Does She Dare?. Tawny Weber

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      She ran her finger down the page.

      Rules:

      1 Take control.

      2 No second-guessing or backing out.

      3 No falling in love.

      Steps:

      Find the perfect guy—check credentials.

      Feel him out—or up. Make sure the spark is there.

      Take the list in order; build up the tension.

      Set a time limit. Two weeks is ideal affair length.

      Cut him loose. Remember rule three.

      Fantasies:

      Hot, sexy kiss—make me melt.

      Slow, sexy dance. Get a feel for the moves.

      Hot, wild and a little rough up against the wall.

      Intense passion in a semi-public place.

      Pure romance-novel sex. Complete with a ride on a white horse along the beach.

      A smorgasbord of sexual pleasure, complete with whipped cream, strawberries and lots of decadent chocolate.

      Water play, shower, bath, hot tub. Something with pulsating heat.

      Tied up and crazy—for extra spice, add a dollop of chocolate.

      Isabel snickered. Right. Like she had time for something like this. Maybe after she’d opened the shop. Or later, once Sweet Scentsations had wowed the town and made its niche. There wasn’t any deadline on the Man Plan.

      Regardless, she couldn’t worry about it now. She simply had too much to do. Tearing the pages from her notebook, she tossed them on the corner of her desk with a smirk.

      Her priority right now was the renovations. With the click of her mouse, she pulled up the phone number and dialed the home of her balance-challenged contractor.

      “Mrs. Luciano? Hi, it’s Isabel Santos. I’m calling to see how Mr. Luciano is doing and if my job might be back on schedule soon?”

      The sweet older lady launched into a description of the extent of the fracture, the 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. СКАЧАТЬ