Page 5 of High-Priority Asset

Not so long ago, men such as him, quintessential bad boys, had been her catnip. It was always exciting and fun in the beginning, and inevitably short-lived and a major disappointment. Every bad boy had been a bad decision, but none had ever made her fear for her life.

The one time she decided to give a corporate guy a try, a respectable businessman, he ended up being her worst nightmare.

The stranger lifted her left leg and glanced at her foot.

Instinctively, Isabel adjusted her skirt, making sure she didn’t flash him.

“Have no fear and don’t let my appearance fool you. My mom raised me better than to look up any woman’s dress. Unless I’ve been invited to first.” His voice was suggestive, his lips twisting in a teasing grin.

Brushing off the sole of her foot, he inspected the skin, using the utmost care and a gentle touch. His tenderness caught her off guard. She wondered what other surprises this man had hidden beneath his devastating exterior.

“What’s wrong with your appearance?” she asked.

“Nothing. In my humble opinion.”

“I bet you’re many things, but I doubt humble is one of them.”

A laugh slipped past his full lips. The sound was rough and masculine, almost musical. “There are plenty who’d agree with you.” His eyes flicked up, meeting hers. “I thought with the fancy gallery, you might draw certain assumptions about my tattoos, my boots.”

Her gaze dropped to his worn-in riding boots. He was a biker.

Where was his helmet?

Only fools didn’t wear one and there wasn’t anything foolish about this man.

“I like the tattoos.” She liked the whole package. “You have a certain je ne sais quoi that outshines what you’re wearing.”

His grin spread.

Stop flirting. She’d sworn off men for a year after messing with...him.

Six months to go.

“Or maybe stopping that guy and getting my purse back earned you a free pass in the judgment department,” she added.

Another laugh, richer, deeper as their gazes locked. Warmth spread through her, tickling her ribs.

“Well, losing money and having to cancel your credit cards is always a bummer.”

“It wasn’t about that. My father gave me this.” Memories washed over her as she clutched the bag in her lap. “The last present from him before he died when I was fourteen.”

“Sorry. About your dad. Never easy losing a parent. And teenage girls need their dads a lot. My younger sister Wendy turned into a hellion after our dad passed away. Heart attack. I tried to fill in for him where I could, but...” He shrugged.

“My uncle and I are very close, and he tries to do the same. Play dad.” She loved her uncle dearly for his efforts and didn’t know what she’d do without him. “But it isn’t the same.”

He nodded; the understanding in his eyes was comforting. “You told me your assistant’s name, but not yours.”

“Isabel. Vargas.”

“Dutch Haas.”

“Is Dutch your real name?”

“No.” He lowered his eyes for a beat. “It’s Horatio.” He cocked a brow as if waiting for her to judge.

“Don’t worry. I told you that you earned a free pass.” With her joke, his features lightened. “Were you named after Horatio Hornblower, or the character from Hamlet, or a relative?”

He waved a finger at her. “Fierce, beautiful and well-read. I think you might be the perfect woman.”