Page 38 of One Naughty Night (Single in South Beach)

“Was. Past tense. But the incident still plays havoc with me. I need to find a way to deal with that before I go forward and…” Start a relationship.Or fall head over heels for you. “Make peace with myself.”

* * *

More like theperv would be making peace with the asphalt beneath his nose when Renzo finished with him.

Knowing that saying as much would be counter-productive at this point, however, Renzo forced himself to remain silent.

He bit his tongue. Closed his eyes. Squeezed his temples in a pincer grip to alleviate the fury pulsing through his veins.

He would wait to kick ass at the museum until another day. Right now, he needed to let Esme know she had a hell of a lot more going for her than she realized. And thanks to his brother’s help yesterday, he had the perfect way to prove it to her.

She waved a sheaf of papers in front of his nose. “I actually brought a couple of new furniture requests for us to go over. Do you have a few minutes?”

“You got more orders?” The woman must spend far too much time working to have wrangled as many sales as she had in the past week. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

“I’m too excited over the prospect of regular income again to even think about sleeping.” She hitched at the short sleeve of her silk blouse, drawing his attention to her lightly tanned arms and a jingling charm bracelet around one wrist. “Should we go inside to work on these?”

He wanted to take her inside all right. Straight to his bedroom so they could lock the door behind them and remember exactly why they were better off together than apart.

“No. I don’t want to work and I don’t want to go inside.” He slid the papers from between her fingers and tossed them onto the front seat of her car through the open window.

“And since when is being in business for yourself a matter of doing whatever you want?” Frowning, she reached to retrieve her notes.

“Since I decided it’s more important for you to make peace with yourself than it is for us to discuss new sales. I’ve got something I want to show you.” Palming the small of her back, her propelled her forward.

Glaring over her shoulder, she dug her heels in. “Why doyouget to decide we ignore business?”

“BecauseIwent to the trouble to make you a gift that you need to see.” He nudged her forward again, more gently this time. “Will you come with me? Please?”

“A gift?” Some of the starch seeped out of her shoulders, her feet moving along more amiably. “For me? But my birthday’s four months away.”

As he led her around the back of the house again, he managed to catch his brother’s eye and give him the high sign to haul ass out of there. He wanted to be alone with Esme for this.

“It’s not that kind of present.” How to explain the gift he’dhadto make for her? After he’d discovered that slab of maple wood, the thing sort of took shape of its own volition. “You’ll see.”

By the time they reached the canvas where Brody and Nico had just finished working, the outdoor walkway lights had flicked on in deference to the sunset. Thankfully, his mouthy helpers left without giving him a hard time, Nico only pausing long enough to snag a bank check to cover a car downpayment since he planned to bring a vehicle up to Boston that weekend.

“I hope they didn’t leave on our account.” Esme inspected the cherry sideboard by the dim light cast from the walkway lamps.

“Nah,” he lied, eager to show her the project he’d been working on all week. “They should have gone home a long time ago. Now, are you coming with me to see this thing or am I going to have to carry you?”

She blinked those wide blue eyes at him, eyes far more canny than he’d realized when they first met. “I can certainly walk.” She tilted her stubborn little chin and stared down her nose at him. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He plucked her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder, ignoring a squeal of laughing protest. The position aligned her hip with his cheek, tempting him sorely to give her thigh a quick nip through the wheat-colored linen of her skirt.

By the time he ducked into the small wooden work shed in the backyard, the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine gave way to the tang of fresh sawdust and the lightly chemical scent of dried polyurethane. He slid Esme down to her feet, taking his time to appreciate the subtle curves of her slender body.

It had been too long since he’d held her.

Their gazes locked as their thighs brushed. Only he didn’t see a wary woman who avoided taking chances. The Esmerelda Giles in his eyes looked ready to wriggle her way out of her clothes and back into his arms.

Ignoring the caveman urge to drag her to his bed and keep her there for days, Renzo took a step back, determined to prove something to her.

“I’ve been working on this all week,” he started, his voice rough with too much desire. Too much hope.

Hadn’t he learned anything about not rushing into relationships after the debacle with Celeste? Clearing his throat, he fingered the drop cloth that covered his creation standing in the middle of the floor and started again.

“That is, I’ve been working on this in all my spare time simply because the idea possessed me once I figured out what I needed to make.” He hitched up a corner of the soft cotton fabric and twisted the material between his fingers. “I found this huge piece of maple wood a while ago and— don’t laugh—thought of you as soon as I touched it.”

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