Before I Do Amazon (6 page)

As he got up and walked around his massive desk to greet her, she couldn't stop the jolt of awareness that ran through her body. It was Saturday, but he still wore work clothes, charcoal gray slacks and a button-down shirt with a light plaid print. His only concession to the weekend was the lack of a tie.

He was so attractive with his dark hair and light blue eyes. His strong jaw spoke to his determined will, and his lips reminded her of the passion they'd shared the night before. But that passion simmered beneath a very cool and controlled exterior. She didn't know Nick very well, but she sensed that he was a complicated man. She tried to tell herself that was why he wasn't
her
kind of man, but that would mean that rich, attractive, successful businessmen were not her type, and that sounded foolish even in her own head.

"Isabella," he said in his beautifully male baritone. "You made it."

"I know I'm a few minutes late, but you really didn't give me that much time."

"Short notice, I'm aware, but I didn't want you to miss this opportunity."

"I appreciate that." She paused. "This office is really nice."

"The perks of being the owner. Why don't you sit down for a moment?"

"I thought you were in a hurry."

"There's something I want to talk to you about first. You should sit."

His suggestion made her nervous, but she followed him over to a cozy seating area, sitting down on the sofa while he sat in the adjacent chair. He drew in a breath and let it out, a frown of uncertainty drawing his brows together.

"Well?" she asked.

"I have a proposition for you."

"That sounds ominous."

"It's not really."

"Then why is it taking you so long to speak?"

He acknowledged her point with a tip of his head. "Okay, here it is. As you know I have to dance the tango in Argentina a week from tomorrow. I'm going to need a partner, and I'd like that person to be you."

Her stomach turned over. "You want me to go to Argentina with you?" That was a crazy and terrible idea.

"Yes. I'll pay for your trip. First-class flight, luxury accommodations, extra days to travel if you want. And I'll also pay you well for your time."

She could barely take in the details. This invitation wasn't just about accompanying Nick on a business trip; it was about Argentina. He was going to her birthplace, to the country where her father still lived—the father she hadn't seen in over a decade. An emotional knot filled her throat. "I don't think so."

"Don't answer so quickly," Nick said. "Let's talk about it."

"I don't think there is anything to talk about."

"Oh, but there is. In exchange for your accompanying me to Argentina and being my dance partner, I'm prepared to offer you space in the ballroom for your dance classes for the next month at no charge." He paused. "I would also be happy to discuss investing in your studio. There might be a way we can work out a loan arrangement that will allow you to buy the studio from your aunt. That, however, would require some further research, so I can't guarantee an investment, but I would be willing to talk to you about it."

"You're pulling out all the stops." She felt overwhelmed by his offer.

"I know what I want, and I know how to get it," he said forcefully.

"If you were going anywhere else, I would have already said yes. But you're going to Argentina. I told you about my father, about his absence in my life. The memories I have of my home country are bittersweet and painful. I don't think I can go back there, not for any amount of money in the world or because of your enticing offer."

Even as she said the words, she wondered what the hell she was doing. The man was offering to solve all her problems for one short trip to Argentina and one even shorter dance.

"You don't have to see your father," Nick said. "It's a big country. He won't know you're there unless you want him to know."

"I wouldn't want to see him."

Nick stared back at her. "Are you sure about that?"

"Pretty sure. Of course I've thought about it, but I always came to the conclusion that it would be a mistake to reconnect with him. He deserted me. Maybe he had reasons to divorce my mother, but he should have tried to stay in my life."

"Staying in your life isn't the same thing as being a father."

There was a hard note in his voice now, and she saw something in his eyes that surprised her. He was very good at hiding his emotions, but there was a flicker of pain behind his words. "Are you close to your father?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No."

"But he's in your life?"

"If you're asking if he and my mother stayed together, the answer is yes. But if you're asking if I grew up in a happy family and had a great relationship with the man who fathered me, the answer is no. I've been Thomas Hunter's greatest disappointment."

"How is that possible? Look at you. Look at what you've accomplished."

"It's not what my father wanted. He wanted me to take over his business—he's a venture capitalist and runs a successful financial firm. I chose to go my own route. He wasn't happy about that."

"What about your mother? Are you close with her?"

"My mother died when I was eighteen."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. Let's get back to you. I need you, Isabella. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get you."

For a split second, she wished he needed her for more than a dance partner, but that was a foolish thought. This hard, driven man was not the kind of man she wanted in her life. He thought he could buy people. He hated emotion. He was all about money. They were as different as two people could be.

Yet, there was something they shared, a disappointment in their relationships with their fathers. It was a tenuous connection, but she related to the pain she'd heard in his voice earlier. Nick knew something about not being loved the way he'd wanted to be. And so did she.

"Isabella?" he pressed.

"I don't know."

"If you're worried that what happened last night might happen again, I can assure you that it won't. I will respect your boundaries."

She hadn't been worried about him trying to kiss her again, but now that he'd mentioned it, he'd just given her another reason to say no. The attraction between them would probably only grow with more time spent together. And that attraction couldn't lead anywhere.

"Let me think about it," she said finally.

It was clearly not the answer he wanted, but he reluctantly accepted it. "All right. I'll show you the ballroom. That might change your mind."

As they went down in the elevator together, she felt like she couldn't quite get her balance. While her body was in San Francisco, her mind was in Argentina.

Should she reconsider her quick refusal?

Her mother would not like to see her go to Argentina, and out of respect to her mom and all the hard work she'd put in over the years to give her a happy life, she should stick to her original decision.

On the other hand, she was an adult now, and if she wanted to reconnect with her father, she should be able to do that.

"Isabella, are you coming?" Nick asked, his hand holding the elevator doors open.

"Yes," she said, suddenly realizing that they'd arrived at the Mezzanine level.

The ballroom was just a few yards away from the elevator and as they stepped through the double doors, she was once again blown away by the size and the opulence of the room.

"It's huge," she murmured.

"We can close it off to a quarter of this size and install a hardwood floor. Mirrors and possibly a ballet barre could be rented."

"Yes, they could," she murmured, thinking that the space would be perfect, and the price was definitely right.

She turned to face him. "What if I don't go to Argentina with you? Does this all go away?"

He hesitated. "No. I'll still let you use the room for four weeks. But you won't get the cash for accompanying me on the trip, and I won't be able to invest in your studio."

He was still being extremely generous.

"I really want you to think about my offer," he continued. "You don't have to see your father. It's a big country. I seriously doubt you'll run into him."

"I'm not worried about running into him. I'm worried about
wanting
to run into him."

He met her gaze. "Maybe that would be good. You could get closure."

"I don't need closure. I need distance."

"You've had distance," he reminded her.

"And why would I want to change that?" she asked, feeling herself weakening. Over the years, she'd definitely thought about her homeland, and not just her father. She had some special memories of her time there. Did she dare to go back?

What was she so afraid of? She didn't have to see her father or any of her relatives. No one would know she was there. And it would be a short trip.

If she said yes, a lot of her problems would be solved. Was she really going to let her father steal anything else away from her? What would she be proving by staying away? That she was too scared to be in the same country as him? That was unacceptable.

"All right," she said. "I'll go."

Relief flooded his gaze. "You're sure?"

"Yes, but I want everything in writing, at least about the dance space and my salary for the trip."

"I'll have an agreement drawn up this weekend. You won't be sorry."

"I hope not, but I have to be honest, my stomach is churning right now. I feel a little sick."

"Maybe you're hungry. I haven't had breakfast. Have you?"

"No, because someone demanded I get down here in thirty minutes."

He offered an apologetic smile. "Let me buy you breakfast. I know a good place not too far from here."

"Not far from here?" she echoed. "I'm surprised you wouldn't take me to the hotel restaurant."

"It is excellent, but I have somewhere else in mind if you're game."

"Lead the way." If she was going to trust him to take her to Argentina, she could trust him with choosing a place to eat.

He held the ballroom door open for her and gave her a warm smile as she passed through. Since she'd agreed to go to Argentina with him, he'd visibly relaxed.

Maybe she'd have a chance to get to know the real Nick over breakfast. It might help her figure out how to get him to loosen up and embrace the tango. If he did let down his guard, he might be amazing.

There was a lot simmering beneath the surface of Nick Hunter. She just wondered if she was brave enough to go digging.

Chapter Six

Nick took Isabella down to the garage where his silver Mercedes convertible awaited. Once inside, he lowered the top and said, "It's a beautiful day. We might as well enjoy it."

"Sounds good to me," she said, as he drove out of the garage. "I must say I didn't really expect you to drive a convertible." She grabbed a band out of her bag and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

He liked that he'd surprised her, because he knew her opinion of him wasn't that high. He couldn't blame her. He'd been a stiff-necked ass the last twenty-four hours, but now that she'd agreed to go to Argentina with him, he felt like he might actually be able to dance the tango and buy the land he wanted so badly.

"What kind of car do you drive?" he asked.

"I don’t have a car at the moment. My apartment building charges a lot for parking spaces, so I take the bus or use a car service. It's a lot easier now that I don't have to stand out in the street and flag down a taxi. I can just go on my phone and call the nearest car."

"Technology eases our lives once again," he murmured.

"So where are we going?" she asked as he drove down a steep hill toward the bay.

"Sausalito. A friend of mine owns a café on the water. She makes incredible waffles."

"Friend as in girlfriend?" she asked curiously.

"Friend as in friend."

"It's hard to believe you're single and unattached. What's wrong with you?" she teased.

"I've been told I'm too dedicated to work, not sensitive enough, and very unforthcoming with personal details."

"Well, at least you have some self-awareness," she said dryly. "Do you agree with that assessment?"

"I have been all those things," he admitted. "Building my business has not left me a lot of time for personal relationships. I've been a bad date and a worse boyfriend. So it's not really that surprising I'm single."

"Don't you want more in your life than just a business? I doubt your hotels will keep you warm at night."

"Someday, but not today. Surely, you can understand that. All of your goals appear to be business related."

"That's a good point."

"So what about you?" He shot her a quick look. "Why are you still single?"

"Well, I'm not as old as you are, for one thing," she said with a laugh. "I'm only twenty-seven. I have plenty of time."

"I'm not that far ahead of you at thirty-three."

"You've really accomplished a lot for your age, Nick. I looked you up online last night, and your credentials are quite impressive."

"You looked me up?"

She gave an unrepentant shrug. "I like to know who my students are. I have to say, while I learned a great deal about your business, there wasn't much about you. I guess your former girlfriends kept their criticisms private. Aside from a few photos of you and super models, there wasn't much personal information."

"Like I said, I'm busy—so busy the tabloids can't keep up with me."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to have to dodge the press."

"It's not fun to have camera flashes going off in your face and any woman you happen to stand next to proclaimed as the new love of your life."

"Fame and money come with a cost."

"They do," he said, and he wasn't just talking about the press.

Isabella gave a little sigh as he drove over the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Look at the view." She waved her hand toward the bay. "You can see forever; nothing but blue sky and blue water."

"I'll take your word for it," he said, focusing on the Saturday traffic to Sausalito.