Tempted In The City

“I got it.”

Luca was staring and not eating. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Tony stared back at his brother. He swore to God, sometimes he wished he had sisters instead. “What?”

“Why are you... You like her.”

“Yeah.” Tony switched his focus to eating his overcooked broccoli. “I like her. She’s nice.”

Dom turned away from the waitress, who was already making eyes at him. “So if she’s not Italian, maybe she wants a little Italian in her, huh?”

“Nice,” Tony said. “Real nice. You’d better start going to Mass with Nonna. You’ll never finish confessing your sins if you live to be a hundred.”

Both his brothers laughed, and then still looking at Dom, Tony added, “By the way, she remembered Luca’s name but she couldn’t remember yours.”

Luca elbowed his younger brother. “Must be losing your touch, hotshot.”

Dom’s look of disbelief was almost comical.

Luca said, “By the way, how’s Rita?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Look, Catherine’s interesting, okay?”

“I’d changed the subject already,” Luca said, grinning. “But if you want to talk about Catherine, then yeah, she’s very attractive, in her own way. But a little aloof. You know what I mean?”

“No, actually, I don’t. She’s very—”

Luca smiled at him.

“Shut up and eat your fish.”

Dom took a bite of his T-bone, but still said, “Hell, she’s got to be loaded to buy that house and do all those renovations. Maybe she’s an heiress or something.”

“Dad mentioned she works at the UN,” Luca said. “As an interpreter or something like that.”

Tony shrugged, ready to drop the topic of Catherine Fox. Yeah, he’d thought a lot about her in the last couple days. And she wasn’t off-putting or anything like that. He could see why someone might get the wrong impression, but only because of the way she moved. She stood and sat like a ballet dancer, or a model or something. Smooth as silk.

He couldn’t get over that damn little twirl she’d done when she’d forgotten her coffee cup. It wasn’t exactly stroke material, but it kept playing in his head, like an ear worm, but one he could see.

Which was stupid. He couldn’t afford to give her so much real estate. He had a company to run now. And Dom was right about her having enough capital to become a very profitable client. There was still time to take Luca up on his offer to take over until George was free.

But Tony knew damn well he wasn’t going to do the sensible thing.

3 (#ulink_b10afc80-772f-5464-aeee-a078b8ebcaff)

FINALLY, THE ELECTRICIAN was gone. He’d been the last of the day crew to leave. She knew Sal’s team was working very hard to give her the house she wanted, but today that had meant moving wiring that displaced her temporary kitchen and living room. After a good deal of consideration, she’d decided not to move into a hotel until the restoration was done.

Although she was beginning to doubt it would ever start, let alone finish.

Tony had sent her the contract amendment, worded so that she’d have an out if the cost became too high. Along with it was a note assuring her that he was following through with hiring a restoration expert, but the one he had in mind might not be available for a couple weeks. She’d hoped Tony would’ve delivered the envelope in person, but she had something more important to consider. Whether to wait and put the renovation on hold if his man was unavailable? Or settle for second best?

All she needed for this first phase was someone who understood the history and architecture of the 1920s and ’30s. Her goal was to make sure she caught everything in the inventory of objects to restore. Any moment now, Fred, a man Tony was sending, would arrive to excavate while she cataloged his findings. She’d already changed into her casual clothes and was impatient to find out what treasures lay in wait.

The bell rang when she was halfway down the stairs. She hurried the rest of the way down and swung open the door.

Tony.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

And yet there he was, making her blush, somehow forcing her head to dip so she had to look at him through her eyelashes. As if she were a schoolgirl. Actually, she’d been way too sensible in her teens for that kind of display.

She stopped that nonsense in the next heartbeat. “Tony,” she said, making it almost a question, but in truth, it was a challenge.

“Hey. I hope this is all right. Me, instead of Fred. I can assure you that I know what I’m doing.”

“No. I mean, yes. It’s fine,” she said, carefully keeping her response neutral. “Of course.” She stepped back. “Please, come in.”

He stood close after she shut the door. It would have been polite for her to back away, but once she caught the scent of something woodsy and masculine she didn’t want to move. Odd, since she was very protective of her personal space. Tony just looked too damned good in his chambray shirt and a pair of worn jeans.

If she’d known he was coming, she would have put on something other than the old khakis and knit shirt she’d thrown on. She certainly would have put on a little more makeup. Done something more flattering to her hair—

Good Lord, what was happening to her?

“Turns out George and Fred are both tied up with other projects. We really can’t afford to wait. The domino effect could put us too far behind.”

She smiled. “That’s not what I’ve been led to believe about contractors. Aren’t they legendary for making people wait?”

“Not Paladino & Sons. Well, okay, sometimes delays happen, but we try to give realistic estimates, and let our customers know ahead of time if there might be a prob—” His eyes warmed with humor. “You were joking.”

She nodded, caught by the way he was staring at her. No noticeable blinking. Relaxed grin. His hand had recently pushed back his dark hair, and, oh, God, she’d seen that exact same look in dozens of romantic films. “It’s nice to see you again,” she said, thankful she’d been trained from birth to keep everything she felt to herself. “May I get you anything? Coffee? Wine?”

He shook his head, but his gaze didn’t budge.

“It’s a very nice cabernet from a great vineyard in Italy.”

“Well, as good as that sounds, I am here to work.”

Catherine felt the heat creeping up her neck. “Of course,” she said, turning away. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“But as long as the vineyard’s in Italy... I wouldn’t turn down a glass after we’ve finished for the evening.”

“The offer stands.” Leading him upstairs, she allowed herself a foolish grin, but kept her pace steady. Deciding not to dwell on the the fact that he was probably checking out her ass, she said, “I’ve done a little sleuthing on my own,” she said. “I’d planned on getting a good chunk of the inventory done by myself, but I was foiled by the mystery of what’s hiding underneath the paint on the fireplace mantel.” She pointed to the south wall.

Tony frowned. “Did you try to remove any paint?”

“Not really. I read that there was a good chance the paint had lead in it. I didn’t have the right safety gear, which I’ve since taken care of. But I did scrape a bit. It looks like it’ll be worth the work, at least to see if it’s cast iron.”

“That’s great. Good thinking.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Are you interested in doing some of the restoration work yourself?”