Hold On to Me (6 page)

Beautiful and stubborn. Brilliant, he thought. ‘I don't think you know what you're letting yourself in for.'

‘With all due respect—' she started.

Luca tried not to grin. He liked that expression: it usually meant there wasn't any.

Stella pushed her hair away from her face. ‘I know what I'm doing. All I need from you is a quote for the building work—not business advice or career counselling. Got it? Think you can rustle up an inspection report as well as those references?'

‘Wait a minute—'

‘And I need to know that you can start immediately.' Stella met his eyes, unblinking.

Yeah, because he didn't have his own home to renovate. Of course he spent his life waiting around for fancy boutiques owned by beautiful women to be almost gutted so he could hop in his truck, drive down to the middle of nowhere and summon his cast of magical tradies and supplies, just like one of those reality home makeover shows. Could he do this job? Abso-fricking-lutely. Did he need this job? A prickly and demanding client, an hour and a half from his home in the city, a small fiddly job? Nooooo. Anna would kill him, but he decided he didn't need the aggravation.

‘I think you might do better—'

‘Stella?'

They both turned. A man in a navy suit and silver tie was in the doorway. He cast suspicious eyes at Luca.

‘Hi, Duncan,' Stella said with a sigh and, if Luca wasn't mistaken, a little eye roll before she stepped sideways and turned to greet The Suit.

‘What's going on here?'

‘I'm getting on with business, Duncan, that's what's going on.' She turned and waved a hand in Luca's direction. ‘This is Luca Morelli from Morelli Constructions.'

‘G'day,' Luca said.

‘Luca, this is Duncan McNamee. He has an office up the road.'

‘Hello.' The Suit didn't step forward to shake Luca's hand, but stood in the doorway and peered inside like he was worried he'd dirty up his leather shoes. ‘I see you've been busy already.'

‘Yes. I mentioned yesterday I wanted this place fixed up as soon as humanly possible.'

‘Here's a warning from someone who's dealt with builders before, Stella. Don't go with the first quote you get. You should really aim for three so you don't get ripped off. Some of these construction guys can be real shonks.' He hadn't even bothered to lower his voice.

Stella turned to Luca, and there was another eye roll, out of Duncan's line of sight.

‘No offence,' Duncan clarified, holding up his hands.

‘Don't mind me,' Luca said, shrugging.

‘There's not that much work to be done, is there? Shouldn't take more than a week. Keep that in mind when you're assessing the quotes, Stella.'

Luca looked down at his work boots, smiled to himself. Everyone was a freaking expert. Thanks once again, reality TV.

‘Yes, thank you, Duncan. That's good advice. Uncalled-for advice, but good nevertheless. We really must get back to it. Thanks so much for stopping by.'

The Suit was such a dick he clearly didn't get Stella's tone. Luca could read it loud and clear and that awareness suddenly had him smiling.

Duncan straightened his tie. ‘I'll see you tonight?'

Stella hesitated, checked for a watch on her wrist, which, Luca noticed, was bare. ‘Look, I don't know how long I'll be here and I'll probably be exhausted by the time I get home. Can we take a raincheck?'

‘Of course.' The Suit took two steps to Stella and leant down to kiss her on the cheek. When he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, Luca averted his eyes, took another look at the stone wall exposed under the damaged plaster. When he looked up, The Suit had gone. Stella was swiping her mouth with the back of her hand and then she grabbed her shovel. She looked like she wanted to hit something—or someone—with it.

She quickly glanced at Luca as she stomped back into the shop. ‘Sorry about that. The three-quotes bullshit.'

He shrugged. ‘Hey, don't worry about it.'

Stella leant the shovel against the damaged plasterwork on one wall and walked to the spot where he was standing, right in the middle of the shop, exactly where the light from the brilliant southern sky was beaming down through the hole in the roof. The warm sun spotlit her: glowed on her face, shone down into her smile and bounced off her hair. That's when he noticed the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the laugh lines at the edges of her plump lips. They stood there, in the light, looking at each other for a long moment.

‘You were about to say something before? Something about … you think I might do better …?' Stella waved her hands, trying to conjure the words from him. He was grateful for the reminder because he'd lost his train of thought.

Then he remembered. He'd been about to tell her he couldn't do the job. For all the right reasons, it didn't seem like a good fit. His own reno, the size, the travel, her stubbornness. But the words wouldn't come. He tore his eyes from hers and looked around the space again, trying to imagine what they could do with it. There was so much potential there. They could do so much more than return it to its former life. It could be transformed into a landmark. He walked over to the southern wall, picked at the damaged plasterwork and it flaked off in his fingers. The stone underneath was sturdy and the render looked to be intact. Luca felt something swelling inside him, something he never felt when he was building a pergola or a deck or a pool house. They were good jobs and kept him in business, and he was grateful for every customer. But there was something different here.

He turned to Stella and wondered if she noticed his idiotic smile. There was history and magic here, and a future. He could feel it tingling his fingertips and thumping in his chest.

‘I was about to say …'

And it wasn't just the bricks and mortar that had captured his imagination. There was something intriguing about Stella. She was so sure of what she wanted and exactly how she was going to get it. He could work with a woman like her. He could learn a lot from a woman like her, with her experience and her ideas.

‘Will you get me that quote?' Her voice had softened. It wasn't a demand any more, a suspicious question thrown at him because she was wary. It sounded—and felt—more like an invitation.

‘I'll get you everything you need. Give me an hour here to look around, take some measurements and some photos, and then I need to get some quotes, source some supplies. Talk to a sparky, a plumber, some other trades.'

‘Great.'

She stared up at him. He could see her brain ticking over, deciding if she could work with him. He'd get her all the paperwork she needed to prove his bona fides, but their working relationship had to be built on trust. He could see she was figuring out whether she could trust him. Being Anna's brother scored him some bonus points, he knew that. On the flip side, he was young, just starting out. She didn't know anything else about him other than he was a Morelli.

‘I'll do all that work, prep you a quote, the whole box and dice. I'll project manage it for you.' And then, just for fun, he added, ‘You can get on with worrying about your dresses and your shoes and your jewellery and I'll handle all this.'

Was that steam coming out of her ears?

‘Hold on one minute. If you think—'

He lifted his hands in surrender. ‘Joking.'

‘You'd better be.'

‘I know exactly who's boss around here.'

‘And don't forget it.'

‘But there is one thing. I have one condition.' Luca crossed his arms again, needing to keep them occupied.

‘What's that? Smoko at a regular hour? Double time on a Sunday?'

‘I won't put up with armchair fucking experts. Excuse my Italian.'

‘I know what I'm doing,' she fumed again.

‘Not you, Boss. The Suit.'

She took a minute. ‘You mean
Duncan
?'

‘Is he going to be around a lot while we get this work done?'

‘Shit, I hope not.'

‘Good.'

‘Well.' Stella looked down to the floor. ‘I don't have a minute to lose. I'd better get back to work.'

‘I'll get to work, too.' Luca pulled his notebook out of his breast pocket and she glanced at his chest. Checking him out again. Something swelled in his male ego.

‘Stella, even before we agree on anything, you really have to get the window glazed and the door fixed. You want to secure the site so you don't get kids wandering in and causing trouble.'

She stepped back, pursed her lips. ‘I know. I've called a glazier already.'

‘And?'

‘And I'm waiting for his quote so I can send it to the insurance company.'

Luca shook his head. ‘Leave it to me.' He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

‘No, I won't leave it to you.'

There was a fierceness in her voice that unsettled him. ‘Hang on—'

‘I've got that organised,' she added through gritted teeth.

‘Clearly you don't ‘cos he's not here and he hasn't got back to you. I can do this with one call.'

Stella propped her balled fists on her hips. Okay. He looked at her curves, checked out her arse. She was a woman. A hot one. And he was a man.

‘I have this under control,' she insisted.

‘You've got plenty of other things to do. I've got this.'

She was silent.

‘Stella.'

She looked at him. She was steaming.

‘Listen. It's no big deal. I have a good guy. I trust him. I'll pay for it now and you can pay me when your insurance comes through, okay?'

Stella glared at him. It seemed to take her a very long time to agree. ‘Okay. But I want those references.' She picked up her shovel and got back to work.

Stella was trying very hard not to be distracted by the stubborn and now silent Morelli Constructions. He was snapping photos on his phone, taking measurements and making notes; so totally focussed on his task that he didn't even glance in her direction. She continued to scoop up the muck and mess all around her, loading bucket after bucket into the skip out on the street.

If they were going to work together, Stella knew she had to define the rules early. She was the boss and he was the builder. The cautious, serious businesswoman Stella, who'd been burnt before, had asked for references. He'd seemed a little taken aback, but she needed to do things by the book.

However, there was another Stella: the one who was all woman. The one who hadn't had sex in too long to think about. That Stella was staring at him like he was a rock star and she was a teenage girl.

How could she not notice how gorgeous he was?

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting until he was distracted or deep in thought so he wouldn't notice her admiration. She fought the unprecedented urge to reach out and stroke his Mediterranean, olive-skinned smoothness and watched how his muscled arms moved in interesting ways as he worked. And it wasn't just his arms. She lowered her gaze to his legs and noticed a curve to his calf muscles that was really quite hot. And the regulation young-guy three-day growth on his chin looked stylish and rough all at the same time. Dark eyes were shadowed by dark eyebrows, and a straight nose drew attention to his perfect, full lips. And as to what was under the work clothes? Taller than her, by at least a head, and lean. Strong. Flat-stomached, judging by the way his polo shirt was tucked into his shorts.

Oh, he was a picture, there was no doubt about that: young, fresh and unrumpled. Stella figured he was perhaps in his late twenties but, whatever the number was, it was clearly the age at which men reached peak physical perfection. In fact, he appeared to have summited that very morning.

Stella propped her shovel up against the wall and reached for her bottle of water. Shovelling was thirsty work. That had to be the reason her mouth was dry. She unscrewed the bottle slowly, watching Luca as he peered up into the hole in the ceiling. He lifted a hand to shield the sun from his eyes and the move did something nice to the width of his shoulders. She let herself enjoy the flitter of attraction she was feeling for Luca Morelli. A flitter? Who was she kidding? It was more like a flock of seagulls had landed in her chest and were thumping inside her rib cage, trying to break free.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with appreciating beauty. Her business was based on it. She loved knowing that her customers walked out feeling much more beautiful than when they'd walked in. It didn't have to be much. Perhaps it was the way a pair of earrings caught someone's attention or how the colour of a silk scarf could bring out a customer's eyes. Sometimes a drapey top with a boat neck could make even the most self-conscious person feel sexy. While beauty was in the eye of the beholder—fashion had taught her that—most people appreciated things that gave them pleasure.

And she found handsome men quite pleasurable.

Stella tilted her head back and drank from her water bottle. She swallowed over and over, savouring the way the chilled water slid down her gullet and cooled her from the inside. A drizzle of water had escaped her lips and slipped down her chin onto her décolletage. She wiped it away with outstretched fingers and looked up: she was being watched.

Luca didn't seem to care about being caught out. He raised his eyebrows and smiled. Stella wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled right back.

‘Sorry, that was rude of me. I didn't offer you anything,' she said, and there was a tease in her slightly breathless voice that she hadn't intended.

Will you listen to yourself ?
she chided. But oh, it was fun. ‘Water? Coffee?'

‘I'm good,' he said, his voice low and husky.

Oh, you most definitely are, she thought with a slow glance up and down his tall frame. What was it about this young man that had her acting this way, flirting with him? God, she
was
flirting. Something she hadn't done in a long, long time.