Free Before I Do Amazon by Barbara Freethy

had so much to offer from the magnificent skyscrapers of downtown to the trendy condos at the waterfront, the narrow, steep hills of Nob Hill and Russian Hill, to the broader streets of the Haight and the Sunset. In San Francisco, neighborhoods and cultures changed every block from Chinatown to Japantown to the predominantly Italian North Beach. The once mostly Irish Mission district now belonged to the twenty-somethings, and the hipster generation was settling in high-rise buildings south of Market. There was literally something for everyone in this town.
    "I love this city," he murmured.
    "Me, too," Isabella said, turning to look at him. "What else do you love?"
    "What do you mean?"
    "What excites you? What gets you up in the morning?"
    "Making deals, increasing my net worth, growing my hotel chain." He knew she wouldn't like his answer. She wanted to hear something more soulful, but that's all he had.
    "When will it be enough? What does success look like, Nick?"
    He stared back at her, a little shaken by the question. "I don't know."
    "You've never thought about it?"
    "Not really. I still feel like I have a long way to go."
    "To do what? Prove you're the best? Own the most hotels? Have the most money?"
    "Those would all be good."
    "But life isn't a game of Monopoly. What else do you want? What about marriage and children?"
    "Possibly someday. I didn't grow up in the happiest of families, so I've never been in a rush to settle into some sort of long-term commitment. And not having had the greatest role model, I'm not sure I'd be a good husband or a father."
    "You're not your dad."
    "True."
    "You said he was disappointed when you didn't go into his business, but it sounds like there's more behind your estrangement."
    "I don't want to talk about him."
    "Well, I didn't want to talk about Carter, but I did. I'm trying to get to know you and let you get to know me. I think it will help us when we dance together."
    "That's a stretch."
    "If you won't tell me about your father, then tell me about this land in Argentina that you want so badly. There are a lot of beautiful places in the world. What is it about that piece of property that makes you willing to undergo something so traumatic and painful as learning the tango?"
    He smiled at her words. "You think I'm being overdramatic."
    "Yes. So answer my question."
    He debated for one long minute, then impulsively reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. From there he removed a folded piece of glossy paper. He opened it and handed it to her.
    She gave him a look of surprise, then glanced down at the magazine picture of a beautiful sandy beach, a hammock slung between two palm trees, miles of clear blue sea, and one lone sailboat on the horizon."
    "Is this the beach?" she asked.
    "It is. It was named one of the best beaches in South America."
    "The date on this page is from sixteen years ago." She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.
    "Yes, it is," he said evenly, mentally preparing himself for what would come next.
    She gazed into his eyes. "You've had this in your wallet for sixteen years?"
    "Not quite that long." He hadn't really given conscious thought to how many years he'd been working towards his goal. "It hasn't always been in my wallet. I put it there when I went to Argentina a few weeks ago."
    "What's the story behind this, Nick?"
    He drew in a breath and slowly let it out. He'd never been tempted to show anyone that picture. Not even Martin knew what had driven him to that land in Argentina, but there was something about Isabella that made him want to open up.
    "My mom cut that picture out of the magazine. She wanted to go there on vacation. She tried for a solid year to get my dad to take her there, but he was always too busy for a vacation. She told me once that she had the terrible feeling that if they didn't take that trip, their marriage would fall apart." His heart hardened at the memory. "But it wasn't their marriage that went bad; it was my mother's