This Leonardo was so drastically changed she’d thought she was seeing a different man when she walked through the shop’s doors and saw him behind the counter. Her reaction to him—to sitting next to him, breathing his scent and catching him stealing glances at her with those eyes—was a hundred times more powerful as a result.
She wanted to climb into his lap and bury her fingers in his shoulder-length, pale gold waves. She wanted to watch his ocean-blue eyes darken to the color of a stormy sea as she wrapped herself around him and whispered his name in his ear.
Leonardo.
It practically begged to be spoken in her mother’s thick Spanish accent.
Lee-oh-NAR-doh.
God, it was delicious. He was delicious.
He smelled vaguely of clean wool and campfire and drank the coffee shop’s darkest brew black. There were wide silver rings on the middle finger of his left hand and one each on the first and third fingers of his right. Thick, stainless steel hoops pierced the conchae of his ears and circled through half-inch-wide gauges in his earlobes.
And she was just about dying to find out if he was also tattooed under that heavy cable-knit, torso-hugging black sweater and dark jeans he was wearing. He’d pushed up his sleeves earlier, but she didn’t see anything but the gold dust of his arm hair and a sprinkling of caramel-colored freckles on his forearms. Freckles she was dying to taste.
She had to have at least ten years on him, but what did that mean these days? It wasn’t as though she was in the market for a husband. She’d resigned herself to never being married, or even finding someone who wanted to commit to her, years ago, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun.
When he did finally join the conversation, he was not at all what she remembered about the man she’d met in Chicago. Back then he’d been the larger-than-life rock-and-roll frontman on stage and all cock and swagger off. The man sitting next to her now was soft-spoken with a clear, deep voice and a quiet calm that was making her toes curl.
“I’m working on a book about significant tattoos, as a matter of fact,” she said, tuning back into the conversation in time to catch Leni’s question about whether she was planning another book or not. “My genius webmaster sister talked me into it after she discovered the Ink page on my website gets ten times the hits of any other page. That includes the Wedding page, which gets an insane number of visitors every day.”
“You’d find a gold mine just hanging around the shop talking to the people who work there.” Leni said, her eyes shifting to Leo.
Now they were talking. He was tattooed under there somewhere.
“And their significant others,” Leonardo added, returning Leni’s pointed look.
“I like where this is going,” Joy said, looking between them.
“I’m going to warm my coffee.” Jamie stood, shaking his head at them.
“My twin sister and I have matching tattoos,” Leni offered without further prompting. “Jamie did both of them, but mine is a little different. I’d show you, but it would require practically taking my shirt off, and I’ve been asked to stop flashing people in public places.” She said the last bit with a warm look in Jamie’s direction.
“We can have a look when you come to Chicago for your engagement portraits.”
And she could not wait for that to happen. As a couple Jamie and Leni were going to be amazing in front of a camera together—the tall, dark, tattooed tough guy and his fair-haired, sweet-faced librarian.
Joy swiveled on her chair toward Leonardo and crossed her legs so the toe of her boot hooked around the leg of his chair.
“And you?”
His eyes shifted a second before he turned his head and gave her his full attention.
The barest of smiles touched his lips. “What about me?”
“Your significant tattoo,” she prodded.
The smile stretched a fraction of an inch. “I have one.”
They were playing a game, were they? Okay. She liked games.
“Just the one, or one that’s significant?”
“Just the one. It’s significant.”
She laced her fingers together, resting her hands in her lap as she looked him over.
“And it’s top secret?”
“Password protected,” he said with a single nod.
“What happens if I guess the password?”
He gave her a one-shoulder shrug and grinned playfully. She wondered if he’d accept her ripping off his clothes in lieu of guessing, because she was absolutely willing.
Right then. Right there.
And then his phone rang. He excused himself and crossed to the coffee shop’s double set of entrance doors in long, easy strides.
“I think I’d want to hang out at the shop all the time if I lived here.” Joy turned her attention back to Leni. “How do you handle it? I feel like I’m going into sensory overload sitting here with the two of them. They’re both so gorgeous.”
Leni gave Joy a knowing look. “Yes, I hang out there as often as possible. Between these two and Oz, there’s no shortage of eye candy in that shop.”
When Joy tipped her head to one side, not understanding, Leni grinned.
“You haven’t met him yet. His real name is Oscar, but everyone calls him Oz.” She sipped her coffee. “He can be a little surly, but he has that black-eyed gypsy look about him. Even with the full beard he wears, he’s beautiful.”
He sounded intriguing, but her thoughts were stuck on the tall blond in the foyer, leaning against a rack of shelves holding messy stacks of local freebie newspapers and flyers, listening to whoever was on the other end of the phone without speaking.
“I have to confess something.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “I probably shouldn’t because I like you, and frankly it could jeopardize you giving me this job, but I have to tell you I tried to take your fiancé home with me after he tattooed me in Chicago.”
Leni nodded, unfazed. “I know.”
That surprised her. “He told you?”
“I got a feeling when he was telling me about you, so I asked.” She hunched one shoulder. The gesture was casual. “It happens all the time. Women love him.”
Joy blinked at her a moment, caught off guard once more. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“It did at first. Then I was supposed to meet him for dinner one night months ago, but I was running late for whatever reason. As I was walking up to the restaurant I could see him through the front windows, waiting for me at the bar. There was a really beautiful woman sitting next to him, and she was obviously flirting, so I watched them.
“I’m not proud of myself, but I’d just come out of a bad situation with someone else, so I did it.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “He was being friendly with her, but I could just…tell he wasn’t flirting back. Not the way she probably wanted him to, anyway.” She shrugged a second time. “It hasn’t bothered me since.”
“What hasn’t bothered you?” Jamie asked, setting his coffee on the table and a scone in front of Leni.
She gave him a serene smile. “The way you attract women like you’re walking around naked, dipped in chocolate.”
“Have you been spiking your coffee again, sweetheart?” He picked up her cup and sniffed. “You know we’ve talked about this.”
“I have to go back to the shop,” Leo announced as he came back to the table. “That was Agnes. She said Pete showed up for work, but he’s been in the bathroom sick since he got there and someone just walked in asking about a piercing.”
“I can run you back,” Jamie said, snapping the lid on his to-go cup.
Joy held up a hand to stop him. “I can do it. I really should be getting back on the road anyway. My youngest sister has an exhibit in a new art gallery opening tonight and I’ll never make it in time if I don’t get back to the city.” She looked up at Leo. “It’s on my way back to the expressway.”
“You’re sure?” Jamie asked. “I can run and c
ome right back. It’s no trouble if you want to finish your coffee before you go.”
“No, really. It was great meeting you,” she said to Leni as she started to rise. “I’ll make another trip back when we can spend more time.”
“Or we can come out to see you. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Chicago.” Leni looked at Jamie, who looked as though he’d give her absolutely anything she asked for.
“I cleared my schedule for your birthday the first week of April.” He looked from Leni to Joy. “Maybe we can come out for a few days then.”
“Perfect,” Joy said. “We can take your engagement pictures then.” She reached for her coat but Leonardo was already holding it open for her.
Sexy, chivalrous, gorgeous man.
His warm fingers brushed lightly against her neck as he freed her ponytail from her collar and she shivered. Her voice nearly faltered as she thanked him.
“I have all your mother’s music,” he told her when they were in her car. “Sorry, your parents’ music,” he amended.
Which meant he knew her father co-wrote most of her mother’s original songs.
“Do you sing as well?” he asked.
She laughed and started the engine. “Sadly, no. Fate has a really twisted sense of humor. Not one of my sisters or I got her gift.”
She felt nervous suddenly, confined in such a close space with him looking at her the way he was. And that heady smell of his was making her thoughts loopy. She didn’t want to take him back to the tattoo shop and possibly not see him until Jamie and Leni’s wedding. She wanted to head straight for Chicago with him in the car.
“Sunny is my website guru,” she continued, dragging her thoughts back from kidnapper crazy to someplace more rational. “She has our father’s whip-smart business sense and his musical talent. She’s married with little kids and runs her website-design business from home, so she doesn’t go on the road when Mom travels, but she’s Mom’s drummer when she plays shows in the city.”
She put the car in drive and navigated around a massive Cadillac taking up too much space in the driveway while it waited for her spot.
“Love is a painter slash waitress,” she continued as she merged into traffic. “She’s had several pieces in other exhibits, but this is her first gallery opening. Her best friend is the gallery owner, so it’s a really big night for both of them.”
The light turned yellow just as she reached the intersection where she needed to turn to get back to the tattoo shop. She ran it, taking the corner just slightly faster than she might have normally, and her car jerked so hard to the right as it came to a sudden stop that she banged her head on the driver’s-side window. Leonardo, who’d been thrown against her for a second, righted himself and turned to face her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her thigh, his eyes wide with surprise and concern.
“I think so.” She rubbed the side of her head. “What the hell happened?”
She looked to her left, but they hadn’t been hit. She hadn’t seen a pothole big enough to swallow the right front wheel, but the car was tilted at a sharp angle toward the curb and the steering wheel was turned unusually far in that direction.
“Stay here,” he told her after double-checking that she was really all right. “I’ll go see what happened.”
That was just fine with her. Her hands were shaking and her head hurt. A lot.
Leo opened the door and stood. “Well shit.”
“What?” she asked, fumbling with her seatbelt.
He closed the door and went to the front of her car without answering, his expression grim. She started to get out, then remembered to turn her warning lights on and the engine off. He came around to her door and opened it for her.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, not quite believing what she was seeing.
Her front right tire had nearly come out of the wheel well and was turned at a gruesome angle from the rest of the car.
“I believe you have a broken axle.”
She put her hands to her face. “My sister is going to kill me.”
In her peripheral vision—because she couldn’t take her eyes off her poor, broken car to look at him—she saw him study her for a minute.
“It’s not your fault your car broke down,” he said, his tone mildly amused.
She shook her head and covered her freezing ears with her hands. “She knew I wasn’t going to make it tonight. She told me I would never get home in time if I stopped here on the way back, and I really hate it when she’s right.”
Leo lifted her hood over her head and she looked up at him. She’d forgotten her coat even had one. She never used the thing. But suddenly she was warm, especially so when he put an arm around her shoulders and held her close against his side.
“Get back in the car and turn the engine and the heat back on.” He spoke calmly, soothing her. “I’ll make a couple of phone calls. You’ll get back.”
Joy looked up into his gorgeous blue eyes and believed him.
Chapter Three
It had to be some bizarre twist of fate, stroke of luck, whatever, that caused her car to break down in the city and not after she was already on the turnpike heading home. Jamie and Leni had sat with them while they waited for the tow truck—Jamie’s SUV parked behind her car, hazard lights flashing while they kept warm inside—but Leonardo knew people.
The owner of the towing company had come out to get her car himself because Leonardo’s father was his business attorney, and then he refused to take so much as a dime from her in payment. Leonardo had gone to high school with the mechanic, who was not only supposed to be one of the best in town, but he’d promised to make her car his first priority. After he got the parts he needed on Monday, of course.
And now Leonardo was insisting on driving her to Chicago himself since it turned out Pete had nothing more severe than a case of bad breakfast sausage, not the flu, and didn’t need Leonardo to cover him at the shop.
No, she decided it was one hundred percent pure blind luck that had dropped her into the arms of what had to be the world’s last knight in shining armor.
Joy fought the temptation to wrap herself around his broad, wool-covered back to shield herself from the bitter cold while he fought the lock on what she prayed to God was not his parents’ house.
“You know, you might want to consider getting a new lock.” Her teeth chattered, causing her to stutter on the K.
A steam cloud billowed up around his head as he huffed out a single laugh.
“This one has sentimental value.”
“Well, in case you aren’t aware, they make this new-fangled stuff called oil.”
He stopped what he was doing to give her a bland look over his shoulder.
“No lie,” she continued. “I hear some kinds even come in aerosol cans with teeny, tiny little straws that fit into teeny, tiny little spaces.”
“Thank you. I’ll look into that,” he deadpanned, turning back.
The lock finally gave and he swung the heavy wooden door inward.
“Sorry, the cold makes me cranky.”
“Says the woman who lives in a city even colder than mine.” He picked up her suitcase and stepped aside to let her go in first.
The house—nestled in a neighborhood of small, gorgeous brick homes tucked behind the row of businesses where the tattoo shop resided—did not seem to belong to his parents. The interior was well put together and remarkably tidy but said nothing to her about belonging to Mom and Pop.
A low, wide sectional upholstered in a deep olive drab took up the front wall under the picture window and a majority of the corner. The coffee table and entertainment center were finished in a dark, masculine walnut. The top of the coffee table was strewn with books, magazines, notebooks, pens and a lone coffee cup.
The components of an old stereo graced the shelves of the entertainment center, with the turntable sitting next to a state-of-the-art Bose iPod dock on top. A respectably s
ized flat screen television hung on the wall above. There was a two-sided fireplace in the stone wall that separated the living room from the dining room, and gorgeous paintings of all sizes graced every wall she could see from where she was standing.
“You know, if you’re going to insist on driving me home yourself, you should at least make a night of it,” Joy said, wondering—not for the first time since it happened—if her car breaking down was some kind of ass-backward answer from the universe to her wish that she get more time with him.
She thanked him as he took her coat and hung it on a wall hook.
“Come to my sister’s gallery opening with me,” she said, looking up at him because wow he was so beautiful and standing so close.
She heard rapid clicking coming from somewhere in the house a split second before a medium-sized brown and white dog of indistinguishable origin came bounding into the room. The mutt was so ugly it was cute. It stopped directly in front of her and sat.
“My dog Norma Jean.” To Norma Jean he said, “Norma Jean, say hello.”
“I’ll be damned,” Joy whispered, laughing when Norma Jean waved her paw twice.
“If you hold out your hand she’ll shake.”
Joy looked skeptical. “She doesn’t need to smell me to get familiar first?”
“Oh, she’ll get to sniffing you in a minute.” He tipped his head toward the dog in encouragement. “Give it a try.”
Joy bent at the waist and held out her hand. Sure enough, the dog put her paw in it without hesitation. So Joy shook. “Good to meet you, Norma Jean.”
Leo bent to scratch her ears affectionately and the spell was instantly broken. She barked once and started sniffing Joy’s boots with a happy kind of curiosity.
“So I’m guessing you won’t want to leave her home alone all night so you can hang out with me in Chicago.” Which was a shame, because as soon as she’d made the offer she’d realized she wanted him there more than anything.
“I’m having a hard time believing a woman like you wouldn’t already have a date,” he said, heading for the kitchen.
No point in mentioning she’d wanted to go dateless. The men she knew were making her life far too complicated lately. And yet there she was, inviting one to go with her at the eleventh hour anyway.
Steel Lust Page 2