Does She Dare?. Tawny Weber
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extent of Mr. Luciano’s displeasure with his confinement, and their worries about losing business.
With a wince, Isabel crossed “get out of contract and hire a new contractor” off her tentative plans.
“Do you have any idea of a timeframe?” she asked, wishing she were the hard-as-nails type who’d insist they meet the original deadlines.
“I found someone to step in,” Mrs. Luciano assured her. “He’s a wonderful carpenter. Actually one of Frank’s best, although lord knows the man won’t admit it.”
Isabel listened with half an ear while she clicked her mouse, synced her revised to-do list with her task list and updated her renovation plan.
“He said he’d go directly there,” Mrs. Luciano continued, “He wanted to look over the job first. Afterwards I’ll get him the paperwork.”
“I have a copy of the work schedule and renovation outline here,” Isabel told her. “Why don’t I just print it out for him? That’ll save a few steps.”
“Wonderful idea. That’ll keep Frank from knowing—I mean, from having to wake up and do it himself. The more rest he gets, the better, you know.”
Isabel frowned. Had she missed something?
“Mr. Luciano is okay with this substitution, isn’t he?”
“This is fine. Perfect, even. Don’t you worry. Luciano Construction promises the best, and more important, the best on time. Your renovations will be fabulous and I’m sure we’ll be back on track, time-wise, quite soon.”
Magic words to Isabel’s ears. With a relieved smile, she said her goodbyes and, with the click of the mouse, sent the schedule and outline to her printer.
Two seconds later she cursed. The printer made another loud cracking screech. Paper jam. Again. She tugged the stuck, then ripped paper out of the machine, tossing the bits in the trash. Hit print. Nothing but another grind. She sighed and bent down to find the jam.
A minute later, Isabel jumped back in shock as the machine started spewing pages before she could get the paper-guide back in place. Grabbing the printed sheets before they hit the floor, she tossed them on the corner of the desk, fit the guide in place, then shoved the stack from her desk under the still-printing pages.
Spying the first page of her Man Plan on the floor, she grabbed the sheet of paper. Before she could find the second page, a loud roaring outside ricocheted in painful volume through the room. Thunder? Isabel pressed a hand to her aching head as the sound throbbed all the way through her body. She moved to the window just in time to see a huge Harley pull up to the curb. With a flick of his wrist, the rider killed the ignition. Silence followed, and she wasn’t sure how she knew, but Isabel was sure that in the few seconds he sat there, the guy had taken in every aspect of the house and property.
Wow. Hot, sexy and delivered right to her doorstep? Isabel grinned. Almost like a fantasy? Or better yet, a birthday joke from her best friend. Would Audra send a hot dude to say hi? She snickered. She wouldn’t put it past her. After all, Isabel had made a Man Plan. Audra was bound to tease her about it. Too amused not to go check things out, she moved away from the window.
Anxious to see what kind of guy her birthday wish had conjured up, Isabel opened the front door and stepped out into the cool morning air on her wide, wraparound porch.
Even hidden by his helmet and black leather jacket, he was clearly a man used to making grown women drool. Amusement replaced by sudden lust, Isabel swallowed, glad her mouth was too dry to humiliate her.
Eyeing him as he swung his leg over the bike to stand tall on the sidewalk, she descended the front steps.
Lust was fleeting, she assured herself. Man Plan or not, it had all been a joke. A crazy idea spurred on by too much wine. She’d get over it. Even as she recalled the sexual fantasies she’d concocted, she realized this guy wasn’t for her. He was too much. Too sexy, too tough, too damned big. Too everything. Images of just how big he might be flashed through her mind. Isabel’s breath shuddered out and she waved a hand over her face to stir some cooling air.
The guy unzipped his jacket, the sound loud in the quiet afternoon street. Isabel watched, mesmerized, as he slid well-muscled arms from the sleek leather.
After tossing the jacket across the seat, he took off his helmet. Isabel’s breath whooshed out at the sight.
Black hair curled in damp waves to his collar, surrounding a face meant for sin. A slash of cheekbones and strong chin were the perfect frame for intense green eyes.
She eyed his mouth, the half-assed smirk assuring her he was trouble waiting for an invitation.
An invitation she was tempted to issue. Her list of sexual fantasies played out in Technicolor in her imagination. Each and every one starring the hottest guy she’d ever lusted after.
Dante Luciano, bad boy extraordinaire.
Isabel’s heart stopped. Impossible, yet there he was. There was no way Audra could have pulled this off as a joke. At least, not this quickly.
She took a visual inventory. Long, hard and sexy. Drool-worthy, as a matter of fact. A pierced ear, tribal tattoo on his bicep, and a black T-shirt molded over a chest that looked like it was carved from stone. Amazing! He’d actually improved with age. She hadn’t thought it possible.
“How’re you doing?” he asked. Even his words were sexy. Low and husky, there was an underlying something in his voice that made her stomach clench. It was like teetering at the top of a roller coaster, knowing one tiny push and you’d plummet. Dark, dangerous but oh-so-tempting.
She swallowed, trying to find her own voice.
“Fine, thanks,” she answered after clearing her throat.
Irritated with herself when her pulse wouldn’t steady, Isabel lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders to look taller. His gaze held hers for a brief second, then dropped to her breasts. Her breath caught. Isabel knew she was modestly covered. Her silk T draped more than hugged, barely showing any cleavage. Even so, his gaze felt like a caress. Soft, knowing, purely sexual. Heat curled deep in her belly.
“Two-eighty-five Main Street. Sweet Scentsations, right? I’m Dante Luciano. Luciano Construction.” His gaze slid back up her features, appreciation clear in those hypnotic eyes as he met her wide-eyed stare. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I hear you’ve got a list for me to take care of?”
2
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