Does She Dare?. Tawny Weber
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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.
Because if anyone deserved it, he definitely did. Making a show of straightening the flowers she’d scattered, she cast a glance over him. From the tips of his beat-up work boots to the strong expanse of his shoulders, he was even sexier today than he’d been swinging off the Harley the day before.
His green eyes had that same slumberous look that made her insides melt. But instead of damp waves like the other day, his hair was a sexy, just-out-of-bed tumble to the collar of his forest-green T-shirt. Her fingers slid along the smooth stem of the flowers, imagining how that silky hair would feel in her hands. On her belly. Brushing along the sensitive skin of her thighs.
Isabel caught her breath at the image. Oh, God, he was gorgeous. She was too aroused to even be embarrassed at her thoughts.
“I’m fine,” she belatedly answered on a puff of breath. “I didn’t hear you come in, is all. I’m so used to working alone back here, I didn’t think to turn down the music to listen for the door.”
His slow grin assured her that yes, indeed, she was babbling. Isabel sucked in a deep breath and set the last flower in its space, then faced him, chin held high.
“I’m not high-strung, but I was startled. Thanks for saving the vase.” She gestured to the large glass urn. “It’s the last one I have in inventory and I’d hate to disappoint my client.”
“Since I hate being disappointed, I can definitely understand that,” he said, a wicked light twinkling in his eyes. It guaranteed he never left a woman disappointed, either. A flickering spark of desire flamed deep in her belly.
A man who guaranteed satisfaction? One who’d spend as much time as she liked, do all those deliciously wild things she dreamed of? In the past, all her fantasies of Dante had been of the things she wanted to do to him. The way she wanted to worship his body, to see it poised under hers. But now…his words spurred a whole new fantasy and in it, he was the one doing all the work.
“I wanted to get started tomorrow morning,” he continued, oblivious to the mental pleasure he was giving her. “I figured I’d check to see what supplies were on hand. We should go over some stuff, too. Schedules, the list…that kind of thing.”
The way his voice deepened, his eyes growing dark and sleepy, when he said that last part, sent Isabel’s system into overdrive. Her nipples beaded painfully beneath the light sweater she wore as the damp heat moved from her belly to her panties.
It’d been a long six weeks since she and Lance had split. Not that she couldn’t go without sex for a long time, but the sex she’d been getting prior to the split hadn’t been anything to celebrate. She was sure that was why her body went crazy over the innocent statement. Dante obviously wasn’t implying anything sexual.
Now if she could just get her body to believe that.
“It must be nice to visit home,” she babbled, trying to distract her body. “I grew up over in Auburn, only ten miles away, but it’s like a different world here. The people have been really welcoming. Since you’re from here, if you have any ideas for the renovations please feel free to share. I’m all for using whatever I can to make the business better.”
“I doubt any of my insight into the town will improve your business,” he said. Isabel frowned at the tension, almost an underlying anger, in his tone. She gave him a searching look, but he just returned a long, blank stare. It didn’t answer any questions, but it did stir her juices again. Holy cow, even with that stoic look on his face, the guy was hot.
“I didn’t realize you were already open for business,” he commented with a gesture to the floral arrangement.
“I’m not, really. At least, not to the general public. I do have a clientele from my previous floral shop I’m still serving. It seemed smart to hold on to as many existing customers as I could, you know? A lot easier than trying to tackle the goal of making this new business fly high immediately. Baby steps, small goals, all that.”
Dante shrugged, the muscles in his biceps rippling in a way that made Isabel want to nibble on him. Just there, on the arm, to see if he was as hard as he looked. If he tasted as good as she imagined.
“Why bother with little steps?” He narrowed his eyes, a wicked glint flashing in the green depths. He took one step, then two, closer. Close enough for her to smell the spicy scent of his cologne, to feel the heady heat of his body. Her own body reacted instantly, heartbeat racing as nerves battled desire in her belly. A distant memory flashed through her mind, clouded by time, wine and fear. She’d been this close to him once, that night at his party. This time, though, she knew what to do.
His voice dropped to a husky tone suited to dark nights and silk sheets. “If you want something, go for it. You might not get it the first time, but it beats pussyfooting around—playing it safe.”
“You don’t think it’s smarter to take the big steps in areas you’re good at, and smaller ones in the unknown?” she asked in a breathless tone.
“How do you get to be any good if you don’t take a chance?” Dante shrugged again, so close she could almost feel the movement of his body. “If you want something, make it happen. Otherwise, while you’re sitting there wishing, someone else will grab the ball and run with it.” He looked around the storeroom, then gestured to the photo display of her floral arrangements and the healthy houseplants thriving in the windowsill.
“You’re clearly good at what you do. You seem like a smart woman…” His gaze drifted down her body, a sensual caress of appreciation. “And definitely a beautiful one. Why wouldn’t you go for whatever you want?”
It was like he’d ripped the lock off her inhibitions, giving her permission to ask for anything she wanted. He clearly believed she could reach for the stars. Power, indelibly combined with deep swirls of desire, simmered in her belly.
“Did you ever make a birthday wish?” she asked, her gaze locked on his lips. They were so close, and she’d bet anything they tasted fabulous. She wanted to taste them, test their texture. To run her tongue over the pouty fullness of his lower lip and tempt him into wild desire.
Isabel’s breath shuddered at the image.
“Like blow out a candle and think about something you want? Sure,” he said, his voice a low murmur. The sexy purr washed over her, wrapping her in a shivery kind of excitement. “Why?”