SPARKLE OF GLASS, a contemporary romance novel by USA Today Bestselling Author Shawna Delacorte, from The Wild Rose Press www/wildrosepress.com

Available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online vendors.

Putting a painful past behind her, Darvi Stanton has a new job in a small coastal town in Oregon. Designing the stained-glass windows for a Victorian-style inn under renovation is right up her alley. She’s determined to impress the owner in spite of the obnoxious, know-it-all contractor with gorgeous eyes and a charming smile.

Rance Coulter had another artist in mind for the decorative windows of his new project, someone with more experience, someone less... attractive. When he’s overruled, he gives in grudgingly, but they clash over every decision. The only time she’s not arguing with him is when he’s kissing her.

Will mixing business with pleasure lead to ruin or a happily ever after.

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"Hey, you there--Red!" An angry male shout shattered the morning quiet on the tree-lined main street of Sandy Cove, Oregon.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah...you with the red hair. You’re in my parking place!"

She squinted into the morning sun as she brought her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes. "Since my car is already parked here, I’d say it’s my parking space."

"Everyone in town knows that’s where I always park."

She glanced up and down the road, then returned her attention to him. "This is public parking on a city street. There isn’t any sign indicating parking restrictions."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" His angry question left no doubt in her mind that she had violated his sense of the order of things.

"I know who I am." She fixed him with a hard stare, then a condescending smirk that said as much as her words. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Darvi turned her back on him and walked away, but even as she hurried toward her destination, she couldn’t dismiss the incident from her mind. She felt his stare bore into the back of her head.

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Darvi pulled her car into the parking lot of the inn located just north of town on a bluff overlooking the ocean. She looked around the nearly deserted parking area as she climbed out of her car, immediately recognizing the large black car belonging to George Adamson. She had never seen the other vehicle before, a sleek red sports car. In addition to being the architect on the renovation project, George also owned the property. She would be providing all the special stained-glass windows for the remodeling of the bed-and-breakfast inn, originally built in 1902. He had personally hired her, overruling the contractor’s objection and expressed choice of hiring someone else.

As she entered the lobby, she spotted George standing by the fireplace talking with another man whose back was to her. She made her way toward them, offering an apologetic smile. "George... I’m so sorry to be late. Some scruffy, arrogant jerk blocked me into a parking space this morning with his beat-up old truck and wouldn’t let me out. He kept me waiting for half an hour." She turned briefly toward the other man, acknowledging his presence with a friendly smile.

"Don’t give it another thought. I just got here myself. Let me introduce you to the contractor on this project. Darvi Stanton this is Rance Coulter. The two of you will be working closely together for the next few months so you need to get acquainted."

Darvi extended her hand to Rance as she carefully looked him over--mid thirties, dark blond hair, clear blue eyes, and stood about six feet one inch tall. There was something familiar about him, something around his eyes and nose, but she couldn’t quite place it or where she might have seen him. "I’m very pleased to meet you, Rance. I’m really looking forward to getting started on this project. It’s going to be a real challenge, but I think this will be quite a showplace when it’s finished."

Rance felt the soft warmth of her touch as he grasped her outstretched hand in his. He extended the same dazzling smile he had used earlier that day when he had confronted her on the street, not knowing her identity. "Scruffy, arrogant jerk? I’ll admit that I certainly needed a shave and a haircut. I’d been tramping around in the wilderness for two weeks, then I spent another two weeks on the beach in Hawaii. I admit my clothes were a mess, although no more so than that interesting outfit you were wearing. But... arrogant jerk?"

His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Really, Red--you were the one who stole my parking space. And that beat-up old truck, as you so callously referred to it, has great sentimental value to me." He had intended to put her on the defensive with his verbally aggressive manner, a tactic that usually worked to his advantage especially with strangers. It gave him more time to size them up, to categorize them, and determine what tactic to use in dealing with them.

She glared at him, her green eyes flashing defiantly. "Don’t call me Red." Then she paused and blatantly scrutinized him. "I didn’t recognize you all cleaned up. I’ll take back the scruffy part but arrogant and jerk still seem totally applicable."

The smile faded from his face as he stared at her. The realization hit him that he just might have underestimated her. His eyes locked with hers in silent combat. He stretched his tall frame to the maximum.

Darvi Stanton stood a little over five feet seven inches. Tall men did not intimidate her. She refused to back down from his aggressive body language.

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He reached out and brushed an errant tendril of hair from her cheek. His fingertips lingered. Their gazes locked. An eerie stillness filled the air. Darvi’s heart pounded. Blood rushed in her ears. Her mouth and throat went dry as she tried to swallow. Tremors started deep inside, then quickly spread through her body. His eyes turned a smoky blue. He slowly leaned his face into hers, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

She hesitated for a brief moment, then pulled back from him. "I think we’d better get to work before the evening is gone."

He looked at her questioningly, then assumed a businesslike attitude. "I think you’re right. My primary concern at this time is dimensions and placement rather than design and color."

"Could we talk color and design for a minute first? The dimensions I have right now won’t mean anything if I have to redo designs. New designs will probably change the size and shape of the windows."

"You’re planning on windows that don’t fit standard sizes and shapes?"

"Let me show you what I have, then you can tell me if it will work."

He looked at her for a moment as he took another swallow of his beer. "All right, that makes sense. What have you got?"

Darvi spread out sketches across her worktable, some still line drawings, others transferred to watercolor. "I want to stay away from bright blue, bright green, and bright red. I don’t want this to look like the windows in some sixteenth-century European cathedral. I want to do something modern, yet reminiscent of the softness and sensuality of a time gone by, paying homage to the Victorian era that influenced the design of the original inn’s construction. I want muted colors--nothing that will keep anyone awake at night."

"That’s incredible. That’s exactly what I was thinking--soft colors with a Victorian feel."

"I want the windows to be representative of the view from the room through the sliding glass doors. The ocean-view rooms will depict ocean scenes and the mountain-view rooms will have mountain and forest scenes. I’m going to limit the designs to the same four basic colors. Rooms will have different dominant colors, yet combine all four colors. That way the various colors of sheets, towels, and things like that can be switched from room to room without interrupting the overall flow."

Rance slowly nodded his approval. "I had my doubts last week. I even had my doubts this morning, but I think your ideas and mine will work together just fine."

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Darvi took in a deep breath as they stepped out onto the patio, then slowly exhaled. Rance pulled her into his arms, startling her with his totally unexpected action. The silvery shimmer from the full moon highlighted his handsome features. He held her close, but not too close. A tremor shot through her body. His after-shave tickled her senses, his touch much too inviting. Her carefully constructed façade began to crumble.

For a brief moment, she did not care. Darvi melted into his arms as he drew her closer, holding her against the hardness of his taut body. It had been a long time--two years to be exact--since she had allowed this type of closeness, to experience the sensations that coursed through her at that moment. He excited her senses, made her blood race. Being in his arms felt good. She didn’t want to leave. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. For a stilled moment in time, she allowed herself to become part of him, to feel things she didn’t want to feel. Things that frightened her.

Then she regained her momentary loss of senses. She quickly pulled away from his embrace. A combination of excitement and panic raced through her body.

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Before she lost her nerve, Darvi whirled around to face him, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like some coffee or tea? It won’t take but a moment for me to fix it."

The surprise in his eyes gave way to pleasure. "I’d like that very much. Coffee, if that’s okay."

"Coffee it is. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back."

Darvi busied herself in the kitchen making coffee, gathering cups, and finding a serving tray to carry all of it. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she had let down her guard, allowed Rance into her personal domain for a nonbusiness purpose, had even been the one to suggest he stay for coffee. She knew if she stopped to consider her actions, she would ask Rance to leave, removing all temptation.

She paused for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Panic stabbed through her as she looked toward the studio where he waited. Temptation--exactly what he represented, an overwhelming temptation to which she must not succumb.

She glanced down at her hands, surprised by the way they trembled. Her eyes misted as she fought back the tears. I can’t become involved with him. I could never tell him about what happened. He would never understand about...

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She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then slowly exhaled. She finally started to speak, her words cloaked in defensiveness. "I had my life under control until I ran into you. I’m taking care of some simple errands and you turn it into a major confrontation over some stupid parking spot on a public street. You’ve been going out of your way to antagonize me at every opportunity. I know you wanted George to hire someone else to do the stained glass, but he hired me in spite of your objections. I have a signed contract. The least you can do is make an effort to be decent about it."

Her words caught him off guard. "I don’t have any--"

"I’m not a helpless little thing who cries at the drop of a hat. I’ve always been able to take care of myself, handle any situation that came along. You’re pushing me too hard, asking too much... demanding too much, things that have nothing to do with you or with this job. Things that are none of your business."

The tears welled in her eyes as her veneer began to crumble. "You apparently believe that I should just trust you because you say so even though you’ve done nothing to show me your sincerity or that you can actually be trusted. How do I know what your intentions are? Why should I believe that you will keep anything I say to you in confidence rather than using it to humiliate me? Stop pushing me so hard. It’s very difficult for me... very painful."

The arrogant Rance persona started to speak, the spontaneous outburst coming out as a harsh sound. "Pushing you? I haven’t--" The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat. His totally inappropriate reaction to what she said meshed with his own unspoken fears. He pulled her into his embrace as a mass of apprehension swirled around inside him. What to think... what to do... he didn’t have any answers. He stroked her hair as he thought over what she had said. He had no idea he had been pushing her that hard. Or that she harbored a secret so frightening for her that even what he thought of as teasing banter had been too painful for her to handle.

And her comment about not trusting him, fearing he would turn her secret against her in such a callous manner... He didn’t like hearing it, knew he would never do such a thing, but quickly realized why she would think it.