Latin Lovers: Italian Husbands. Кейт Хьюит

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      She smiled, hoping her plan worked. “Thanks, Nick.”

      His grin was rueful at best. “Don’t thank me yet. You wrap this up, and quick.”

      “I can handle it,” she said again, straightening.

      “I wouldn’t do this for anyone else, Jill. Morgan is a good friend, but he’s got a serious problem.”

      Oh great, she thought and frowned. She was about to proposition a lunatic. “Problem?”

      Nick nodded. “Morgan’s the quintessential nice guy. He can’t say no to anyone in need.”

      Her frown quickly faded. She’d finally found a solution to her own problem, and in time to fly home to Homer, Illinois for her little sister’s wedding at the end of the month.

      Morgan Price needed a criminal lawyer.

      She needed a fiancé.

      And her intended was a guy who couldn’t say no.

      As far as she was concerned, it was a match made in heaven.

      MORGAN COULDN’T get those big sapphire eyes out of his mind. Or that honey-blond hair, swept up into a complicated style that he’d itched to touch and let slide through his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted so strongly to a woman. Especially one he didn’t know and doubted he’d ever see again.

      He strode through the doors of Price Construction, unable to shake the image of the blue-eyed angel from his mind. She was pretty, he thought, in a cute way. And damned if he couldn’t help wondering if she was petite and curvy or long and lithesome. About the only things he did know were there’d been no ring proclaiming her as another’s territory, and she’d certainly snagged his attention to the point of heavenly distraction.

      Morgan frowned. He had more immediate concerns. Like finding a lawyer for his employee. He’d been called out to another job site and had been in the neighborhood, so driving into downtown Los Angeles to see if his friend Nick could help, hadn’t been a complete waste of time.

      You’re wasting it now, thinking about a woman you’ll probably never see again.

      Sylvia, his all-around right arm, hung up the phone when he stopped in front of her desk. “Thank heavens you’re back,” she said, her usually calm voice tinged with exasperation.

      “What’s wrong now?” Morgan slid a stack of pink slips from the holder, forcing himself to concentrate on business instead of wondering if the angel had long hair that teased her waist.

      He flipped through the messages, frowning when he saw “urgent” marked on one from his sister, Raina. Right behind it was one from the business office of the college she attended. Fortunately, a check for her summer tuition and one for her dorm and living expenses had been mailed—something he’d finally taken care of that morning.

      Sylvia slipped her pencil behind her ear and looked up at him, her dark brown eyes filled with concern. “The superintendent on the MasCon job has called four times in the past three hours. The guys never came back after lunch, and Dan Castle is fuming, threatening to pull us off the job for good this time if there isn’t a stable crew on site first thing in the morning.”

      Morgan’s frown deepened. He didn’t need this, not with the huge bonus at stake that MasCon would pay if the job was completed early. Not only could he reward his men for all their hard work, but the extra cash would go a long way toward helping with his brother and sister’s college expenses. “Do you know where they are?”

      The frown tugging her peppery brows together expressed her own irritation. “They went to see if they could bail Eddie out of jail.”

      Morgan shoved his hand through his hair and blew out a stream of breath that did little to ebb his growing annoyance. “I told Steve this morning when he called that I was taking care of it.”

      “When Eddie didn’t show up for work by lunch, the guys decided to take matters into their own hands.” Sylvia shrugged. “I tried to talk them into waiting, but they feel responsible for what happened to Eddie last night and they wanted to help.”

      “Son of a—”

      The phone rang and Sylvia grabbed it. “Price Construction.” Her professional tone conveyed none of her earlier frustration. “Yes, Mr. Castle, he just arrived. One moment please.”

      She tapped the hold button and gave him a sympathetic grin. “It’s Dan Castle. Again.”

      For all of two seconds, Morgan thought about asking Sylvia to tell Castle the problem would be resolved immediately, but he’d never been one to shirk his responsibilities, and he wasn’t about to start now with something as important as the future of his company at stake.

      He nodded abruptly and crossed the open space to the small office in the back. Dropping into the chair behind his desk, he took in a deep breath and lifted the receiver, hoping he could placate the job superintendent enough to salvage his company’s reputation.

      “Hello, Dan,” he said, slipping a pen from the drawer. “I just found out about the crew, and I apologize. I’ll have the men on site first thing tomorrow.”

      “Because your guys left, we’re now a day and a half behind schedule,” Dan Castle roared into the phone. “How do you expect the ceiling crew to install grid or the electricians to do their job if I don’t have any walls for them to work with?”

      Morgan checked his watch and nearly groaned. It was after five, so offering to send a new crew was useless. “They’ll be there, Dan.”

      “They’d better be. I’ve got an uptight safety inspector threatening to red-tag the site because some cub installer wore tennis shoes to the job, and this guy’s coming back tomorrow. I don’t need this kind of aggravation, Price.”

      “Dan, I promise you, the men will be on the job tomorrow. Six o’clock sharp.” And he’d personally ensure they were up to every safety code in the book before they left the shop and headed out to the site. The last thing he needed was for his men to be responsible for a red-tag shutdown. “We’ll bring the job in on time. You have my word on it.”

      “Right now your word doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot,” Dan complained.

      Morgan cringed. MasCon was an important contract, not only because of the money he’d make on the current project, but he had a half-dozen more big jobs lined up with the general contractor, which would provide his men with steady work well into the following year. If they were pulled from the job and their future contracts canceled, word would spread that Price Construction was unreliable. That was something he couldn’t afford, especially with the construction industry in a major slump.

      “They’ll be there,” Morgan said. If he had to personally man the job, he’d do it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d put his tool belt back on to bring a job in on time.

      “They’d better be,” Dan threatened, “or don’t bother coming back. And for every day the job is in the hole, you can bet you’ll be hit with the penalties.”

      Before Morgan could offer a reply, the line went dead. He hung up the phone and scrubbed a hand down his face. God, he didn’t need this СКАЧАТЬ