Free Before I Do Amazon by Barbara Freethy Page B

might be why she wants to sell."
    "I know the business has been weighing her down and her heart is not in it anymore. That's why I need to take it over. And apparently you're going to help me do that, or are you already reconsidering your proposition?"
    He shook his head, thinking that investing in a small dance studio would barely be a blip on his financials. "Not at all. I told you I would consider investing in exchange for your agreement to go to Argentina."
    "Which does seem fairly incredible, since all I have to do is dance the tango for about five minutes."
    "But that tango gets me an incredible piece of property and will launch a five-star resort that will be unlike any other. It's all about money and value, Isabella. Life is about trade and negotiation."
    She frowned at his words. "I think life is about more than that, and I believe you do, too. You like to put yourself forward as a cold, unemotional, somewhat ruthless, obsessively determined businessman, but this photo shoots all that to hell. Because no one who is all the things I just said would keep a photo from a magazine that his mom cut out sixteen years ago."
    She had a point. He took the paper out of her hand and refolded it. Then he put it back into his wallet.
    "Just because you put it away doesn't mean it's not there anymore," she teased.
    "I'm aware that the photo is a weakness. I guess we all have one."
    "Sometimes more than one. I have many."
    "You're very honest, Isabella."
    "I try to be. It's not as exhausting being honest as attempting to be someone I'm not."
    He couldn't help thinking she was getting a little dig in, and maybe she was right. He did like to portray himself a certain way, and sometimes it was tiring, but it was worth it. He'd created a persona that investors wanted to invest in. He couldn't do what he did if he came across as sentimental or weak.
    "I should get back to the hotel," he said.
    "That's it? That's the end of our conversation?"
    "I have work to do."
    "And you don't want to admit that you have a softer side, do you?"
    "Softer sides don't work well in business."
    "They do in the tango."
    "I didn't see much softness when you and Ricardo danced."
    "Then you weren't looking close enough. Of course, there's the sharpness, the passion, the intensity, but as I told you before, it's a push-pull, it's a dance of contrasts, man and woman, hard and soft, passionate and tender."
    He found his body tightening at her words. Whenever Isabella talked about dancing the tango, he started imagining those same moves taking place in the bedroom.
    Clearing his throat, he said. "Let's walk back to the car."
    "Okay," she said, giving the harbor one last wistful look. "It's such a nice day. I hate to leave."
    He could relate, but he had work to do and he'd already told Isabella way too much about his past and his family. He needed to put some distance between them before he started forgetting exactly why he was with her.
     
    * * *
     
    As they drove back to San Francisco, Isabella thought about what Nick had told her. He'd surprised her by showing her the magazine photo, by talking about his mother and her dreams, his father and his coldness. She was starting to understand Nick a little better now. And she was quickly beginning to see that the man had a lot of layers.
    She wanted to unravel those layers, get to the core and see everything that he tried so hard to hide. He'd told her quite a bit, but she thought there was more. His father was still a mystery to her.
    Not being happy that his son hadn't followed in his footsteps didn't seem like a strong reason for the animosity and distance between Nick and his dad. Nick obviously resented his father for not taking his mother to her dream beach and for not being present in his life, but she still felt like there was a missing piece of the puzzle.
    She wasn't going to get any more out of him now, though. He'd shut down almost as quickly as he'd opened up. She couldn't really blame him. She didn't