Free One Man Rush by Joanne Rock

that. “Point taken.”
    “Oh.” Her voice hitched and she cleared it, her hold on him loosening. “Yeah. Okay. I think I see my van.” She pointed toward another Caravan in the back row of the lot, far from where they’d started out. She pulled her cell phone from her bag with one hand and studied the screen.
    Apparently, she’d finished conversing with him. Maybe he’d offended her when he said he didn’t talk much.
    Then again, why would someone sent to learn his secrets allow herself to be offended? Shouldn’t she keep up her chatty patter to try to see him again? Talk her way into his house or his office? His bed?
    He was bizarrely disappointed she didn’t at least try. She was the most interesting thing to happen to him in months. But maybe she knew he wasn’t fooled by her act. Had she really expected him to buy her story that she’d confused his vehicle for hers when she hadn’t even tried to park in the same vicinity?
    Isaac guided her down the row of cars to the van with fat rhinestones around the license plate. Yeah, no way she would mistake that girly grill for his.
    “I can give you a hand getting in.” He steadied her while she searched for her keys, feeling strangely guilty for her retreat into quietness.
    He should be grateful that he was sending her on her way, damn it. Releasing her, he saw a glint of tears on one cheek. Did her foot hurt that much? She clutched the cell phone to her chest as she came up with the keys.
    Maybe she’d realized how badly she’d bobbled the task of spying on him. Steeling himself for whatever sob story excuse she might concoct to go home with him, he simply pointed toward her keys and ignored the tears.
    “Would you like me to open your van and start it up for you?” Now who was the chatty one?
    “That’s okay.” Hobbling forward, she jingled a noisy assortment of keys and plastic cartoon characters, most of which were painted pink and covered in glitter. Then, unlocking her vehicle, he noticed a fairy air freshener swinging from the radio knob. And someone had modified the glove compartment so that every inch was covered in rhinestones. She’d taken a lot of time with the details in creating a cover as an ultra-feminine bombshell.
    But even now that the door was open, she didn’t move.
    “You’re all set.” He prodded, memorizing her license plate so he could have his security team investigate her tomorrow.
    “My matchmaker just quit,” she blurted, swiping away the tears on her cheeks. “My father is going to use his own and try to buy a man for me.”
    Whatever ploy Isaac had been prepping for, it hadn’t been that. A matchmaker?
    Standing on one foot, she took off her shoe and planted her injured heel on the ground.
    “Be careful,” he warned. “There could be glass—”
    “I don’t need help.” Stacy turned on him fiercely, pausing in her hobbled progress into her vehicle. “Doesn’t he get that? I need to figure out who to trust on my own and if I make a mistake along the way, that’s how I’ll learn. Can I help it if I figure things out the hard way?”
    She started hopping again, her breasts threatening to break free of the neckline a little more each time. But given how upset she seemed, he didn’t take the same pleasure in the show.
    “Can I—” He reached to help her again.
    “No.” Collapsing into the driver’s seat, she tucked the skirt around her thighs. “I put myself on the line for the first time ever to ask a guy out tonight, and you thought it was so ludicrous an idea you didn’t even take me seriously. Another hint that I suck at dating, I guess. But I’m not giving up.”
    Huh?
    She started the van and hauled her door shut, leaving him to scratch his head. Whatever had just happened here, Stacy Goodwell didn’t behave like any corporate spy he’d ever met.
    Rolling down her window, she seemed to be gearing up to rant at him more but he beat her to the punch.
    “You asked me out?” Funny, because he’d