Hold On to Me (9 page)

And stabbing at a heart so broken she was sure it would ache for the rest of her life.

‘Look at the window.' He angled his head towards the newly installed glass.

‘Yeah. What about it? It's a window.' Stella glanced over her shoulder at it. Its polished and sparkling surface dazzled in the morning sunlight.

‘What about it?' Luca repeated, incredulous. ‘It's first thing in the morning and it's fixed. Down here, in the middle of fucking nowhere. Uncle Tony got up at the crack of dawn and drove all the way down from Adelaide because I asked him to do me a favour. I do the same for him when he needs me. I trust my relatives with my life—of course I trust them with my clients.'

Stella felt a sharp pang in her breastbone and turned away from Luca. She might not have family at all, let alone family she could trust, but she'd be damned if she was going to let him see the look on her face. She didn't want him to know how much his words had unknowingly cut her.

‘All right,' she said quietly. When she lifted her eyes from the footpath, she could see her reflection in the newly installed window as well as his. They were both silent and still. She looked small beside him, even though she'd always thought of herself as tall. When Luca moved, uncrossed his arms and took a step towards the window, she held her breath. A skitter of nerves lit up her spine and her throat tightened. She had to get out of there. ‘I'll … I'm going to grab another coffee. You want another double?'

‘Yeah, thanks.'

Stella walked off down the street.

By the time Stella returned, Luca was up in the roof space. He'd set up his ladder in the middle of the shop, where the light was still streaming in, and was checking out the trusses and the roof frames.

He could smell the coffee below before he heard her voice.

‘I'm up here.'

He heard the rungs of his ladder squeaking. He looked down from the truss where he'd perched himself. Stella was almost at the top of the ladder, proffering his coffee.

‘What the—? Are you crazy? Get down!' He heard the agitation in his own voice. He couldn't help it. He was wearing a hard hat and steel-capped boots. She was wearing … What the hell was she wearing? Luca glanced down at her and, from his position, got a good eyeful of her breasts, barely covered by her sleeveless top. Her denim shorts, cut off just above her knees, hugged her hips and arse. He cast his eyes to what was left of the ceiling.

‘You should not be on a construction site. Your clothing does not comply with health and safety requirements.'

He glanced down and then averted his eyes again. Her breasts alone were a health hazard. To
his
health, that is.

Stella looked down at her clothes. ‘I didn't expect to be climbing ladders. I'm just trying to give you a coffee. Calm down.'

‘Calm down?' His voice grew louder and echoed in the shop and throughout the roof. ‘I'll calm down when you're off the ladder.'

She muttered something he couldn't quite make out—although he got her intent—and when he heard her the thud of her shoes on the floor, he carefully took each step down to the ground.

Stella looked sheepish, and while he felt like an arsehole for growling at her, safety wasn't a joke and building sites could be dangerous. He lowered his gaze past her breasts and hips to her legs and then to her feet. She was dressed for cleaning her house, not for this kind of work.

He propped his hands on his hips, let out a deep sigh. ‘I suggest you get yourself some proper safety shoes.'

Stella wiggled her toes in her sneakers. ‘These are fine.'

‘Not fine. You want to crush a toe? If you're planning to be around while I pull this place apart and put it back together, get some steel-capped shoes. Not negotiable.'

Stella harrumphed as she handed him the coffee. ‘Well, I
am
planning to be around so I guess I'd better get some. I'll do whatever I can do to save money on this project.'

‘And you also want to keep an eye on me, right?'

She rolled her eyes. ‘Something like that.'

Luca swallowed the strong brew in one gulp and then flicked the takeaway container into the corner of the room. It didn't even hit the spot. All the caffeine in the world couldn't distract him from the tension that was building in his head and in his shorts. This woman was starting to drive him crazy.

‘So tell me, Morelli Constructions. What were you doing up there in the roof, anyway? I thought you checked it all out when you were here yesterday?'

‘I did,' he said, relieved to be talking about the job again and not thinking about her breasts. Who was he kidding? He was still thinking about her breasts. ‘The trusses are all in good condition—wet but not damaged. The ceiling will have to come out and be replaced with new Gyprock. But I was up there because I had an idea about something last night and I wanted to check it out.'

If he thought Stella might be interested in the new idea bit, he was wrong. She crossed her arms and looked defensive and shitty.

‘Don't look at me like that,' he said with a shake of his head.

‘Like what?' she replied, her mouth serious and frustration evident in her eyes.

‘I saw the way you rolled your eyes when The Suit tried to tell you what do to. You put me in the same category as him and I'm walking.'

Stella grimaced. ‘I didn't—'

‘Yes, you did.'

She huffed. ‘He means well.'

‘Bullshit he does. Look, Stella. I get that you're the client. I know you're the boss. But I have ideas too.'

She regarded him curiously. ‘Okay, Morelli Constructions. Like what?'

He smiled, reached forward and took Stella's hand.

Stella didn't have to look down at the place where her fingers were touching Luca's. She could feel it in every nerve ending in her body. The hair on the back of her neck prickled with awareness. Which was entirely ridiculous but fantastic at the same time.

‘Come and check this out.' Luca pulled her to the centre of the shop, right to the spot where the outside light shone in. He looked up through the ceiling to the sky and she let her eyes drift from the logo on his shirt, to the curve of his chest revealed by the V of his collar, slowly up his tanned neck, where cords of muscle were outlined, to his shadowed jaw.

‘See this?'

Her gaze finally met the light. ‘What? That big hole in the roof?'

She noticed he hadn't let go of her hand. When she lowered her eyes, slowly, from the light shining on his black hair, to his dark eyes, he was looking at her too.

‘Why don't we make it a permanent feature? When we replace the ceiling, I could build a big skylight, right here. Look around, Stella. See how it casts light and space around the whole shop?' His grip on her hand tightened as he spoke and Stella felt her pulse begin to jump. ‘In summer you could put a table here, create a display with all your best stuff, and it'll be sure to catch everyone's eye as they walk in. And, bonus, it'll catch the winter light and save you some on your power bills.'

In the blink of an eye, his idea came to life in her head, exactly as he'd described it. A round, white table right in the spot they were standing. Her most beautiful silk scarves. Glass earrings and rings. Vases that would catch the light and refract it like a kaleidoscope around the shop. A stunning leather handbag. A summer hat.

She slipped her hand out of Luca's, stepped back. Something strange was going on. Life had taught her the hard way that she couldn't trust people. She'd never consulted anyone else before about anything to do with this business. She'd trusted her own design skills to make this the best boutique on the south coast and it had been. It still was, she corrected herself. But here was this man, with an idea that wasn't about him, but what was best for her business. Inexplicably, he seemed to be as passionate about hers as his own.

‘What do you think, Boss?'

Stella felt a warmth flood her. It rose up from her toes, tingled her thighs, fluttered her stomach and found its way out of her mouth.

‘I wouldn't want the stock to fade in the extra UV,' she said slowly, stalling as long as she could.

‘We can get treated glass, no dramas,' he said.

‘Then that sounds incredible,' she said and before she could censor herself, she took two steps to him, reached up on her tiptoes and planted a smacking kiss on his cheek. The sound of her lips on his face echoed all around them and when she pulled back, her heart racing and her breath tight in her chest, she registered the shock in his eyes. So she kissed his other cheek for good measure. Because it was the Italian thing to do. And because, holy hell, she liked the way his three-day growth grazed her lips and she especially liked how it seemed to throw him off his game.

‘Yeah, I think so.' Was that a smile or confusion?

‘You are a genius,' Stella said, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as she laughed. And then Luca's hands were on her hips, firmly holding her close to him. She could smell the coffee on his breath and his spicy cologne. His dark eyes were hot as they burnt into her and she felt like she was melting from the inside out.

Put the young man down.

Stella covered his hands with hers and lifted them away. She took a deep breath to cool things down before she spontaneously combusted. She figured there had been enough fire in her life for a thousand lifetimes.

‘So, Boy Wonder, when does this genius idea begin?'

Luca shook his head. ‘What did you just call me?'

‘Well, you
are
young.' Stella had to know, had to get an answer to the question that she'd been obsessing over since she first heard his voice on her voicemail.

‘It's all relative.' He took a step closer. ‘How old are you?'

Stella swallowed, took a step back. ‘Thirty-five.' She tried not to stumble on the number. She could own it. ‘I'm thirty-five.'

Luca looked her up and down. ‘I'm twenty-nine.'

His age had a two in front of it. ‘Well, look at you. You
are
a Boy Wonder.'

He took another step towards her. ‘I'm all man, Stella.'

Damn right he was. This time she didn't step back. This could be the last time she was up so close and personal with the delectable Luca Morelli and she wanted to drink in every detail of him. The way he was looking at her would fuel her night-time fantasies, so she wanted to get it right. What was she thinking? This would be fuelling her night-time, daytime, breakfast, lunch and dinnertime fantasies for a long time to come.

Exactly how did she feel being this close to Luca Morelli?

What did it feel like to have a younger man—any man—look at her the way he did?

For the first time in too many years, Stella felt lit up by a spotlight, just like the brilliant sunlight shining down into her shop through the hole in the roof. Every hair stood on end at the nearness of him, at the exquisite knowledge that a younger man was looking at her the way he was. Even if he was teasing, he was doing a pretty damn good impression of being attracted to her and, while it was somewhere she would never go, it was intoxicating.

She breathed deeply and heard his words again in her head.
I'm all man, Stella.

‘I think you should call me Boss. It'll help keep things clear between us.'

He rubbed a hand over his hair. ‘Okay,
Boss
.'

Her insides twisted. She hoped she didn't have to pay him extra for the charm.

Because there wasn't enough money in the world for that.

Luca lifted a new wooden door he'd bought from the local hardware store off the back of his HiLux and leant it against the front wall of Stella's shop. The original had swelled from water damage so he screwed it off its hinges, swearing to himself in Italian.

So Stella was six years older than him.

He didn't give a flying fuck. She seemed to think it was important by pointing it out, calling him Boy Wonder, but he didn't. He wanted her and, judging by the way she'd looked at him just now, the way she'd flirted with him, he was pretty damn sure she wanted him too. He knew that look in a woman's eyes: he got it a lot. It wasn't big-noting. It was the truth. He was a young, not-ugly single man and in the world he lived in that made him hot property. He was rolled out at every Italian christening, wedding, engagement and funeral as ‘the very successful businessman Luca Morelli'. And that was just by his parents.

And he'd had women in his life before, but not one of them had him going nuts like Stella Ryan did. Fuck, he'd only known her for three days and already he wanted her in his bed. Or to get into hers, whichever was closer. Hers was definitely closer.

From his position at the front door, he looked back at Stella. She was sweeping the floor with great energy, gathering all the debris that was left into a pile in the middle of the room. She did everything at full intensity. Judging by the way she was dragging the bristles across the floor, he'd be able to eat off it before long. She was sweeping with the same single-mindedness she was bringing to the renovation. Luca liked that about her. That's why he'd postponed his own renovation to come down to the beach and do this job for her. And yeah, he could have said no, even if it meant being on the receiving end of his sister Anna's evil eye. And some kind of lifelong retribution.

But he hadn't said no. There was something about Stella that drew him in the first moment he met her.

He looked away but had to glance back one more time. Her eyes were cast down to the pile of dirt she was collecting and all that sweeping was jiggling her perfect arse and her breasts. He reacted like any man would and tried to think of something, anything other than her. It was impossible when she was ten feet from him. Her fingers were tightly gripped around the broom handle, and he remembered holding her hand, how soft it was in his. When he'd dragged her into the spotlight, he'd almost lost control, almost just leant down and kissed her. She knew it and had pulled away. She wanted to keep things clear between them, to make sure he understood that she was the boss. And fair enough. They were saving her business, her livelihood—and she wanted to get it right.