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Does She Dare?
Does She Dare?

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Does She Dare?

Язык: Английский
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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.

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