Читать книгу Does She Dare? - Tawny Weber - Страница 8

DANTE LUCIANO SLID a long look over the woman staring up at him. Dark curls, a delicate face and curvy little body. Not bad. Even better was the look of appreciation in her eyes. Nothing like watching a woman enjoy the view.

The clothes, long flowy skirt and simple top in a muted shade of purple, were a little mellow for his tastes, but he had a good enough imagination to figure what was beneath the yards of material. Between his imagination and the look in her eyes, working with her might turn out to be a very sweet distraction. One he wouldn’t mind tasting a few times while here in town.

Who knew Santa Vera had gained such a nice view in the years he’d been gone? His shoulders twitched under the weak morning sunlight. He tried to shake off the feeling of claustrophobia that had engulfed him the minute he’d crossed the city limits into town. A man who prided himself in making life a pleasure, Dante made a point to avoid discomfort whenever possible. And Santa Vera always lived up to its promise of discomforting him. In spades.

As soon as he helped his mom with this guilt-induced favor, he’d say his good-byes and get the hell out of town. He was sure Santa Vera would be glad to see him go.

“Isabel Santos?” he asked, remembering the contact name his mom gave him.

“I’m Isabel,” she murmured. “How’d you know about my list?”

Dante frowned. Was he missing something? “Sylvia Luciano’s my mother. She told me you had some changes to the scheduled renovations.”

Sharply arched black brows drew together over eyes the same color as a stormy sky. She looked like she was taking a mental step backward, then gave him another once-over. This time it wasn’t nearly as hot. He figured his name finally registered.

He didn’t know if he should sneer or sigh. Almost a decade later and he was still the bad boy of Santa Vera? You’d think they’d have found something else to gossip about after all this time. Then again, he hadn’t changed his wild ways much, so why would he expect the town to quit being a pain in his ass?

“I didn’t realize you worked for your father,” she said with a frown.

“I don’t.” He wasn’t about to admit that his mother blackmailed him, though, so he just shrugged. “I’m helping out on a couple jobs. It’s just temporary.”

“Right, short-term. Sounds like the perfect plan…” Her voice trailed off, and an intriguing look crossing her face. He suddenly felt like a one-pound box of rich, creamy chocolates sitting in front of a starving woman. And damned if he wouldn’t enjoy her diving in for a taste.

Maybe this stint in purgatory wouldn’t be too bad with the help of the sweet Ms. Santos.

Then, like she’d given herself a mental shake, her face cleared. “So in a roundabout way, you’re working for me, hmm?”

At his shrug her face went smooth, a professional mask falling over her porcelain features. Dante grimaced. He hated masks.

But unlike his typical reaction—to sneer and turn away—Isabel’s mask made him want to coax it off her. Odd, since he was a man who definitely preferred the easy route. And coaxing anything from a woman, no matter how sexy, always ended up with him wrapped in strings. And strings were never easy.

With that in mind, Dante wasn’t sure why he gave Isabel his most charming smile. The kind that usually made women melt and go all soft and agreeable. He leaned close, just enough make her eyes widen. Her perfume, the scent of spicy sensuality, swirled around him.

“I’d say we’re working together, if you know what I mean.” Grin in place, he watched for her reaction. Sweet thing like her, he figured she’d go all outraged and uptight.

Instead, her full lips twitched and Isabel’s eyes twinkled with humor. A soft gust of wind sent her curls bouncing around her shoulders.

“If you think I’m going to do you any good when it comes to hammering drywall, you’re going to be sadly disappointed,” she informed him. “I have many talents—” her pause sent a shaft of heat straight through Dante’s body as he imagined two or three he’d like to try out “—but construction isn’t on the list.”

“No?” He cast another look over her body, then met her eyes and winked. “What is on that list of yours?”

“You’d be surprised,” she said with a laugh that hinted at nerves. “For now, let’s focus on the renovations, hmm?”

Dante glanced around the tidy commercial neighborhood. Quaint and picturesque brick sidewalks flanked cute buildings. The whole street screamed uptight, upright and closed-minded. Dante was willing to admit he might be a little bitter, given his history here. In truth, he’d earned the wild reputation they tagged him with, but that still didn’t make this his kind of place. He wondered how soon he could finish and go home to the beach. He missed Southern California already.

“The details were a little vague when I got the call to come help. Just that you’d paid your money and had a deadline. Want to fill me in?”

“Sure. Your father’s already finished the basic renovations. The apartment upstairs is done and the storefront has been framed, but not completed. Before your father broke his foot, we’d discussed making a few changes to the initial plans.”

She reeled off a grocery list of jobs still to be done. Two refrigerators, the small kitchen, finish work, floor, bathroom tiles and fixtures. Among other things.

“Damn, that’s a lot of work. And you want it all done by the original date?” Dante paused, wondering how that was going to translate, time-wise. He wanted to be on the road by the end of the month. Could he finish this job in twenty-six days? “I’ve got a tight schedule myself. I hope you’re okay with me being here a lot.”

Her eyes had heated to a smoky haze. Dante didn’t know what had inspired the change, but the sexy look was doing wild things to his body. Watching those heavily fringed gray eyes blur made him want to see if he could make them go even darker with a little loving.

He’d bet his Harley he could.

“C’mon in, I’ll show you around,” was all she said. “After you’ve seen what’s what, I’ll get you the list.”

He gestured for her to go ahead. After a long look, she nodded and turned to lead the way up the wooden steps to the house. He noted the outside was in good shape. An ode to its time period, the gingerbread trim and spindled porch seemed to say “c’mon in and check us out.” He wondered what she’d be selling inside.

Dante slid his gaze down her body, letting himself linger on the way the silky fabric of the skirt molded itself to her legs and butt as she walked ahead of him up the stairs. She had amazingly long legs for a woman of less-than-average height.

Long enough to wrap around a man and hold tight. He’d imagine they were silky smooth, too. His fingers warmed at the thought of sliding them down her leg. He’d start at the calf, there just below her skirt. He’d smooth a path over the delicate curve of her ankle and down to her toes. Then he’d give himself the pleasure of a return trip, only this time he’d keep heading north.

“You do work in construction, right?” Isabel asked, pulling him out of his sexy little detour. She shot him a sidelong look as she opened one side of the double door. “I don’t remember your father saying anything about this being a family business. I’m not questioning your abilities or anything, but it’d definitely be a plus if you’re experienced enough to handle this job.”

“I don’t work for Luciano Construction, no.” According to his old man, Dante was the end of three generations of tradition. Not because he wasn’t any good at construction, he was making his living at it, after all. But because he sucked at taking orders. And Frank Luciano was big on orders. The old man was probably dancing in fury, cast and all, over the fact that his worthless son was bailing his ass out. If his wife had even told him. Sylvia Luciano was big on keeping the peace.

“Don’t worry about it, though. I’m sure I’m experienced enough to handle just about anything you come up with,” he assured her.

ISABEL’S PULSE SKIPPED at the image of how Dante could handle things. She’d bet he could handle them just fine—and then some.

It was all she could do not to pinch herself. Dante Luciano, bad boy extraordinaire and hunk of her fantasies…here, in front of her. It was almost too much to accept. Was it a dream? A hangover-induced birthday fantasy in 3-D? Her mind whirled with possibilities, but it felt real. Her body’s reaction was definitely real.

But she’d already done her idiot impression for Dante, ten years before. Holding tight to the image of her humiliation, she vowed to keep it cool this round. If fate had brought him back into her life, she’d make the most of it. Lucky for her, she’d never even registered on his radar, so he didn’t remember her.

Excited—if deluded—triumph surged through her. This was her chance to meet him on even ground. Or as close as possible, all things considered. Sure, she might peek at the man while he worked, but she’d be damned if she’d blush and stammer when caught. After all, she was all grown up now, hardly an inexperienced sixteen-year-old good-girl.

“Yeah, but I’m talking about construction,” she corrected, proud of her offhand tone. He grinned in response. “I don’t suppose you have references or anything?”

“No references, but I’ve never had a single complaint.”

She slid an appreciative look over his body and gave a little hum. Years of hot, wet dreams flashed through her mind, all starring the man in front of her. She was sure complaints were the last thing he heard the morning after. Then, realizing what she’d done, her gaze flew back to his as color flooded her cheeks.

So much for not blushing.

Dante’s grin widened.

He moved through the open area that took up the front half of the house. Still under construction, it was one big, raw space. She watched as he inspected the wiring and plumbing.

“What’re you aiming for when this is done?” he asked.

“Sweet Scentsations will be one-stop gift shop,” she replied, glad to focus on her project instead of her wayward body’s reactions. “I’ll not only offer fresh cut flowers, bouquets and plants, but handmade candies made by a local chocolatier. There will be a small selection of gifts, cards and balloons.”

“Clever.” Dante quirked a brow. “Is Santa Vera big enough to support such a specialty shop? I’ve seen plenty of clever ideas fail in larger cities.”

“I’ve done the research. Santa Vera caters to its tourist population and over the last three years has created a solid niche as a wedding town. I wouldn’t have invested my entire capital into this shop if I didn’t have a plan to make it work.”

His eyes widened at the vehemence of her tone, but Isabel barely noticed. She was too busy tamping down the demons his question had stirred. Failure wasn’t a consideration. She had too much to prove, after all.

“That’d explain the plumbing,” was all he said, though. “What’s back that way?”

Still putting out the last embers of panic at the idea of failure, she followed him toward the storage rooms. Her gaze locked on the tight planes of his butt, highlighted in loving perfection by his worn jeans. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the soft denim, just there where it curved over his left cheek.

Focus, she reminded herself. Be professional. She pulled in a breath and folded her fingers together. She’d have plenty of time to pant after he left.

“This is where I want the storeroom and a small kitchen to make candies on site. I also want to add another cooler for the flowers, as well as a small greenhouse on the back of the building. Those are on the list of changes.”

She went on to describe the details of the job, when the walk-in refrigerator and appliances would be delivered and her timeline. At least, that’s what she hoped was coming out of her mouth. Because when Dante shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, she lost focus. She slid a quick glance over his clenched biceps, her eyes narrowing in heated desire.

Realizing she’d stopped mid-sentence, her gaze flew to his. Under the amusement dancing in his green eyes was a burning flame of interest. Oh, God. She was making a complete ass of herself. Again. This was completely unacceptable. He had to go so she could get control of her thoughts. There was no hope of controlling the lust that surged through her body, but she could at least keep it from being so obvious.

“I have the list in the office,” she finally said. “We can go over it now.”

Dante shook his head.

“I’ve been on the bike for a couple hours. I need to settle in and get a shower. How about you give me the list now, I’ll read it. I’m good at reading. If I have any questions, I’ll let you know.”

Good, he’d be gone sooner. The short trip to her office was used to lecture herself on the value of control and how stupid she’d feel if he knew how badly he affected her. Not even bothering with a file folder, she snagged the pages from the printer and clipped them together.

She stood there, her future clutched in her fists, her past looming like a testosterone-flexing reminder of how easy it was to lose one’s brain cells at the sight of the ultimate fantasy.

A taunting little voice in her head reminded her of the Man Plan she and Audra had created. Oh, sure, she’d wanted a man. Not just a man, but a man who could make all her hot, sexual fantasies a reality. And now one—not just any man but her ultimate fantasy man—was at her front door and what did she do?

Blush, stutter and hide in her office. Not okay. After all, number one on her list was control. Number two was not looking stupid. Isabel pressed her hand against her stomach, trying to calm her edgy nerves. He was just a man. Albeit her ideal man, but that was beside the point.

The question was, would she pursue the man?

Or hide?

She didn’t know yet. But for now, he was technically her employee. So she needed to get over her girly nerves and act like the professional she prided herself in being.

Pep talk in mind, she returned to the shop. Stopping a safe distance away, she thrust the handful of documents at him.

“I was starting to wonder if you were coming back,” he commented, taking the papers. His eyes widened at the thickness of the stack. “Damn, how many changes do you plan to make? And Frank had approved all these for your timeframe?”

“They’re all approved,” she said. She needed him to go. Now. Before the pep talk faded and she tried to lick him.

He glanced at the top sheet, his lower lip dropping a little at the bulleted list, prioritized and color-coded.

“Scary,” he breathed.

“They were already printed out and on my desk,” she said, ignoring his comment. “I’d intended to put them in a file folder and all, but you seem like you’re in a hurry and I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

He seemed to get her unspoken message, loud and clear. He winked. Then he tried to kill her.

He took her hand in his, smoothing his thumb over the sensitive flesh. One second turned to five as he held her gaze. Ten seconds and her smile dropped away. Her vision blurred and her body stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. Dante’s smile quirked.

It was that smile—almost a smirk, but not quite—that brought her back to sanity. She suddenly wanted to take his cocky self down a peg or two.

“Maybe I should let you in on a little secret,” she murmured, her words low and breathy. She was proud of that tone. Like she was about to tell him her deepest fantasies.

“I’d like to hear all your secrets,” he said as he lifted her hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, then rubbed them against his cheek.

Since they mostly featured him, she was sure he’d get a kick out of them. One thing about Dante Luciano, he wasn’t hurting in the ego department. He never had been.

“Let’s settle for just this one, hmm?” She turned her hand in his, then patted his cheek. “I’m the boss here, and I don’t think mixing business and pleasure is a good idea. But I’m sure if you take your hot and horny self down to the east side of town, you’re bound to meet up with some old friends. Or make new ones even. You’ll have no trouble finding yourself a good time.”

Apparently unoffended, Dante flashed a delighted grin. “I’m much more interested in a challenge,” he told her. “Like I said, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Why not make the most of it?”

“Thanks for the offer. But no thanks.” She laughed, actually amused. “Besides, I doubt we’ll be spending that much time together.”

“Why not? Scared?” He stepped closer. Close enough for her to smell the warm sunshine on his skin and the musky spice of his cologne. Close enough to see the tiny flecks of gold in his bottle-green eyes. Desire blurred her vision as flames of edgy wet heat flickered deep in her belly.

When Dante reached out and wrapped one of her inky curls around his index finger, it was all she could do not to whimper.

But she didn’t pull away. Hell, no, she wasn’t giving in like a namby-pamby good girl. Instead, she rolled her eyes and gave what she hoped was an amused sneer.

“Oh, please? Is that supposed to be a dare? Now what? I prove I’m not afraid to have you within lusting distance without throwing myself at you?”

“Lusting distance, huh? Why don’t we talk about that?”

“Why don’t we not.”

Dante laughed. “You know, I was looking forward to coming back to Santa Vera as much as I’d anticipate a prostate exam. But I have to admit, now I’m actually looking forward to my four-week stay in hell.”

TWENTY MINUTES later, Dante pulled out his key and unlocked the door to the motel. He hadn’t bothered to go by his parents’ house. He had, though, taken a quick trip around the property his boss wanted. Nice way to kill a few birds with one stone—help out his mom, piss off his dad and do his regular job at the same time.

Dante snickered and tossed the room key on the cheap dresser. Maybe he was still trouble? Hell, even the desk clerk had recognized him. And charged an extra two-hundred bucks deposit. Apparently she remembered his going-away party. Back in high school, he and some of his buddies had trashed three of the rooms, she’d been quick to remind him.

He shrugged off the irritation. He’d known he’d be judged if he came back. That’s how small towns were. Quick to blame, long to forget. And it wasn’t as if his reputation hadn’t been earned. He’d been hell on wheels as a teen and he hadn’t changed a whole lot since.

Sure, he had a steady job now. Ironically, despite his issues with his father, he’d taken the old man’s profession to heart. A troubleshooter for one of the largest construction firms on the West Coast, he didn’t lift a hammer much these days, but he was sure he hadn’t lost this touch. Instead, he spent his time traveling from site to site, handling everything from zoning to personnel issues.

Travelling thirty weeks out of the year kept him from boredom, as well as entanglement-free. Buddies to party with in the various towns he visited on Tremaine business, ladies satisfied with a few weeks here and there. It should be perfect. But lately, it’d been bugging him. He shrugged off the idea that his life was lonely; it was exactly how he wanted it.

Free, easy and unencumbered.

Every once in a while, his boss had him scout out properties to take over, since the guy had a weird desire to own pieces of the entire world. While the job gave Dante enough freedom to keep him from going crazy, the challenge was wearing off.

But other than a cushy bank account, a house on the beach and the Harley, he was still pretty much the same hell-raising no-good he’d been ten years before when his father told the sheriff to escort him out of town.

Dante sighed and looked around the plain motel room. Same ol’, same ol’. Living on the road was definitely losing its appeal. He unpacked his MP3 player and docking station, needing some unwind music. Before he could drop to the bed to see if it was as lumpy as it looked, his cell phone rang.

“Luciano,” he answered.

“Did you check out the property?” his boss asked on the other end. Luke Tremaine wasn’t a man to waste time with pleasantries.

“Yeah, I saw it. As luck would have it, it’s right across the street from the place I’m working on. Good location, nice lot. I’ll get inside in the next couple days, see what kind of shape it’s in.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Luke dismissed his comment. “We’ll raze it. From the reports, it’s one of those old-fashioned monstrosities. That won’t suit my purposes.”

Dante pulled a face. He could just imagine one of Tremaine’s signature, sleek chrome-and-glass dance clubs on Main Street. It’d stick out like a sore thumb. And piss off the townspeople like nobody’s business. Not his problem. His job was to scout, assess and report to Tremaine Construction.

“Don’t forget you’re still technically on the clock,” Tremaine reminded him. “Confirm the lot size and stats, then get me a report.”

With that, the phone went dead. Dante was about to toss it on the bed when it rang again.

A quick glance told him it was his mother. Dante grimaced, but didn’t answer this time. He needed to unwind before dealing with her questions and unspoken expectations. He’d take her to dinner, of course. Otherwise she’d be hurt. And not hurting his mother was one of the few rules Dante followed religiously.

But for now, he’d settle in. A quick shower, a nap, then he’d be ready to deal with the coming weeks.

The Santos job was the only major thing on his father’s schedule. A few other little jobs here and there, but nothing big. Dante’s focus would be on the intriguing Isabel’s renovations. Get those done, then he could leave, free and clear.

What was it about her that tugged at him? Other than her looks, she really wasn’t his type. Not that he liked to think of himself as being so predictable that he had a type. To him, all women were simply fascinating. But a man didn’t hover on the edge of thirty without learning a little caution around serious, sweet women.

And the vibe the woman in front of him put off was seriously sweet. Not uptight, but not on par with the hit-and-run sexual satisfaction he made his benchmark for involvement with a woman.

Dante grabbed the papers she’d given him, scanning her list. Damn, it was gonna be a lot of work. And the sweet Miss Santos was obviously planning on tracking him with a stopwatch.

Pacing off the irritated energy, Dante flipped to the last page. Hand written, numbered, with notes in the margins. Great, directions.

He focused on the words.

Oh, yeah baby.

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

Intense passion in a semi-public place.

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

Dante’s mouth went dry and the words blurred on the page as he pictured he and Isabel in each of those scenarios. Especially that last one. Fast, intense and a little rough got his juices flowing like nothing else. The idea of taking Isabel against a wall sent a bolt of heat straight to his dick.

Rock hard, Dante wondered how long it would take to get back to her house. Less than five minutes, he figured. Then again, given his present condition, he probably couldn’t even straddle the Harley without breaking a vital part of his anatomy.

He blinked and scanned the rest of the list. Any woman who could come up with fantasies this hot was a woman he wanted to get to know. Really, really well.

Looked like the lovely Miss Santos wasn’t so sweet after all.