Of Love and Deception (3 page)

One-thirty pm. She couldn’t be late. That would be bad business. It would take approximately fifteen minutes to get to his house if she drove the legal limit, a task nearly impossible.

 Daniella took a sharp right and entered ‘Quails,’ Cruz Canton’s neighborhood. Large brick houses rose like fortresses from verdant well-trimmed lawns.

“Damn impressive lifestyle you have, Mr. Canton.” She gathered Cruz had money, like most of the clients requesting service at Designer’s Inc.

Countless times she rehearsed what she would say when he answered the door.
Good lord, it’s just a business deal. Nothing new, not a date.
Daniella inhaled and exhaled repeatedly as she rolled into Cruz’s driveway.

Before stepping out of the car, Daniella examined the brilliant reddish-brown maple and oak trees. The length of the front lawn was edged with colorful ornaments of tall decorative grasses, flowers, and plants that were neatly manicured. Not a single shrub was without a perfectly square or rounded pattern. “Hmm. Very nice. The landscape is tastefully done.”

Daniella fumbled with her keys and tossed them into her purse. When she exited the car, her knees buckled.
Dammit. What is wrong with me? Get it together.
This man drove her nuts, turning her into a moronic fool, a bundle of nerves, and she couldn’t pinpoint what it was or why. GQ men never stirred her up or drove her to this level of anxiety.

Knock on the door or ring the doorbell?
She did a quick sweep through her wavy hair and knocked on the door.

No answer.

Three more knocks.

No answer.

She rang the doorbell.

Nothing.

Three minutes passed and still no response.
Okay. Maybe one or two minutes passed, but it feels like ten. And I feel like a fool!

Daniella knocked and rang the doorbell, and knocked and rang the doorbell again.

Nobody answered.

“Screw this.” She flipped around and headed back to her car. “He said two pm. Guess he’s a real bullshitter. He’s probably pissed because I didn’t acknowledge his hitting on me,” Daniella mumbled. “Jerk-off. As—”

“What was that?” Cruz strolled around from the side of his house.

Crap. Now what? Good going, dummy.

She met his eyes; his beautiful blue eyes hinted he’d heard her exact words.

“Sorry. I take it all back. I was quick to assume you ditched me, wasted my time on purpose.” Her cheeks burned ten degrees hotter.
Dang. Please tell me he didn’t hear me mention him hitting on me.

“Which part?”

“What?”
Oh hell no!

Cruz’s brows arched. “Which part are you sorry for?”

Daniella hesitated. “Um. Hmm.”

“Ah. I see. You’re not really sorry. You think I’m a
jerk-off
and an
ass
. Or were you going to call me an asshole?” A grin played on his lips and a dimple formed on his left cheek, adding to his charming good looks.

You’ve already blown it. Damage is done. What the heck. Just spit it out.
“Probably both. Ass. Asshole. Pretty much the same thing.” She rubbed her temple and reached for the door handle.

“Wait!”

“For what?”

“For what? Aren’t you Daniella Kurtz... interior designer with Designers, Inc.?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

She shot her best eye roll. “Uh… Duh.”

“Okay, smart ass. I am officially here. Two o’clock sharp. You’re here for a reason. Would that be for the contract? Or is it because you like my attention—hits, attraction, desire, or however you’d like to put it? Maybe I am a bullshitter. Maybe not. You decide.” He advanced a few steps toward her and tilted his head, as if studying her.

What could she say? Daniella wanted nothing more than to be a speck of dirt at that moment. Embarrassed? No, she sulked in humiliation. Breaking free from his stare, she rolled her eyes and gazed at the front of his house. “Mm,” she muttered.

“Mm,” he mocked her.

A splash of cold droplets splattered against the skin of her neck. “Whaa—why you... you—”

“Asshole?” He chuckled and aimed the hose at her.

Daniella placed her left hand on her hip and stomped her foot. “Don’t you dare do that again.”

He lifted the hose and feigned to squirt her.

“NO. No, no. You’re not that. You’re a great guy! I’m the asshole. Don’t—” Daniella raised her arms, portfolio, purse and all, to protect her head.

He laughed and flipped the hose toward the street, shooting water at the landscape along the edges of the sidewalk.

“Jumpy girl.” His laugh fading, Cruz twirled the hose around his forearm and shut off the spigot. He returned to find Daniella hadn’t budged.

She clutched her portfolio and samples, seething, while waiting for him to return.

Cruz waved his hand, motioning her to come on over. “Well? Are we going to get busy here?”

He held the front door and waved her in.

Daniellla fumbled with her bag of samples, folders and portfolio case.

“I’ll take that.” Cruz’s hand slipped next to hers and grasped the handle of the case. She stared at his grinning face and after hesitating, released her grip and let him take it.

“Which room would you like to start with first?” Daniella asked, trying to sound calm and collected.

“How about the bedroom—I mean living room?”

She met his gaze. Normally, she’d be turned off by such a comment, but not this time. Not with this superb male animal in prime condition.
O-M-G. What am I doing? Where did all of my morality go? Just stop it. Stop now, mind of mine! Think pure thoughts, think pure thoughts, think pure thoughts! Sheesh.

“The living room it is.” Cruz went into the kitchen and opened the portfolio, displaying it on an emptied counter space. “Are you coming... or looking for the bedroom?”

“You’re quite the jokester, Mr. Canton.” Daniella managed to break away from her warped thoughts of Cruz and found her ‘moral’ self.

“Please. Don’t call me Mr. Canton. It makes me feel like an old man.” He gave her a wink.

“I see. And I suppose Cruz makes you feel like a young stud—a teen at heart, or a playboy?” She pursed her lips tight and forced the laughter tainting the back of her throat to stay put, not daring to look at him.

“Whaa? Ewe-hew-hew!” He stepped to her side, nudged her with his hip, and continued to do so until she turned to face him.

Daniella peered up to observe his expression. He must have towered three to four-inches above her five-foot seven—five-eight with heels—height. “What? Did I say something wrong? Offensive?”

One side of his mouth tilted as he backed her against the wall. With a hand planted on either side of her head, he leaned forward. “I’m no teen. I’ve been all of those things you mentioned, but there is nothing about me that screams ‘teen.’”

The grin faded, and his gaze turned sultry.

“No?” Her heart fluttered. He was too close, and she could feel his body heat radiating through her own tingling skin.

“No.” Cruz’s lips curled and his brows arched. He closed in, lips almost touching hers. “When you’re woman enough to find out, let me know.”

His tongue slid crosswise over her lips, and he stepped back before she could respond.
Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... do it now!

The second he turned away, Daniella ran her tongue over her lips.
Dang, he’s yummy!
She collected her thoughts. “Woman enough, huh. We’ll see about that... Cruz.”
We’ll see about that. Mm.

Working with Cruz Canton might be dangerous, but she was willing to take that risk. Heck, she was already aboard.

He’s nothing like Blake. Blake who?

Wanting to appear composed, she wiped all the negative thoughts—
Blake
—out of her head and focused on her job.
And Cruz.

She swept the portfolio open and spread the designs onto the kitchen table. For the next twenty minutes, she helped him visualize the designs and he appeared pleased. Walking to the wall, she asked Cruz to hold up some of the molding while she taped different color samples of wall paint next to it.

Cruz obliged. Standing behind her, pressing his chest against her back, he held a piece of molding, centering it just below her shoulders.

“How about here?” His breath hit the back of her ear and she shuddered.

“Um, well—”

“Or here?” He slipped his hands further down the wall, breast level to be exact, toward her waist. He had her locked in the middle of his arms.

“Hmm?”

“I like it right about here.” He suggested pleasure.

“Sure,” Daniella hastily agreed and slipped from under his arms. “Wherever you like it.”

She crouched down toward the floor, refusing to acknowledge his seductive behavior. It wasn’t because she disliked him, quite the opposite, and that scared the crap out of her.

After she set the master plan in place, Daniella picked up the scraps, gathered her things and rested against the counter. “What a day.”

She was tired, but not from working. She’d experienced an adrenaline rush every time he’d been too close.

Cruz placed a hand over hers. “Stay. Have dinner with me.”

Daniella examined his face. His look pleaded with sincerity. “Well—”

“Please?” His eyes widened, brows lifted, and the sexiest smile stretched across his lips. “Maybe have a glass of wine. Go for a walk, or we could just sit out on the deck and get to know each other. On a friendship level.”

How could she say no to him? His eyes were liquid pools of lusty passion.
Okay! He’s just too damn sexy!
Dare she stay? Decisions, decisions.

4
-
Mr. Seduction

Daniella walked as insouciantly as she could to her car. She didn't want to seem eager to stay.

“Am I that bad?” Cruz asked. He kept at her side and carried the bag of samples to her car.

“Nah. You’re not
that
bad.”

He pushed the kitbag into the trunk. “Then why won’t you stay?”

 “What?” She blinked.

 “Stay. If just for an hour or two.” Cruz pulled the trunk down and leaned forward. He stroked her fingers. “You have beautiful hands.”

 “Uh. Thanks?” Her skin tingled at his touch. What the hell was he trying to do?

 “Beautiful hands... smooth, soft, no wedding ring.” He lifted his gaze.

 Daniella was certain her eyes were popped open when her jaw dropped. She clinched her lips and swallowed. “What’s your point? I’m not married, so?”

 “So, say you’ll stay for a while. You’ll have dinner with me. You’ll have a glass of wine, go for a walk, hang out on the deck... tell me you’re not leaving already.”

What she would give to capture his face at this very moment.
But no. He. Is. A. Client.
She buckled her libido and shrugged. “Are you a loser? Don’t you have any friends, girlfriends, gay friends—”   

He snatched his hand back. “What? Did you really just ask me if I had any gay friends? Do I look like I would?”

“Touchy, touchy. I didn’t imply you might be gay, just including them in the circle of friends. You have a problem with gays or lesbians?” She proceeded with her charade.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m a lesbian. Do you still want me to stay for a while... get to know you on a friendship level?”

She sucked her lower lip under her upper teeth, hoping he wouldn't
really
believe her.

“Uh. Sure.” He stirred and raised his right foot, placing it against his left calf and used it to scratch his leg.

Daniella sensed his discomfort. “Bullshitter.”

Cruz took a step closer. “What? What do you mean?”

“Bullshitter. You told me I could make that call, remember?” She licked her lips and smiled.

He took another step forward. “I did, did I?”

“Indeed, you did.” She itched to move backward, but stayed put.

“Since you're a lesbian, you won't mind hanging out with me. Let's knock down a few beers, stretch our legs and watch the game. If indeed you are what you say you are?”  He looked into her eyes with a you're-so-full-of-shit look.

“Am I?”

He snatched her hand and coaxed her toward the house. She let him drag her inside before she let out a belly laugh.

Before she could regain control of herself, Cruz flipped her around to face him and he pressed her against the wall. He stared deep into her eyes.

“What are—” she whispered, but Cruz touched the tip of his nose to hers. The scent of his minty-fresh breath and cologne stirred her insides like mixing fuel and fire. His hot lips greeted hers, and he gazed at her steadily while gently sucking in her lower lip.

A short breath later, his tongue slipped between her parted lips. He stroked her back, his hands trailing fire that spread to delight and ignite much deeper desires.

Daniella wanted to reach up and press her hands against his chest, but she held back.
Lord, what am I doing? Ugh!
He pulled back, and grinned. Deviously grinned.

The alarm on her face must have been evident. He winked and said, “You’re definitely not.”

“Not? Not what?” What was he implying?

“But you are.” His eyebrows shifted, one after the other.

“I’m not what? But I am? What the heck?” She stepped uncomfortably side to side.

He leaned into her, slid his hand along her jaw then grasped her chin and turned her head to the side. Pressing his lips against her ear, he whispered, “You’re definitely not a lesbian. Yummy.”

The warmth of his breath and the seductive aura surrounding him sent a surge of flutters down her belly. She inhaled, slowly releasing the stimulating effects and said, “Uh, no.”

“Uh, yes. You little bullshitter. I knew there was something I liked about you. And that kiss… Mmm.” He slid his tongue across his upper lip.

Dang! I wish he'd quit with the sexual innuendos.
She shivered and stepped away.

“Shall we dine out or have something delivered?”

“Hmm. What would we do while waiting for the delivery?” Daniella placed a finger against her lips and tapped.

Cruz’s eyes turned to slits, and he impishly grinned. “Whatever your little heart desires.”

Oh no. Absolutely not. Dirty dances in his eyes, trouble lurks in his tone, he’s totally not shy...
Do I trust him? No. Do I trust myself?