Scent of Love: Falcons in Love, #1

By Sophia Knightly

He's hotter than a habanero. She's sparkling champagne. Sometimes opposites attract in the most delicious ways...
 
All Gabe Falcon wants is to make his trendy Naples restaurant a success. Until he meets his new neighbor, that is. The sweet and sexy perfumer challenges and entices him in equal measure from the start. Too bad the only thing she wants is for him to get lost.
 
Lily Marlowe doesn't have time for the annoyingly hot alpha next door, especially when the spicy aromas of Gabe's dishes overpower her fragrances and run off her customers. The fact that he's the only man to ever make her regret all the barriers she's built around her heart? Irrelevant. This is business. 
 
But Gabe isn't about to give up on Lily without a fight, and when he makes her an offer she can't refuse, she quickly finds her ordered life thrown into a tailspin. Torn between business and desire, can Lily learn to trust her senses--and Gabe? Or will their happily ever after be snuffed out before it can even begin? 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sophia Knightly
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780998909479

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lily Marlowe walked to the window and lifted a blue and gold Venetian glass atomizer to admire the prism of colors in the sunlight, but she nearly dropped it when she got an eyeful of raw masculine beauty. Bare from the waist up, a tall, swarthy man flexed his brawn outside her perfume shop. The rippling sinew and hard muscular planes of his torso gleamed in the January afternoon sun like a bronze statue.

Mouth agog, she watched him unload crates from a white pickup truck. Faded jeans hung sinfully low on washboard abs and hugged lean hips and muscular thighs. In synchronized harmony, his strong arms and broad shoulders fulfilled the mindless task as she gawked.

A slow shiver ran through her at the sight of big brown hands effortlessly lifting the crates as if they were filled with feathers. The laborer had been there for the past week, but this was the first time he’d shed his shirt, and she hadn’t been prepared for the bountiful display of male virility.

Reining in her momentary weakness, she closed her gaping mouth and turned to Belinda Clarke, her full-time employee and good friend, with raised brows. He’s back.

Who is? Belinda said absently. Immersed in the inventory list, she didn’t lift her gaze.

Our resident eye candy. He’s practically naked today. Lily snorted when Belinda dropped the inventory list and flew to her side with a squeal of delight.

Ooh, let me see. Belinda peered out of the window eagerly. Yummm, she purred. I could watch him all day.

Lily shut the shades with a decisive snap.

Belinda pouted. Aw, why’d you do that?

He’s too distracting.

I don’t mind the distraction. All those muscles. Belinda fanned herself. He is hotter than a habanero pepper.

Lily waved a dismissive hand, though she privately agreed. He’s an exhibitionist. No one would go shirtless in fifty-degree weather unless he wanted to call attention to himself.

Maybe, Belinda said in her lilting West Indies accent. "But he has been working hard, and the sun is hot. He must be building up a sweat. Her chocolate brown eyes danced merrily in her caramel colored face as she clasped her hands to her chest and lifted her gaze heavenward. Please don’t let it rain."

Lily smiled. I wish he would finish the work already. All the commotion isn’t good for business. Her gaze swept the cool, tranquil interior of Fleur Perfumery with pleasure. It was near dinnertime and the last shopper had just left giving them a moment to chat. Our customers come here for a luxurious experience, not to hear drilling and pounding.

Lily fondly eyed the whimsical Venetian glass atomizers lined up on her beloved Aunt Simone’s desk. Sparkling like multi-colored jewels, they reminded Lily of countless childhood afternoons spent gazing at them in wonder. All of her memories, hopes and dreams were tied up in this enchanting shop. She’d helped Aunt Simone run Fleur Perfumery after school, during the long, hot summers and over the holidays.

She knew the business inside out and loved everything about it, from the sheer artistry of creating custom perfumes to the joy of discovering new scent combinations that magically lifted a client’s spirits. Fleur Perfumery was home for her.

Did you ever find out what type of restaurant they’re opening? Belinda said.

No, not yet. She blew out a frustrated breath. The sign says they’re opening soon, but there’s no name anywhere. And the windows are blacked out. Why the big secret? I want to know what to expect next door.

I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’re on 5th Avenue in downtown Naples, remember? Belinda flashed a reassuring smile. You know how difficult it is to get permits approved here.

Yeah, don’t I know it, Lily said on a reflective sigh. I spent countless hours at zoning hearings lobbying for Aunt Simone when they wanted to turn this block into restaurant row. It would have killed her if they had. She was very attached to this shop. Her French husband, my Uncle Bertrand, bought it for her when they moved back to the States from Paris.

After Lily’s mother had remarried and relocated to Canada with her new husband, Aunt Simone had become Lily’s surrogate mom, encouraging her to get a business degree. She’d paid for Lily’s education at the Wharton School of Business. Grateful for her generosity, Lily had buried herself in studying and had graduated Magna Cum Laude, but her personal life had taken a toll because of it.

Returning to Naples with an MBA and a keen knowledge of social media marketing, Lily had vowed to repay her aunt’s generosity by bringing Fleur Perfumery into the 21 st Century. But that hadn’t been enough for Aunt Simone, who was obsessed with getting Lily married off. Good thing she’d left for a year as Lily was getting tired of Faye Honeywell, the matchmaker Aunt Simone had contracted for Lily. So far, the candidates Faye had come up with hadn’t worked out, and Lily needed a break from all of it.

She hadn’t heard from Faye in a while, but that didn’t make her let her guard down. Lily was constantly on the alert for one of the pushy woman’s impromptu calls or visits.

Have you gotten another postcard from your aunt? I love that she sends postcards. It’s so old school.

I love getting them. I’m putting them in a photo album she gave me before leaving. She’s been gone three months. At the rate she’s going, I may need to get another album.

Where is she now? Belinda said.

She’s touring the Greek Islands. Her honeymoon is the longest I’ve ever seen. They plan to travel the world.

Last year, Aunt Simone had met Charlie, a tycoon widower, at a charity benefit and married him three months later. After a whirlwind romance, she’d handed the shop keys to Lily and said, Fleur Perfumery can be yours if you get us out of the red and turn a nice profit while I’m away. Aunt Simone had looked her square in the eye with her trademark shrewd green eyes. But whatever you do, don’t neglect your personal life. Your Uncle Bertrand was the most wonderful husband I could’ve asked for, and I miss him dearly. But now I have a sweetie who is making me happy again. I want the same for you.

As if it were that easy…

It’s amazing she got lucky twice. I mean, two husbands, and both of them great, Belinda said interrupting Lily’s musings. I can’t even meet one decent guy.

Tell me about it, Lily mumbled.

Sometimes I miss Sebastian so much I’m tempted to call him, but then I remember why I broke up with him. Belinda had been living with Sebastian for four years, and they’d dated for a year before she’d moved in with him. When he didn’t propose at Christmastime, she’d taken her parents’ advice and asked him if he ever intended to get married. His answer had been so evasive, she’d moved out the next day.

You were smart to leave. If he comes back to you with a ring, that’s another story.

Belinda’s eyes burned with affront. I hate that I wasted five years on him. It seems like most guys these days are serial daters. I’m about ready to give up on them.

Please. You have plenty of time. I’m not going to settle even though I’m five years older than you.

Nobody would believe it, Belinda said loyally. You look much younger than 35.

Thanks, but I’m worried my hair will turn gray with all I’ve got going on.

What are you worried about?

My aunt took a giant leap of faith turning her business over to me. I want to live up to my promises and make her proud. The prospect of owning Fleur Perfumery made Lily dizzy with longing and anticipation.

You’re doing great. Everything runs like clockwork, and you’re gaining a loyal group of return clients.

Lily smiled. I’m really proud of that. I hope that everything next door is up and running soon. We can’t have anything ruin Winterfest. Our booth has to turn a big profit to jumpstart sales and orders.

Winterfest is a month away. Maybe you should ask Mr. Habanero about the restaurant.

I’d rather talk to his boss, not the foreman.

I wouldn’t mind talking to the foreman. She grinned. He looks exotic…Latino maybe. I want to see him up close.

"No, I’ll go. I have a few questions I want answered."

Belinda tilted her head. Like what?

I want to know who took my parking spot today. I have a feeling the silver jag belongs to his boss, the man or woman who bought the place next door.

Find out his name, Belinda prompted as Lily headed to the front door.

Be right back, Lily said, ignoring Belinda’s half-joking request.

The moment Lily opened the front door and the chilly air hit her, she wished she’d grabbed her jacket before leaving. Her black knit dress with bell sleeves didn’t provide enough warmth even with the Hermes scarf loosely draped around her neck. She rubbed her arms and tried to ignore the slight ache in her temples from being awakened by a recurrent nightmare last night. Short on sleep and not happy about wearing too high stilettos for a date that wasn’t happening tonight, she headed toward the worker.

Oblivious to her advance, he worked steadily, not looking up once to acknowledge her when she was a few feet away.

Excuse me, she called out. Can I have a word with you?

He stopped in mid-action and watched her approach. When she reached his side, he set down the crate and wiped his brow with his forearm, the action drawing her attention to his flexed biceps. He pushed his mirrored aviators up into his tousled dark hair and peered at her curiously. A trace of scruff lined his sharp jaw and corded neck.

Sucking in a startled breath, Lily stared into exotic dark eyes rimmed by dense, inky lashes. His intense gaze made every cell in her body jump like an agitated puppy. It had to be his whipcord strength and the way he stood with strong hands on hip bones exposed by the low-slung jeans that made her forget why she was standing there gaping at him.

Can I help you? he prompted, taking a step toward her.

I…uhhh… She abruptly stepped backward and staggered as her stiletto heel got lodged between the concrete sidewalk slabs. He reached out and when his callused fingertips touched her wrist, a jolt zinged through her so powerfully, she stumbled again, her arms flailing like Kermit the Frog.

Hey, take it easy. You OK? He took hold of her wrists and steadied her before releasing her gently.

Yes, I’m OK, she managed, embarrassed by her clumsiness. She yanked her foot up, but the damned heel remained lodged in the sidewalk. With a muffled curse, she bent over and carefully pulled the pump out, but to her dismay the leather on the heel had gotten badly scraped.

There went her splurge shoes. Hopefully, she could get them repaired. This was turning out to be a costly and crappy day. The only reason she’d worn them was for her third date tonight with Nathan, but he’d cancelled at the last minute leaving her in uncomfortable shoes for the rest of the day. Note to self – keep a pair of flats at work.

Thick brows lowered over searching eyes. Are you sure you’re OK? When she nodded, he said, Why do you wear such high heels? His gaze swept the length of her legs. They look nice on you, but they’re bad for your knees.

What did he know about knees? Bristling, Lily yanked down the hem of her skirt to shield her legs from his interested gaze. With a toss of her blonde hair, she shot him a withering look.

I’m not here to discuss my shoes with you, she said in an even tone.

Bemused, he looked her up and down. What do you want then?

She straightened to her full 5’5 of height. Her stiletto heels brought her to 5’8, but she was still shorter than him by far. I own the perfume shop next door. Not entirely true, but if all worked out, Fleur Perfumery would be hers by the end of the year.

He raised a skeptical brow. I thought it belonged to Madame Beaulieu, he said, surprising Lily with his accurate French inflection.

It does, but I’m going to inherit it soon. How on earth did the worker know her aunt’s name? And why was she answering his nosy questions?

Is Madame ill? he said as if he knew Aunt Simone.

No, she’s fine. I didn’t come here to discuss my aunt’s health, which is excellent.

He scratched his neck. Madame is your aunt? He eyed her as if anything she said was suspect.

Ignoring his last question, she changed the subject. Do you know whose car is in my spot?

Which one?

The one behind my shop, she replied in a voice that said it was obvious. The spots weren’t labeled, but anyone could’ve guessed it didn’t belong to the restaurant that was about to open next door. I had to park a block away this morning and walk over, she said, trying to keep her voice even-keeled.

In those heels? he cut in with a dubious shake of his head. No wonder you’re cranky.

I am not cranky. She punctuated her words with a haughty lift of her chin, which made his lips twitch. She didn’t appreciate the irony in his tone or the way his gaze traveled the length of her legs from bare knees to ankles. It hadn’t been fun to maneuver the long block to work in stilettos, and she’d been standing in them all day.

Her feet ached, and her beautiful pumps were ruined. Truth be told, she was cranky, but she wasn’t going to admit it to him.

Whatever you say. His indulgent tone only added to her grumpy mood.

Is your boss here?

My boss? He gave a nonchalant shrug. I guess so.

I want to speak to him.

About what? He’s busy.

Why was he playing gatekeeper? She planted her hands on her hips. The parking space he’s been using is mine.

Maybe it was empty when he arrived.

It was only empty this morning because I ran late and—

Why did you run late?

That’s none of your business. He sure was cheeky. She ran late because her car wouldn’t start, and she had to get it jumpstarted. Good thing Belinda had arrived early and opened the shop for her. Tell him to stay out of my parking spot. Please, she added when she realized she’d snapped at him.

He leaned forward and peered at her with open curiosity. Anything else?

Yes. She gestured from the truck to the boarded-up building and back to him. The sooner he got the job finished, the sooner normalcy would return to their beautiful block. I want to know when the drilling and pounding will be over. All the commotion is bad for business, and the loud noise is jarring. When will your work be finished?

Soon. He looked heavenward and back to her. Sorry it’s bothering your delicate sensibilities.

The sardonic curve of his lips and his complacent tone irked her. So, he found her amusing? Mr. Habanero needed to know she meant business.

You don’t need delicate sensibilities to hear the drilling, she said through stiff lips. Are you the foreman?

You could say that. He straightened, and his chest expanded with pride. He stood before her with legs outspread and arms folded across his powerful torso. I’m also the owner, he announced.

Lily snorted. "You’re the owner?"

I am, he said in an authoritarian tone that defied her to doubt him.

Why didn’t you say so in the first place? she demanded.

His lips lifted in amusement. You didn’t ask.

That’s not funny. What’s your name? She was going to Google him as soon as she got back to her shop.

I’m Gabe Falcon. He extended his hand.

She stared at his outstretched palm and really didn’t want to shake it, but it would be rude not to. Plus, if she refused, she’d get off on the wrong foot with the owner of the business next door to hers. She gingerly held out her hand, and the second his rough-skinned palm touched her soft one, a slow, spine-tingling shiver wracked her from head to toe. She gasped as heat seeped from his large hand into hers. Never in her life had she touched a hand quite so…so hard and tough…and hot at first contact. It was too intimate by far.

She snatched her hand back and uttered through tight lips, What kind of restaurant are you opening?

Mexican. Are you familiar with Gabe’s Grub food trucks?

Lily nodded. Anyone who loved to eat was familiar with Gabe’s Grub trucks. From the moment one of them had parked itself in Celebration Park, it had gained an ardent following of foodies who didn’t mind driving out to North Naples to nosh on the finest pork tacos and authentic Mexican food in the area. She’d heard there was another truck in nearby Bonita Springs too.

The trucks are mine, he said proudly. I’m expanding my business with this restaurant.

She closed her eyes to let the news sink in. When she opened them, her eyes locked with his. You’re not keeping the same name…are you?

Nope. Grub wouldn’t sound right for 5th Avenue. I’m naming it Tequila Sunset.

That’s better.

Glad you think so.

Was he mocking her? Good. There’s nothing more for me to say here. Good day.

Thanks. You too, Petunia.

Petunia? Lily’s eyes snapped open. Did you just call me Petunia? When he nodded, she said, Why?

"Doesn’t fleur mean flower in French?"

It does. So, he spoke a bit of French. La-di-da.

Petunias are pretty flowers. He paused. But they’re also petulant.

Petulant my ass, she muttered, and had the satisfaction of seeing his eyebrows shoot up. For your information, my name is Lily.

Ah, Lily. He put his hand on his chin and considered for a moment. It suits you. A delicate, white blossom. Do you ever go to the beach? he asked, eyeing her pale arms.

Yes, but only at sunrise and sunset. Her fair skin couldn’t take the midday sun without getting burned.

His head tilted as he squinted against the setting sun that framed her back. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes only made him look hotter. Interesting. Most gringas love to bake in the sun, he murmured.

Now you’re stereotyping. For your information, I don’t bake in the sun because of my fair skin.

A smile teased the corners of his mouth. Good decision. You shouldn’t burn such fine skin.

Lily remained silent as his dark-as-sin eyes connected with hers.

Let’s start over, he said.

Why? I think you’ve said enough.

Because we’re going to be neighbors…and friends, I hope, he continued amiably. One side of his mouth quirked revealing a wicked dimple and strong, white teeth. His lop-sided grin and the devilry in his gleaming espresso eyes were going to be the death of her. "That is, if you can quit scowling at me.

The throb in her temples intensified. I am not scowling.

"Coulda fooled me. Is that your normal expression then, fresa?"

Why are you calling me a strawberry? She might not be fluent in Spanish, but she knew enough of it from college.

"Fresa means something else in Mexico. When she remained silent, he said, Don’t you want to know what it is?"

No. Lily’s eyes narrowed into mordant slits. She hated being teased, especially by men. It brought painful memories of her father’s taunts when she was little.

She felt her throat close up as a long-ago affliction reared up. Her ears burned as she tried to form a smooth retort and not choke on the words, but there was no guarantee her words would flow in a smooth, coherent sentence. Heart thumping, she stood before him, not daring to speak. The last thing she wanted was to stutter and give him the upper hand.

"Hey, I was just teasing. You can call me naco if it makes you feel better." He waited for her reply, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.

After an awkward, long moment, she pivoted on her damaged heel, jaw clamped, back straight and shoulders pushed together. Head held high, she stormed away, glad she’d worn Spanx to smooth any telltale jiggle. He was probably checking out her behind. Most Latin men did that when a girl walked by, she knew it for a fact.

She quickened her pace when she heard his low chuckle. Ohhh, how she would love to deck him or stomp on his big foot or…or…do something evil that would annihilate him! He was infuriating and insufferable.

He was