Excitement slowed her step as she took it all in, then she took a deep breath of the lumber-scented air…and fell in love. Now
this
, this was a candy store.
Felicity hurried to catch up as Daniel disappeared around a corner. Luckily his tall, broad-shouldered physique made him stand out amongst the Saturday-morning crowd milling around.
As she came up beside him, she tugged on his sleeve. “Can we see what they’re doing over there?”
Daniel glanced over at the demonstration taking place. “Sure.” Indulgence curved his mouth and she felt an answering warmth flutter in her stomach.
Felicity turned away from that look, that smile, but she couldn’t get away from his hand that landed lightly on her back, guiding her forward. Heat radiated from his touch, spreading outward along her limbs.
It was almost impossible to concentrate on the expert’s instructions with Daniel standing behind her. She moved slightly to the right, his hand moved to her hip. She stepped forward, his hand came to rest on her shoulder.
She kept fidgeting until Daniel leaned forward and spoke low in her ear, “If you’re really interested in this, we’re doing some tile work at one of the job sites. I could pick you up one day and bring you by.”
Felicity swung her head around. This close to him, she noticed the gold-dusted tips of his darker lashes. “Really?”
“Really.”
She watched his lips, inches from her own, shape the word and felt his breath like a kiss.
Abruptly, Felicity faced front again and took a deep calming breath. But images of a bare-chested, tool-belted Daniel kept dancing through her head.
Will you get real!
Felicity could almost hear Cheryl’s no-nonsense voice. She blinked, and the vision of some fat guy with plumber’s bum—oily pimples, hairs and all—lumbered into her imagination. Her pulse slowed some.
“That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Do I look like a guy who’s looking for trouble?” he asked dryly. To her relief he straightened and moved back to guide her through the crush of bodies. “Let’s go find that showerhead.”
They came to the selection of bathroom accessories and Daniel picked a box from the shelf.
“Master Stroke 2000, flexible spray nozzle, three-way adjustable head.” He paused, looking up with a decidedly wicked glint in his eyes. “How about it, you interested in a three way?”
“No thank you.” Blushing, she pointed to another model. “This one looks fine.”
He moved closer and the faint scent of citrus that emanated from him became stronger.
“Hmmm
…adjustable spray prohibits calcium buildup.” He shook his head. “Naw”, then his interest shifted to a different package. “Maybe…The Invigorator?”
Bending forward he noted the various features. “‘You never dreamed water could do this before.
Enjoy the total satisfaction
of phenomenal power at work.’” He glanced at her and her nipples power-constricted into two tingling vortexes of phenomenal pleasure. Felicity mouth-breathed as Daniel continued.
“‘Your body will be revitalized by the
warm, sensual, pulsating
spray—’”
“I don’t need my body revitalized, thank you. Just clean. Here, I’ll take this one.” She grabbed another model. It didn’t matter which one. Daniel didn’t even touch the box.
“‘Eco-friendly, low-flow ceramic valving’,” he read the specs off in a monotone. “
Borrring
.”
“Look, I like boring, and energy efficient and-and…”
“Liar.” His voice dipped. “You don’t like boring. Not with that mouth,” he said baldly, barbecuing her on the spot with the heat in his gaze.
Before she could catch her breath he switched gears on her again, his mouth curling in mischief. “So you wouldn’t—” he looked down at the package he held, “‘—
enjoy a deep, throbbing, fully satisfying massage to all the key areas of your body
’
?
”
“Throbbing?” she sputtered, very aware of the parts of her that fit that description right now.
He raised his eyebrows innocently.
“The head is extra large.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll take it!” Felicity shoved the package into his arms. He was obviously determined to continue along this vein.
As they went around to pick up a few other items, she found herself smiling. She liked his teasing, almost as much as she liked him intense and bent on seduction.
Although “like” seemed a wishy-washy way to describe what she felt when he focused his molten green gaze on her. Her smile disappeared.
Suddenly she was crazy with awareness of his large presence beside her, brushing against her with every other step and the peek-a-boo whiffs of his cologne that tantalized her. She had to get away.
As they neared the cash registers the rich aroma of coffee wafting through the air offered her perfect excuse.
“I’ll be back in a second.” She didn’t wait for his answer before beating a hasty retreat for the snack bar.
While Daniel paid for the purchases, she bought two coffees, then met up with him at the exit. She offered him one of the cups. “Black?”
“Thanks. How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” She pulled some sugar packets and creamers from her pocket with an impish grin.
Deep down inside, though, she had a glow of satisfaction. How could she explain the odd times she’d found herself thinking he would like a certain type of food, or music or that his favorite color was— “Blue?”
“Blue?”
“Your favorite color. You look like a blue type of guy.”
His smiled hitched her heartbeat. “That’s my second favorite.” He started walking.
Feeling a little disappointed and foolish, she couldn’t help asking, “So what is your first?”
“Gray. Silvery, like lake-water on a cloudy day.”
She made a face.
Color me shades of depression. Oh please
.
The drive back home was a repeat of the drive over, only this time with Billie Holiday singing variations on his second favorite color all the way.
They turned onto Southview Blvd. As they drove under the leafy canopy of mature trees a sense of security softly cloaked her. That it was all the sweeter because she was with Daniel didn’t bear closer inspection.
He pulled into the driveway, parked, then reached into the back seat. Without thinking, she turned also, coffee in hand.
He swung around again with the shopping bag.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Pure reflex made her jerk back against the door, extending her arm as far away from her own body as possible.
Which, coincidentally, happened to be in the vicinity of
right-smack-damn
over Daniel’s body.
The cup came to life in her hand, bouncing off each finger in mid-air, then coffee——black, two sugars——splashed down in a steaming waterfall.
“Son of a bitch!” Daniel reared back, dropping the bag, hands in the air. “Awh, fuck!”
She watched in horror as the dark brown stains blossomed on his shirt and khakis.
“Daniel, I’m so sorry.”
Felicity fumbled in her pocket for some napkins she’d taken from the coffee kiosk. The two crumpled specimens she pulled out were pathetic, but she attempted to sop up some of the damage anyway.
Daniel clamped her wrist in an iron grip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he ground out between clenched teeth.
She froze under his glare. “The coffee stain—I was just trying to help.”
“Don’t. Help.” He shifted gingerly in his seat, grimacing. “Jesus,” he said in an almost tortured whisper.
Felicity looked down at his lap and comprehension dawned.
“Oh.”
A romantic game of chicken—and they’re both too stubborn to flinch.
Dare to Love
© 2008 Jaci Burton
Lucy Fairchild, lawyer and heiress to the Fairchild fortune, has just had the worst day of her life. Her father has found the perfect man for her to marry. Yes, she’s thirty and single, but that doesn’t give her father the right to run her life. She’ll choose her own husband—someday.
Jake Dalton is struggling to make his fledgling construction company a success. Ever mindful of his father’s derogatory comments that he’d never amount to anything, he’s spent his entire life trying to prove he’s not a failure.
From their first meeting on a construction site, verbal sparks fly. Their argument escalates into a dare for a date—and the game is on. Lucy thinks Jake is the perfect fake boyfriend to parade around in the hopes of getting her father off her back. Jake is amused by the chance to annoy both Lucy and her dad—he doesn’t intend to take the dating thing seriously.
But the heart is a fickle thing, and not above playing dirty. In their quest to prove something—to each other, or maybe to themselves—they find themselves building a case…for love.
And suddenly all the rules have changed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Dare to Love
:
Lucy glanced at the grandfather clock in the front hallway and wrung her hands, mentally reviewing the speech she’d planned to give Jake when he showed up.
She wasn’t going out with him. Making that date with him today had been a huge mistake, and one she chalked up to a mind too preoccupied by her father’s notion of marrying her off. She hadn’t had her wits about her and stupidly agreed to a date she now had no intention of keeping.
It would be a waste of both their time. They had nothing in common, and she had too many other things on her mind to dally with a construction worker. No matter how sexy said construction worker was.
She tamped down butterflies that felt like the San Francisco 49ers defensive line ramming the wall of her stomach. How silly. As a courtroom lawyer, she had argued plenty of cases in front of a judge, jury and audience. The guys at the law firm referred to her as Fearless Fairchild.
So why was she nervous about giving the brush-off to one man? Why was she relentlessly pacing the front hall, scuffing her tennis shoes against the polished marble entryway? And why had she dressed this way, in a pair of dark jeans, a white pullover sweater and tennis shoes? This wasn’t her usual clothing choice for a first date.
A date she had no intention of going on.
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, then turned into the library and flopped into one of the burgundy leather chairs next to the fireplace. The scents of wood oil, old books and her father’s cherry pipe always calmed her.
She lifted her feet and propped them on the matching ottoman, tapping her fingers against the well-cushioned arm of the chair. The library was one of her favorite rooms. Not only did it house all the classic books she’d loved to read as a child, but its dark, heavy paneling and scattering of comfortable chairs reminded her of her college literature department’s main hall.
She’d spent hours in there, reading and doing homework, always feeling a sense of home in the room. Plus, she’d loved the discussions they’d held there. From Chaucer to Shakespeare to the poetry of Keats and Thomas, she’d inhaled the classics.
But she’d only minored in English. Her major had been pre law, where she was, in her father’s often repeated words,
destined to follow in her family’s footsteps and continue the great works of her ancestors, the Fairchilds
.
Her father’s lecture still rung in her ears after all these years. Duty. Family. Law.
At times like this Lucy wished her mother hadn’t died when she was only six. Sometimes she yearned to have someone she could talk girl things with. She certainly couldn’t bring her personal problems to her father. She could only imagine the horrified look on her father’s face should she ever ask him for dating advice.
She sighed. At least her turmoil over family and business had momentarily taken her mind off preparing her summary rejection of Jake Dalton.
The doorbell rang and her gaze shot to the mantle clock. She was impressed that he was actually on time. She rose, dreading the way she was going to hurt his feelings, but knowing it was a necessity.
Lucy rounded the corner and gasped. Wonderful. Her father had gotten to the door first and was currently engaged in conversation with Jake. Like she needed this complication. She could have sworn her father said he had a late meeting this evening. What an unexpected and unpleasant surprise.
“I’m certain you must have the wrong house.” Raymond Fairchild stood stiffly at the door, no doubt mere seconds away from slamming it in Jake’s face.
“Not the wrong house,” Jake said. “Lucy wrote it on her card.”
She peeked around the library doorway and spied Jake handing her business card to her father, a wicked smile on his face. Jake wore jeans—nice, dark clean ones, and a polo shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and showed off his biceps. She sucked in a breath and let it out again on a sigh. What an incredibly handsome man.
“I don’t care where you say you got this card, young man. My daughter has a fiancé and she is not, I repeat, not, going out with you tonight, tomorrow, or ever.”
In typical Raymond Fairchild fashion, her father made to shut the door on Jake. Lucy surged past her momentary frozen state.
“Wait!” She flew out of the library and slid across the slick tiles, coming to a stop next to her father.
Graceful, thy name is not Lucy Fairchild.
How embarrassing.
Raymond peered down at her over his glasses, his blue eyes sharp as ever despite the fact he was now sixty-four years old. His formerly dark hair had turned white, which just made him look more elegant and refined than he had when he was younger.
She’d loved and worshiped him for as long as she had memories. But right now he irritated the heck out of her.
“I do
not
have a fiancé, Father.” She glared at him before turning her gaze to Jake. “I’m sorry, Jake. My father didn’t know you were coming. Please, come in.”
When her father didn’t budge, she backed against him and gave him a slight nudge with her hip before opening the door wide for Jake to step in.
“Thanks.” Jake swept a look from her father to her, then grinned.
Amused, was he? Well, she didn’t find this entire, awkward situation humorous at all.