Bachelor By Design: Bachelor By Design / Too Hot For Comfort. Kay David
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she was terrified her brother would do something crazy if he lost this opportunity. He’d been despondent ever since his fiancée broke up with him—frustrated with his job as a waiter and life in general. He wanted a challenge. Excitement. Riches. Lately, he’d even talked about following in their father’s footsteps. Ramon might not be the best waiter, or even a mediocre carpenter, but she knew for certain he’d make one hell of a lousy jewel thief. Which meant if she didn’t do something fast, another D’Onofrio would end up behind bars.
“Well,” Trace asked, breaking into her reverie, “why should I give your brother a second chance to dismember me?”
As she stared into his deep blue eyes, her stomach suddenly went all queasy on her. Trace Callahan was too self-absorbed, too stubborn, and much too handsome to understand how much this job meant to someone as sensitive and insecure as her brother. And she’d be damned if she was going to beg.
“Why?” She tipped up her chin. “Because I can make it worth your while.”
He leaned back in his chair and gave her a slow, insolent once-over. “What exactly are you offering, Miss D’Onofrio?”
“Myself.”
TRACE TIPPED so far back in his chair, he almost toppled over. He grabbed the edge of the table and pulled himself upright. This couldn’t be happening. One moment Kimberly announces she’s joining a convent, and the next moment a voluptuous, desirable woman sails into his condo and offers herself to him.
He must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Perhaps the trauma of his accident was finally getting to him. Although, if a minor injury induced this kind of fantasy, he was almost willing to give Ramon free access to all his power tools just to see what else might develop.
Almost.
Of course, this was no dream. Chloe D’Onofrio was sitting right in front of him. In the delectable flesh. His common sense told him he could never consent to such an agreement. His body, on the other hand, was entirely ready, willing and able.
He cleared his throat. “That’s an…intriguing proposition.”
She sat down in the empty chair. “I call it good business. Tit for tat.”
He closed his eyes, wishing she hadn’t used that particular phrase. When he opened them again, she was still there, sitting with one long, slender leg crossed over the other, her short skirt barely reaching mid-thigh. He’d never seen legs like hers before. They were true works of art. And he was a devoted connoisseur. He tore his gaze from her legs. “Are you sure you’re an interior designer?”
“Positive. And a damn good one, too. That’s the reason Madame Sophia hired me to redecorate Café Romeo.” She hesitated, then one corner of her mouth tipped up in a slow smile. “Or at least, one of the reasons.”
“Aunt Sophie hired you?” he asked, reeling with this latest revelation. He’d been after his aunt for weeks to hire an interior designer so he could consult with him on some of the remodeling plans for the café. Only the him turned out to be a her. And even worse, a D’Onofrio.
She nodded and opened that sensual mouth, but he interrupted her before she had a chance to elaborate.
“Wait a minute,” he said, as the rest of her words finally sank in. “What do you mean, one of the reasons? What other possible reason could there be?”
She arched one delicate brow. “You don’t know?”
A heavy, sinking sensation filled him, but he didn’t even want to consider that possibility. So he lied through his teeth. “No, I don’t have the faintest idea.”
She leaned toward him, her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “No idea at all?”
He shook his head, his throat dry. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was purposely tormenting him. But Chloe could have no idea of the effect she was having on him. Trace had always prided himself on maintaining the upper hand in all his relationships—especially the romantic ones. Perhaps Kimberly had resigned herself to life in a convent because he’d been too good at hiding his feelings.
She settled back in her chair. “You’re aware that your aunt reads coffee grounds?”
He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“What you don’t know is that she read my coffee grounds—and yours.” Her brown eyes flicked over him. “For some inexplicable reason, she thinks we’d be a perfect match.”
He groaned low in his throat as she confirmed his worst fears. “Impossible.”
“I quite agree.” She tucked an errant chestnut curl behind her ear. “Madame Sophia didn’t want to tell me about it at first, because she believes romance should take its natural course. But then…” Her voice trailed off.
He looked at her. “But then…what?”
“But then she saw how upset I was after I’d heard you’d fired Ramon. I believe I might have even called you a few unsavory names in the heat of the moment.”
“Such as?”
She blinked innocently at him. “I’m sure I don’t remember.”
He was sure she did, but he let her continue her story.
“Of course, that made Madame Sophia worry that I’d be prejudiced against you before we even met,” Chloe explained. “So she told me about the reading and how we’re destined to be together, and that fighting against destiny only makes the journey harder.”
He set his jaw. “I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
“Your aunt seems like a very determined woman.”
Determined was an understatement. She might not literally be able to move mountains, but she’d definitely caused a few avalanches in her time. If she was set on bringing Trace and this D’Onofrio woman together…He suppressed a shiver. He didn’t even want to think about the consequences.
Of course that same wily determination had saved his butt more than a few times. And one time in particular. If it wasn’t for Sophie, Trace might not even be here right now, ready to turn down Chloe D’Onofrio’s incredibly tempting offer.
She seemed nice enough, for a D’Onofrio. But it was appallingly obvious that she was completely wrong for him. He frowned up at her, mentally listing all her flaws. A sassy mouth. A killer body. A classically beautiful face. A quick temper, judging by the sparks he’d seen in her big brown eyes. And worst of all, a brother named Ramon.
He sat back in his chair with a sigh. No, Chloe wouldn’t even make it as a runner-up on his list for the perfect wife.
“Well, what do you say?” she asked. “Do we have a deal?”
Despite her obvious flaws, he found it harder to turn her down than he’d expected. “I’m flattered, Miss D’Onofrio….”
“Call me Chloe,” she reminded him.
“Chloe,” he echoed, mentally adding another flaw to the already long list. She had an annoying tendency to interrupt him when he was speaking. “I’m flattered, Chloe, by your very generous offer. I admire your loyalty to your brother and the lengths you’re willing to go to help him. But I’m afraid I can’t…”
“I’d do anything for Ramon,” she said, interrupting him once again. “Family is very important to me.”
“Me, too,” he muttered. Family loyalty rated very high on his list of wifely requirements. He’d seen firsthand how betrayal could tear a family apart. But one plus didn’t make up for all the glaring minuses that still tipped the scales against her.
“How important?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Exactly how important is your family to you?”
“What does