Page 30 of High-Priority Asset

Chad squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what he’d have to do. Kill the interloper.

And cleanse Isabel of her sin.

On the deck, the two separated and Isabel pulled out her phone, then glanced at the screen. Her dog dashed out of the grass and ran around the pool, doing laps like it was racing around a track.

She snapped her fingers. The canine came to her and licked the man’s hand. He bent down, rubbing its head. Even the damn dog liked him.

They traipsed back inside the building with her arm linked around his.

Chad’s gaze slid to the third floor, to her apartment. He waited, growing still, the blood in his veins boiling, the leash slipping on the rage prowling inside him.

Finally, her lights came on and she entered her apartment. Alone. The inconvenient dog didn’t count.

She’d come to her senses and sent that piece of garbage on his way for the night.

But she had put Chad in a difficult position. Now he had to save Isabel from herself before she violated the sanctity of their union.

He had no choice but to punish her.

Because I love you, Isabel.

Necessary preparations had been made. He’d anticipated this day might come, and he was ready to remind her who was in charge.

Chapter Nine

The wind was mild, the sun bright, the waves cool and steady with a long swell period. Perfection conditions for Isabel’s first lesson, Dutch thought to himself.

He was in the water waist deep. Next to him, Isabel was on his board, wearing a provocative one-piece with a zipper down the front and cutouts on her waist. Her killer curves had been apparent from the formfitting clothes she wore, but in a swimsuit, her figure was jaw-dropping.

For an hour or so, they’d practiced on the sand, going over training footwork, teaching her how to pop up on the board and read the waves. Then they’d spent another hour in the water. Sitting on a surfboard seemed easy, but as Isabel discovered, it wasn’t. Simply something you had to learn, feel. Right along with falling over—a crucial part and inevitable for all, especially beginners—and paddling, a key to good surfing.

“Remember,” Dutch said, “when you’re riding on the board, bend your knees, not your back.”

She pushed her wet hair back from her face, focused on the water. “Okay.”

As a wave rolled in, Dutch positioned the board. “Go. Now.”

Isabel paddled like the devil to catch the wave, got up into a solid crouch, then stood and balanced.

Yes! She stood!

Even better, she rode that wave all the way to the shore.

Dutch marveled at how well she was doing on her first day. She had the potential to be good at it.

He whooped and cheered and encouraged her to try it again. They did a few more sets and took a break on the beach.

Isabel went to shower off and Dutch ran a towel over himself. He opened the cooler, took out the food he’d packed and set it on a blanket. Surfing always worked up his appetite. He figured it’d do the same for her.

She returned wearing sunglasses and a white cover-up over her bathing suit. Her skin was smooth and flawless. He loved her like this, carefree, no makeup besides a sheer lip gloss she’d applied. Not that she needed it with that natural rosy tint to her lips. She sat beside him, putting her tote bag down.

A breeze carried that divine scent of hers to him. Warm amber, floral and spice. “What perfume did you put on?”

“It’s a perfume oil.” She dug a delicate bottle out of the bag and showed it to him. “Marula Oil is the base, making it great for my hair and skin.”

He leaned over and ran his nose up her neck, inhaling deeply. Vetiver struck him this time, the scent reminding him of Indonesia and wading through the tall, fragrant grass on an assignment. “I really love it on you.”

“Then I’ll have to stock up.” As she was dropping the bottle back in her bag, the tote tipped over and a black baton rolled out.