to keep some of the existing customer base, far enough away to feel like she was finally striking out on her own.

“Didn’t you have to talk to him or something at a party back when we were kids?” Audra frowned, obviously trying to remember.

Isabel just shrugged. She’d never discussed that that night with Audra. At first, because she’d been grounded for three months and hadn’t been allowed to go out of the house or to make any phone calls. Later, because she hadn’t wanted to hear how bad or how far out of her reach Dante was.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t hook up with Dante, then,” Audra said with a laugh. “He and his dad had major issues. I remember a few times he ended up staying at our place after his old man kicked him out.”

Twirling one long black curl around her finger, Isabel frowned. She’d never been jealous of Audra’s reputation or lifestyle before. But she’d always been curious.

“Did you and Dante ever, you know…”

Audra gave her trademark wicked grin and winked. When Isabel frowned, she laughed and shook her head. “Nah, we never did more than flirt. Dante was a couple years ahead of us, remember. He was tight with my brother, Drew. By the time I was up to his standards, he’d left town.”

Before Isabel could do more than wonder at the relief surging through her, Audra tapped the notepad with the pen. “Okay, keep your fantasy guy in mind and let your imagination soar. Let’s come up a few hot fantasies for him to fulfill.”

Isabel eyed her friend, then the notepad. She turned around and called out to the waiter, “Another glass of wine, please.”

WHO KNEW BEING A YEAR OLDER would hurt this bad? Isabel pressed the heel of her hands to her forehead to try to keep the pounding from making her eyeballs explode.

She wasn’t sure what was worse, the hangover or the sense of impending doom tapping on her shoulder. All these big plans, everything she wanted, was right here, spread out across her desk.

Could she make it happen?

A glance at the color-coded and bulleted spreadsheet told her she was a week behind on the shop renovations. Another week and she stood to lose her contract with the town council for their spring festival. Since she needed that contract to launch her business with enough success to avoid becoming a first-year statistic, she couldn’t afford the loss.

Everything she had was invested in this new floral shop. Years of planning, of dreaming and hoping. And she was going to lose it all because her contractor broke his foot? Panic rumbled sickeningly in her stomach. She couldn’t fail. Her parents’ retirement depended on her success. Their pampered and protected only child—they expected her to excel. They’d sold their store and loaned her the money to open this new floral and gift shop. Sure, they said they wanted to move to the little town in Oregon and retire next to her aunts, but she knew it was because they couldn’t both lend her the money and afford to retire in California.

She couldn’t let them down. She just couldn’t.

Pushing the spreadsheet aside, Isabel grabbed her notebook to outline a possible plan of attack to get the renovations finished on time. Flipping pages, her eyes went wide. She flipped back.

The Man Plan.

Holy shit. She pressed her index finger to the vein throbbing in her right temple. Had she and Audra actually made a plan to catch a guy? A hot sexy guy? Glancing over the pages, a reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. They’d actually created something excellent here.

She ran her finger down the page.

Rules:

1 Take control.

2 No second-guessing or backing out.

3 No falling in love.

Steps:

Find the perfect guy—check credentials.

Feel him out—or up. Make sure the spark is there.

Take the list in order; build up the tension.

Set a time limit. Two weeks is ideal affair length.

Cut him loose. Remember rule three.

Fantasies:

Hot, sexy kiss—make me melt.

Slow, sexy dance. Get a feel for the moves.

Hot, wild and a little rough up against the wall.

Intense passion in a semi-public place.

Pure romance-novel sex. Complete with a ride on a white horse along the beach.

A smorgasbord of sexual pleasure, complete with whipped cream, strawberries and lots of decadent chocolate.

Water play, shower, bath, hot tub. Something with pulsating heat.

Tied up and crazy—for extra spice, add a dollop of chocolate.

Isabel snickered. Right. Like she had time for something like this. Maybe after she’d opened the shop. Or later, once Sweet Scentsations had wowed the town and made its niche. There wasn’t any deadline on the Man Plan.

Regardless, she couldn’t worry about it now. She simply had too much to do. Tearing the pages from her notebook, she tossed them on the corner of her desk with a smirk.

Her priority right now was the renovations. With the click of her mouse, she pulled up the phone number and dialed the home of her balance-challenged contractor.

“Mrs. Luciano? Hi, it’s Isabel Santos. I’m calling to see how Mr. Luciano is doing and if my job might be back on schedule soon?”

The sweet older lady launched into a description of the extent of the fracture, the extent of Mr. Luciano’s displeasure with his confinement, and their worries about losing business.

With a wince, Isabel crossed “get out of contract and hire a new contractor” off her tentative plans.

“Do you have any idea of a timeframe?” she asked, wishing she were the hard-as-nails type who’d insist they meet the original deadlines.

“I found someone to step in,” Mrs. Luciano assured her. “He’s a wonderful carpenter. Actually one of Frank’s best, although lord knows the man won’t admit it.”

Isabel listened with half an ear while she clicked her mouse, synced her revised to-do list with her task list and updated her renovation plan.

“He said he’d go directly there,” Mrs. Luciano continued, “He wanted to look over the job first. Afterwards I’ll get him the paperwork.”

“I have a copy of the work schedule and renovation outline here,” Isabel told her. “Why don’t I just print it out for him? That’ll save a few steps.”

“Wonderful idea. That’ll keep Frank from knowing—I mean, from having to wake up and do it himself. The more rest he gets, the better, you know.”

Isabel frowned. Had she missed something?

“Mr. Luciano is okay with this substitution, isn’t he?”

“This is fine. Perfect, even. Don’t you worry. Luciano Construction promises the best, and more important, the best on time. Your renovations will be fabulous and I’m sure we’ll be back on track, time-wise, quite soon.”

Magic words to Isabel’s ears. With a relieved smile, she said her goodbyes and, with the click of the mouse, sent the schedule and outline to her printer.

Two seconds later she cursed. The printer made another loud cracking screech. Paper jam. Again. She tugged the stuck, then ripped paper out of the machine, tossing the bits in the trash. Hit print. Nothing but another grind. She sighed and bent down to find the jam.

A minute later, Isabel jumped back in shock as the machine started spewing pages before she could get the paper-guide back in place. Grabbing the printed sheets before they hit the floor, she tossed them on the corner of the desk, fit the guide in place, then shoved the stack from her desk under the still-printing pages.

Spying the first page of her Man Plan on the floor, she grabbed the sheet of paper. Before she could find the second page, a loud roaring outside ricocheted in painful volume through the room. Thunder? Isabel pressed a hand to her aching head as the sound throbbed all the way through her body. She moved to the window just in time to see a huge Harley pull up to the curb. With a flick of his wrist, the rider killed the ignition. Silence followed, and she wasn’t sure how she knew, but Isabel was sure that in the few seconds he sat there, the guy had taken in every aspect of the house and property.

Wow. Hot, sexy and delivered right to her doorstep? Isabel grinned. Almost like a fantasy? Or better yet, a birthday joke from her best friend. Would Audra send a hot dude to say hi? She snickered. She wouldn’t put it past her. After all, Isabel had made a Man Plan. Audra was bound to tease her about it. Too amused not to go check things out, she moved away from the window.

Anxious to see what kind of guy her birthday wish had conjured up, Isabel opened the front door and stepped out into the cool morning air on her wide, wraparound porch.

Even hidden by his helmet and black leather jacket, he was clearly a man used to making grown women drool. Amusement replaced by sudden lust, Isabel swallowed, glad her mouth was too dry to humiliate her.

Eyeing him as he swung his leg over the bike to stand tall on the sidewalk, she descended the front steps.

Lust was fleeting, she assured herself. Man Plan or not, it had all been a joke. A crazy idea spurred on by too much wine. She’d get over it. Even as she recalled the sexual fantasies she’d concocted, she realized this guy wasn’t for her. He was too much. Too sexy, too tough, too damned big. Too everything. Images of just how big he might be flashed through her mind. Isabel’s breath shuddered out and she waved a hand over her face to stir some cooling air.

The guy unzipped his jacket, the sound loud in the quiet afternoon street. Isabel watched, mesmerized, as he slid well-muscled arms from the sleek leather.

After tossing the jacket across the seat, he took off his helmet. Isabel’s breath whooshed out at the sight.

Black hair curled in damp waves to his collar, surrounding a face meant for sin. A slash of cheekbones and strong chin were the perfect frame for intense green eyes.

She eyed his mouth, the half-assed smirk assuring her he was trouble waiting for an invitation.

An invitation she was tempted to issue. Her list of sexual fantasies played out in Technicolor in her imagination. Each and every one starring the hottest guy she’d ever lusted after.

Dante Luciano, bad boy extraordinaire.

Isabel’s heart stopped. Impossible, yet there he was. There was no way Audra could have pulled this off as a joke. At least, not this quickly.

She took a visual inventory. Long, hard and sexy. Drool-worthy, as a matter of fact. A pierced ear, tribal tattoo on his bicep, and a black T-shirt molded over a chest that looked like it was carved from stone. Amazing! He’d actually improved with age. She hadn’t thought it possible.

“How’re you doing?” he asked. Even his words were sexy. Low and husky, there was an underlying something in his voice that made her stomach clench. It was like teetering at the top of a roller coaster, knowing one tiny push and you’d plummet. Dark, dangerous but oh-so-tempting.

She swallowed, trying to find her own voice.

“Fine, thanks,” she answered after clearing her throat.

Irritated with herself when her pulse wouldn’t steady, Isabel lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders to look taller. His gaze held hers for a brief second, then dropped to her breasts. Her breath caught. Isabel knew she was modestly covered. Her silk T draped more than hugged, barely showing any cleavage. Even so, his gaze felt like a caress. Soft, knowing, purely sexual. Heat curled deep in her belly.

“Two-eighty-five Main Street. Sweet Scentsations, right? I’m Dante Luciano. Luciano Construction.” His gaze slid back up her features, appreciation clear in those hypnotic eyes as he met her wide-eyed stare. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I hear you’ve got a list for me to take care of?”