almost felt sorry for him.
Santo Alvanetti exuded power and assurance, his tailor-made suit, his hair crisp and dark and falling in touchable curls around his face and neck much in the same way as his son’s. But right now, the man’s expression filled with realization and panic, his onyx gaze darkening even more.
“I am so sorry,” he said, obviously rewinding his thoughts so he could assess the situation. “It’s been one of those mornings and I was expecting Mrs. Brownlee and I must have gotten the time wrong and...I completely forgot you would be coming by today.”
Even as he explained, one of the beautiful little girls let out a yelp and his son started crying again. While his cell buzzed over and over.
“Give me the boy,” Mrs. Brownlee said in a manner that made them all stop what they were doing. “I’ll put him in his car seat and I’ll get the girls to school. You did alert the school that I have permission to drop them off and pick them up, of course.”
His gaze moved from the prim woman to Davina. “Not yet, but I’ll put that on my list.”
“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Mrs. Brownlee said, her big glasses and boot-cut jeans made her look much too hip to be a nanny.
“Look, I’ll drop the girls at school,” he replied. “And I’ll get it all straightened out. If you can just handle Nate.”
“Nate and I will be fine,” Mrs. Brownlee replied. “When you get home tonight, I’ll go over the terms of my employment. For now, we’re all going to be okay.”
He looked from her to Davina again as if caught in a trap. Again, Davina felt empathy and sympathy for him, her heart doing a little tug that made her much too aware of how handsome the man was. “Would you walk me to my car?” he asked. “So we can discuss what needs to be done with the house?”
“Sure.” Davina smiled at Mrs. Brownlee, her heart hammering an erratic beat against her insides. “I’ll be back to look over the house and do some calculating, if that’s okay with both of you.”
Mrs. Brownlee nodded. “Won’t bother me a bit.” Giving them both an impish grin, she added, “I’ll be doing the same.”
“Let’s go, girls,” he said, prodding the two dark-haired children toward his sleek sedan. After he had the chattering, fussing girls inside the car with their seat belts on, he left the driver’s door open and turned to Davina. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know who you were. I thought my sister said David...somebody...would be coming by. I wasn’t expecting—”
“A woman?” she finished. “I’ve never been called David but my dad calls me Dani.” She spelled out the nickname for him. “I prefer Davina, however.”
“Davina,” he said, his dark eyes pouring over her like liquid chocolate. “I think I’ll remember your name from now on.”
“It’s okay,” she said to hide the sizzle of something richer and darker than even his chocolate eyes. “I was hoping we could do a walk-through on the house.”
His cell buzzed with an annoying hum. “Work,” he explained, checking it and shutting it down. “I’m late for a meeting.”
And by the way he was fidgeting, he wanted out of here.
“Well, I’m burning daylight,” she said in her firm voice that usually made surprised, unsure men sit up and take notice. “What do you want me to do?”
“Rikki trusts you so I guess I will, too,” he replied, already getting into the car. “Look it over and call me with an estimate. Maybe we can meet here again later.”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t going to hold her breath on that. “My time is just as valuable as yours, so that’s your choice.”
He stared up at her again, causing Davina to shiver even while the early springtime sun was warm on her skin. “My sister says you come highly recommended,” he said. “She just neglected to explain that you’re a woman.”
“Does that matter?” Davina asked, used to this type of conversation. “I work harder than any man you could hire.” She handed him her business card.
“It matters,” he said, his tone low and gravelly. Tucking the card in his pocket, he added, “But not in the way you might think.”
Then he cranked the car and backed out of the driveway, leaving Davina to wonder why her being here should matter to him at all.
Davina moved around the modern, sleek living room of the house on the bay, reminding herself she was taking on this job and the renovation of the other house this man had also purchased because her friend Rikki Alvanetti Kent had handpicked her. She’d known Rikki since college and they’d kept up with each other since they both worked in the same field.
Rikki was an interior designer, so they threw each other work here and there. And this was a big chunk of work.
Davina needed this project on her résumé since she was trying to establish her budding construction company as a leading player in the ever-changing Southern real estate market. But she’d heard the rumors that swirled with all the flickering evasiveness of fireflies around the quaint town of Millbrook Lake, Florida.
Santo Alvanetti came from a gangster family. A Mafia lord. His wife murdered two people close to Rikki Alvanetti and tried to kill her, too. Althea Alvanetti died in a shoot-out at an old warehouse. Detective Blain Kent killed her to save the woman he loved. The whole mess involved a diamond-and-emerald necklace that belonged to Santo’s mother, Sonia.
Everyone says they’ve changed and that they aren’t doing anything illegal now, but you need to stay away from that family.
Although she and Rikki hadn’t talked in detail about the tragedy that had happened over a year ago, Rikki had told her if she didn’t feel comfortable taking the job, they’d all understand. But Davina had a policy that had always served her well. Ignore the rumors and get to the truth. And in renovating houses, the truth always lay in the bones. This house was a showpiece, no doubt. But the bones were sorely lacking.
Something was missing.
“I don’t feel the love,” Mrs. Brownlee said as she came back into the big open area with the majestic windows that highlighted the pool and the water beyond. “I just don’t feel it at all.”
Davina turned toward the older woman. “Me either. There’s a sadness shadowing this brilliant room.”
“I think it’s called neglect,” Mrs. Brownlee replied, running her finger over a dusty table, her earrings swaying. “It lacks warmth.”
“Yes, I agree,” Davina said. She liked Virginia Brownlee. “Even with the stunning view and all the glass that brings in the sunshine, it’s still a bit cold.”
“Call me Virginia,” the other woman said. “What do you aim to do to make this place worthy of love again?”
Davina grinned and grabbed the leather tool pouch her daddy had given
