Does She Dare?

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.

3

“AT FIRST, I THOUGHT you were pulling some kind of prank,” Isabel said into her cell phone. She automatically glanced both ways before crossing the empty cobblestone street to the old-fashioned, brick-fronted town hall. “I mean, what’re the chances that we’re talking about Dante Luciano and the next morning he shows up at my doorstep on a Harley?”

“Definitely slim,” Audra agreed. “It’s kinda funny, though. And I’m sure he wasn’t nearly as hot as you remembered, right?”

Isabel didn’t bother to correct her. After all, admitting that actually talking to Dante Luciano in person was better than almost every sexual fantasy she’d ever had was a little pitiful.

“Did he remember you?” Audra asked.

“Hardly. I wasn’t the type to even register on his radar. I doubt Dante Luciano even remembers the night we met.” After all, he hadn’t done sweet girls. With a sigh, she realized he still probably didn’t. The question was, did she want to be sweet or not? Ten years ago, he’d scared the hell out of her.

Isabel recalled the way his eyes had slid over her body the day before. The delicious, welcoming heat of his appreciation had been blatantly clear. She shivered at the memory. Apparently she’d registered on his radar this time. And she definitely wasn’t scared.

“So I guess he’s not, you know, like a birthday wish come true, huh?” she asked, only half joking.

“No no, baby,” Audra said with a laugh. “You need training wheels first and a guy like that is bound to be as bad as that mean machine he rides. Way out of your league.”

Insulted, Isabel was tempted to defend herself. Hey, she wore big-girl panties; she could do the Man Plan. Then again, a guy like Dante was probably used to women who didn’t wear any panties. Who knew she’d reach the point of envying pantiless women and their experience? Just went to show what obsessing about sex could do to a gal. Not pretty, not pretty at all.

She sighed as she pulled open the door to the town hall. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got a business-association meeting in a few minutes.”

“Why? You’re not volunteering again, are you?”

Isabel winced.

“You are, aren’t you? Why do you do that? Don’t you have enough on your plate with starting a new business and trying to settle into a new town? C’mon, Isabel, quit with the do-gooder stuff and give yourself a break.”

Isabel puffed out a breath and tried to think of a way to defend herself. She wasn’t a do-gooder. She just wanted to fit in. To be a part of things. And since nobody ever invited her in, she volunteered.

“It’s not really volunteering,” she excused. “It’s the town planning council. They’re focused on controlled expansion, keeping the main street image intact, stuff like that. A lot of it is in preparation for the Sweetheart Festival in February.”

“What’s that?”

“To have a business on Main Street, you have to sign a contract agreeing to participate in the festival. They have a whole slew of requirements, but the promotion for the business is going to be phenomenal.”

It was all Isabel could do not to rub her hands together at the prospect. She’d been dreaming of this for years. She’d be an integral part of the town, the go-to girl for flowers and gifts.

“I want to make sure Sweet Scentsations’ placement in the festival is front and center. If I can, I’d like to provide the flowers for all the events, possibly even the gift baskets for the dignitaries. It’ll be a huge step for the business if I can pull it off. From what I understand, prime positioning like that is snapped up fast. Usually by council members.”

“Still sounds like volunteering to me,” Audra muttered. “But, whatever. Just don’t get crazy, okay? I’ve gotta go. Hey, check for hot-dude business owners while you’re in there. I’ll bet someone like that would work just fine for the Man Plan,” she advised with a laugh before she hung up.

Isabel wrinkled her nose at the phone, then tossed it into her bag. Settle for just some guy? After seeing Dante, feeling her body go into sexual overdrive, she didn’t want to settle. But Audra was the expert on all things sexual, and she obviously didn’t think Isabel could handle Dante.

Of course, a guy as hot, as gorgeous as Dante probably had his own list, or only got involved with women at his experience level. Which meant she was nowhere in the vicinity. Didn’t it figure, even within touching distance, he was still out of her reach.

TWO HOURS LATER, ISABEL stomped out of the hall, shoving her notepad into her purse. One of the reasons she’d been so excited to become involved with the business association was to take her place among the town’s business leaders. To prove herself and her main claim to fame—her planning skills. There had been ten leadership positions available, and conveniently, the association had ten attending members. But had they given one to each member? Hell, no. One guy was so special he’d be leading two committees. And her? She’d got diddly squat. Oh sure, her skills would be appreciated on any committee but they still didn’t trust her to lead.

She wanted to kick the lush fichus tree on her way out of the hall. The only reason she didn’t was the fact that the ceramic vase would probably break her toe. She should have thought of that when she’d delivered it the previous week as a show of appreciation and camaraderie for her new associates.

Associates, hell. She shoved the door open. Next time she’d deliver a cactus in a wicker pot. That way she could kick it as hard as she wanted, and hopefully it’d land on the council leader’s head.

“Isabel,” someone called out. “Wait up.”

She turned and bit back a sigh. Just what she needed, Mr. Perfect.

“Lance,” she said in greeting. His short blond hair ruffled, but didn’t muss in the brisk breeze. Even his haircut was perfect. Isabel swallowed her snarky attitude. It wasn’t Lance’s fault he was so together. She figured years of PR work as a real-estate agent had honed his persona until he was the epitome of together.

He gave her his patented smile, all friendly confidence.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he said in a low tone. Ever the multitasker, he kept his gaze on her face at the same time he nodded his greeting to a passerby.

Maybe that was why things hadn’t worked out between them. He’d never managed to focus solely on her. And he’d definitely never understood her. That had been obvious back in the meeting. Oh, sure, she knew he’d been trying to talk her up, give her support. But all that talk about new ideas, time for change and new blood had clearly put people’s backs up.

Isabel told herself it wasn’t Lance’s fault. Tension shifted across her shoulders, but she forced a pleasant look on her face. No point in getting upset or taking him to task. She’d done that once or twice before, but he was oblivious. To Lance, his way was the only way and anyone who didn’t agree simply needed his friendship and advice even more.

Being mad at him was like trying to be pissed at Mary Poppins. Pointless and frustrating. Because inevitably, he always felt he knew best.

“I wanted to talk with you about the meeting. You seemed a little disappointed.” He pulled a face and rubbed his hand on her shoulder. Isabel pulled away. For some reason his touch gave her the creeps now that they’d split up. Besides, it drove her nuts when people patted her like she was a little kid who needed placating. Small didn’t mean stupid, she wanted to yell. Of course, since that urge came with the urge to stick her tongue out at him, she didn’t figure he’d believe her.

“I didn’t realize, of course, that you might volunteer for any of the positions or I would have warned you,” he continued reasonably. “Santa Vera is growing rapidly, but at heart, it’s still a small town, and there are a lot of small-town attitudes that come with that. It’s not that you don’t fit in,” he said. Isabel supposed his tone was supposed to be soothing, but the way it grated down her spine made her want to scream. “It’s just a matter of time. People have to get used to you. To see what you have to offer. Give it time.”

Time? She’d been here for six months. How much time did they need, for crying out loud? Back in Auburn, she’d have led any committee she wanted. But of course, her parents had been well-known business owners.

She tried to shake off her irritation, knowing it was pointless. Too many times to count, she’d been frustrated in the face of his implacable fortitude.

“I think I’d be fine with the council’s expectations,” she said, trying to keep the pout off her lower lip. “I’m a successful businesswoman, after all. You could have mentioned that back there, you know. Your respect for my qualifications probably would have gone a long way with them.”

“Give yourself time. I’d advise you to volunteer to serve on one of the committees. You know, observe, learn the ins and outs of how we operate here. Give people a chance to see how efficient you are and to appreciate what you have to offer. In a couple years, they’ll be welcoming you as a committee leader.”

Isabel ground her teeth. It was like he was talking to a little kid. Was there not one person who believed she could jump in and excel? No wonder she had hang-ups with everyone who doubted her.

He reached over to pat her shoulder again, this time giving it a brief squeeze. “You’ll catch on. If you need help, feel free to give me a call.”

Isabel’s eyes narrowed as Lance turned and walked away, his gray pinstripe suit a vivid contrast to the other more casually dressed businesspeople milling around the hall. That was the second time today someone had intimated that she was in over her head. What was up with that? Was she really so incompetent that she couldn’t handle a simple committee role? Or a man like Dante Luciano?

She pursed her lips and sighed. Well…maybe Dante was a bit more than she’d thought she could handle before. But wasn’t that the purpose of the Man Plan? To push out of her comfort zone and have mind-blowing, awesome sex.

Not an easy thing to do when everyone seemed to have so little faith in her abilities on any level—be it business or sex.

LATE THAT AFTERNOON, Isabel arranged a winter bouquet of hothouse lilies.

Was it her? Did she come across as incapable of running with the big dogs? Sweet little Isabel, why don’t you go read a book instead of trying to ride that skate-board? Oh, Isabel, don’t be silly, you don’t know enough people to win as class president; you’d just be hurt if you tried. Sweetheart, quit daydreaming. Pull your head out of the clouds and set goals, instead.

All her life, she’d been pigeonholed. Protected. Because everyone expected it—hell, demanded it—she’d played it safe, in life and with her goals. Even this business, as much as she had emotionally invested in it, was a well-calculated risk. And now that she wanted to break out of the box? Expand herself, reach for the stars? What did she get? Naysayers and doubt.

Just once, she’d like have someone expect huge things from her, that she be better than good enough. She wanted to be an integral part of something. Always, she was the outsider looking in, the quiet one in the back of the room. Ignored. God, she was sick of being ignored.

Her movements sharp and abrupt, she snapped the stem completely off one flower. With a little growl, she tossed it at the garbage can. It hit the rim, bounced off and slid back across the floor to land at her feet.

“Damn,” she muttered.

“You don’t seem like a happy camper,” a voice said over Nickelback’s “Photograph.”

Isabel gave a little shriek worthy of any horror-film starlet, breaking yet another of the fragile flowers and sending the vase tottering at the edge of her worktable.

“Hey,” Dante said, suddenly at her side. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Before her mind could acknowledge who had scared the crap out of her, he reached around her to steady the wobbly vase. With the push of two fingers, he moved it to the center of the table, then gave her a long, questioning look from those deep green eyes. Her body tensed as excitement swirled through her system. Her fingers shook. Ignoring the part of her yelling liar liar, she blamed the nerves fluttering in her stomach on the scare.

“You okay? I didn’t take you for the high-strung type or I would have announced myself.”

Isabel’s heart skittered. She wasn’t sure if it was from surprise, or from Dante’s proximity. But when it didn’t settle, she figured the credit went to him.