Before I Do Amazon (10 page)

"I don't think so."

"Why not? Did I throw too many gutter balls earlier?"

Kate laughed. "You did, but I think your guy just showed up. And I must admit he's dream-worthy."

Isabella turned her head to see Nick making his way through the bowling alley. Her stomach clenched with a nervous tingle and her heart started beating a little faster. He had on slim-fitting gray slacks that hugged his lean legs and a light blue shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. Even though this wasn't his usual turf, he walked with confidence and purpose, and she could see more than one woman pause to look at him. But Nick didn't notice. His gaze was on her.

As their eyes met, a smile curved his lips, and her palms began to sweat—so much for pretending this wasn't a date or that she wasn't interested in him in a purely feminine way and didn't want another taste of his sexy mouth.

She drew in a breath and told herself to get it together. He was just a man. And she was used to being close with men. She was a dancer. She was extremely comfortable with her body and being in close contact with other people. But Nick wasn't other people…

"Hi," he said in a husky voice. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's fine." She could hear conversation and laughter all around her, balls running down the alleys, pins clicking as they tumbled to the floor and the steady beat of music wafting through the air, but everything was hushed in her mind, as if the rest of the world was very far away.

She couldn't seem to stop staring at Nick, and he couldn't seem to stop staring back.

Then she felt someone nudge her back.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Kate asked.

She started, suddenly realizing that Kate was watching them with extreme interest. "Sorry. Nick Hunter, this is Kate Marlowe, one of my really good friends."

"Nice to meet you," Kate said, shaking his hand.

"You, too. It's your birthday, isn't it?"

"It is," Kate said in surprise.

"I'm sorry I don't have a present, but I'd love to invite you and some friends to have dinner in the restaurant at my hotel one night. I don't know if you've been Prescott's before, but I think you'd enjoy it."

"I'd love that," Kate said. "The restaurant has an amazing reputation."

"Isabella knows how to reach me. Just let me know a good day and for how many, and I'll make sure you get first-class service."

"Very generous of you." Kate paused. "I think the next game will be starting soon. You two should play."

"I'll show you where to get some shoes," Isabella said. "If you're planning to bowl, that is."

"That's why I'm here," he said.

"You look a little happier about bowling than you did about dancing," she told him as she led him over to the counter to pick up some shoes.

"I haven't done it in a while, but I remember being good enough not to embarrass myself."

"Lucky you. I think I'm the worst one out here."

"These shoes are definitely not what I remember wearing as a kid," Nick said a few minutes later as they sat down on a bench behind the lanes, and he laced up his bowling shoes.

The shoes were a mix of orange, red and lime green and definitely took Nick's sophisticated appearance down about twelve notches, but she liked his new look.

"They suit you," she said.

He gave her a doubtful look. "I know you like to put a positive spin on things, but that's a stretch, even for you, Isabella."

She smiled. "I'm really glad you came, Nick."

"Me, too."

The look that passed between them sent a shiver down her spine.

"Hey, Isabella, you're up." Liz's voice broke the tension between them.

Isabella was beginning to think she should have invited Nick to a private bowling date.

"I'm Liz Palmer, and you're Nick Hunter."

"I am. Have we met?"

"Not really, but I used to work for Damien, Falks and Palmer. We did some promotional work for the Grand View Towers a few years back."

"Of course. Is your father Ron Palmer?"

"He is."

"I remember him. How's he doing? I think I heard he was ill?" Nick ventured.

"He's better now, thanks. My family also stayed in your hotel in Hawaii last year. It was beautiful."

"That is one of my favorite properties," Nick said. "It's a little smaller than most of my hotels but the location is excellent."

"It was perfect. I can't wait to go back," Liz said.

"Let me know when you can make it over there again; I'll make sure you get a deal."

"Great. You two are up for the next game."

"You don't have to offer all my friends perks," Isabella said as they stood up. "Dinner for Kate—a hotel in Hawaii for Liz. What's next?"

"Maybe something for you?"

"You're already doing something for me."

"That's business. Perhaps something more personal."

She was surprised and a little unnerved by his statement. "We should get you a bowling ball," she said, changing the subject, because she really didn't know what to say to his comment.

"I can throw whatever is there. They're all the same to me."

"Okay, good. It looks like we're going up against my friend Julie and her fiancé, Matt Kingsley. He had a home game this afternoon so he actually gets to hang out with us on a Friday night, which is rare."

She took Nick over to meet the rest of her friends. He fit in quite well and was much warmer and friendlier than she'd thought he would be. She didn't know if he was putting on a face or if this was the real Nick, but she liked this version of him more than the one who showed up for tango lessons.

But as they started to bowl, the more serious, competitive side of Nick resurfaced. He took every throw quite seriously, frowning when he didn't get a strike or pick up a spare. She was just happy when her ball stayed out of the gutter.

While she had drive and determination when it came to dance, she didn't really care that much about other sporting activities. She preferred to just enjoy herself rather than get caught up in winning, but it was clear that Nick liked to win.

So did Matt Kingsley, Michael Stafford and Alex Donovan. Soon, the four men were caught up in their own game, each striving to come out on top while the women drank wine and cheered them on.

"Do you think they even know we're still here?" Andrea joked.

A dark-eyed brunette, Andrea had married Alex several months earlier, and while she was usually the most competitive of the females present, she'd mellowed since she'd gotten married.

"I doubt it," Liz said dryly. "Boys and their games."

"It's nice they're all getting along," Julie said. She gave Isabella a pointed look. "Nick fits in well."

"I know. I wasn't sure he would."

"Another reason to like him," Kate said, elbowing her in the side.

"You're into him, just admit it," Liz put in.

"Liz is right," Julie said. "You haven't stared at a guy this much in years."

"And he's definitely worth a stare," Andrea agreed. "You have good taste."

"Stop," she said. "He just came to bowl."

"And to spend time with you," Kate reminded her.

At Kate's words, Isabella couldn't help wondering why Nick had come. Was it just to be nice to her, keep her happy until he got her to Argentina? Or had there been another reason?

Well, it didn't really matter. She was going to stop analyzing and just enjoy the moment.

"One lousy pin," Nick said, coming over to her as their heated game ended. "I would have beaten Matt if that one damn pin hadn't stayed upright."

"There's always next time."

"I thought you were going to take me down, Nick," Matt said with a happy grin.

"You were too good for me."

"Please, don't make his head any bigger than it already is." Julie put an arm around Matt's waist. "You've had quite the day, Matt: a triple, a homerun, and now a bowling match. Do they call it a match?"

"I know they call it a win," Matt said with a laugh, giving Julie a quick kiss. "You're my lucky charm, babe."

"Well, your lucky charm needs something more substantial to eat than pretzels and popcorn. Anyone else up for some appetizers in the restaurant?"

A chorus of agreement followed Julie's words. After changing out of their bowling shoes they walked out to the restaurant. Isabella found herself squeezing into a big booth next to Nick. They talked and laughed, ate potato skins and chicken wings and drank their way through another carafe of wine.

A little before one, they made their way outside. After saying goodbye to her friends, she gave Nick a smile. "I'll get a cab home."

"I'll drive you. My car is just around the corner."

"Really? You found a parking spot nearby?"

"I got lucky."

"You seem to get lucky a lot," she commented as they walked down the street together.

"Actually, a buddy of mine owns the building with the parking structure and he gave me a pass to use when I go to the ballpark."

"Ah, so not exactly lucky."

He shrugged. "I guess not. Tonight was fun. Your friends are great. Not a pretentious one in the bunch. That was a nice change for me."

"Sounds like you need to mix up your social circle."

"I think that's what I was doing tonight," he said as they walked into the parking garage.

"I was a little surprised you agreed to come. Why did you?"

He paused by his car. "I seem to have trouble saying no to you."

"Really? I can't imagine why. A lot of people tell me no. As a dancer, I can't tell you how many times I've been rejected."

"Anyone who rejected you as a dancer had to be crazy."

"No, they just wanted something I didn't have. Casting directors can be brutal. They come back at you with harsh truths. Too short. Too tall. Too average. Bad feet. No style. Lacks expression. I've heard it all."

"You must have had to develop a thick skin."

"It did get pretty thick, but I'm human. No matter how much you tell yourself that it's just one person's opinion, sometimes the words sting." She waited for him to unlock her door, but he didn't seem in a hurry.

"Isabella," he began.

She gave him a wary look. "What?"

"You're beautiful and talented. Whoever said you weren't was wrong."

His words brought an emotional knot to her throat. "Thanks," she murmured.

He ran his finger down the side of her cheek surprising her with the tender gesture. "You asked me why I came tonight, and the truth is—I couldn't stop thinking about you. About what happened between us last night."

"That was an impulsive moment."

"I want to be impulsive again."

"It's not an impulse if you talk about it first," she said lightly.

He smiled. "Good point. Why don't I do this instead?" He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. This was no gentle caress but a demanding, possessive kiss from a man who was used to getting everything he wanted. And he obviously wanted her.

She'd never been one to hold anything back, but Nick stirred her emotions as well as her body, and that scared her. She wanted him, but she didn't want to have her heart broken, and she thought he might just have the power to do that.

So she'd pull away—in a second.

It was actually Nick who lifted his head first. He gazed down at her, his light blue eyes glittering in the shadowy parking garage.

She thought she should say something, but she didn't know what.

He seemed to have the same trouble coming up with words.

Finally, he said. "I should take you home."

She should have been relieved by his decision, but she felt restless and uncertain and a little annoyed that he seemed to think he was in charge. Then again, why wouldn't he feel in charge? He was always in charge.

"I'll get a cab," she said, pulling out her phone.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll drive you." He opened the car door. "Get in."

"Don't order me around," she snapped.

He sighed. "Isabella, what's going on?"

Frustration and sexual tension were the two answers that came to mind, but instead she said, ""You don't get to decide what happens between us. It's not just
your
decision."

He stared at her. "What do you want to happen?"

She really should have just gotten in the car and kept her mouth shut. After a tense moment, she said, "I want to go home."

"I guess we're on the same page after all."

After giving him her address, they didn't speak on the drive across town. She didn't know how they had gone from laughing and having fun together to being completely awkward. Actually she did know—it was that incredibly damned good kiss and both of their reactions to it. She was as much to blame as he was, because she wanted him but didn't want to act on that need, and maybe he felt the same way.

He pulled up in front of her building and turned off the car. "Isabella, I think we should clear the air, and I should apologize."

She sighed. "There's nothing for you to apologize for."

"Are you sure about that? You seem angry."

"I'm being stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," he said quietly. "I asked you before what you wanted. You didn't really answer me."

She met his gaze and couldn't give him anything but an honest answer. "I don't know, because you scare me a little, Nick."

"I would never hurt you, Isabella."

"You might not mean to, but I think you could."

"Or you could hurt me. Did you ever consider that?"

She hadn't, but even thinking about it now, she didn't believe that was possible. "I don't believe you'll let me get close enough to hurt you. But I would let you get close. I'd live in the moment, and open my heart, and when it ended I'd be unhappy."

"I thought you were the kind of woman who didn't worry about the future."

"I've been hurt before. I guess that tamed my free spirit. I'm more cautious now."

He nodded. "Why don't we just concentrate on being good dance partners for the next week?"

His practical words sounded good. "All right." She paused, her hand on the door. "Do you want to meet tomorrow?"

"I can do tomorrow evening if that works for you—around eight?"