THAT’S MY YOUNGER SISTER,” ÍSA said, relieved. She didn’t know why she’d done that, given Sailor a key into one of her deepest vulnerabilities… as if he’d hear her, as if he’d understand her. “I better answer it.”

Sailor was still scowling when she raised the phone to her ear and began to walk back to her car. “Catie? Is everything all right? You got the money?”

“Yes, I paid all the bills,” her little sister said. “But Dad hasn’t been home since he got into my account.”

Ísa didn’t immediately panic. “Is Martha with you?”

“You know Mrs. M. would never abandon me,” was the outwardly upbeat response that struggled to hide Catie’s worry. “I just… Can you see if you can find out where Dad is? So I know he’s okay?”

Ísa rubbed at her heart, hurting for her little sister. Catie kept on loving Clive even though he let her down over and over again. Ísa often thought that what Clive was doing to Catie was worse than what Jacqueline and Stefán had done to Ísa. At least being ignored came with a sense of certainty that eliminated hope. Clive, by contrast, showed Catie just enough care to keep her hopeful that, next time, he’d act more like her father and less like an overindulged child.

“Of course I can,” Ísa said in response to her sister’s halting request. “I’ll call you back tonight.”

“Thanks, Issie.”

Hanging up, Ísa got into her car and began to go through her list of Clive’s friends—she’d collected their names and numbers over the years for exactly such a situation. It took her a half hour to track him to a casino in Sydney, Australia.

Leaving the country without telling his daughter?

That was a new low even for Clive.

When she got him on the phone, he was full of apologies that she knew were meaningless. Clive was from her mother’s “pretty arm candy” phase.

“Martha’s so dependable,” he said, all warm bonhomie. “I have total faith in her. I’d never have left my little girl otherwise.”

“Call her,” Ísa ordered, channeling the Dragon, her tone blasting Clive with fire. “If you don’t, I swear I’ll report you for child endangerment. Imagine what that’ll do to your credit line.” Because that was the only thing about which Clive appeared to care.

“Sure, sure, sure. No need to get tough, Ísa. I’ll call her right now.”

“I’m going to check with her in five minutes to make sure.”

She was sitting in the driver’s seat waiting for those minutes to pass when there was a knock on her window. Jumping for the second time that day, she glanced up to see Sailor on the other side, his forehead scrunched in lines that could’ve either been concern or anger.

Ísa didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with the man right then. He reached too deep into her without even trying, was dangerous to her dreams. But, given that he was also as stubborn as a goat and still staring at her, his jaw getting increasingly more set, she rolled down the window and said, “I had to deal with a family thing,” before he could ask her why she was still sitting in the parking lot as the world went dark around them.

“Is it done?” Sailor asked. “I won’t leave you here alone.”

Something tight uncurled inside her, and she didn’t know what it was. Ísa wasn’t used to someone looking after her. The thought was ludicrous. She’d been looking after everyone since before she could drive. But Sailor was giving the distinct impression that he wasn’t about to budge until she did.

Right then she didn’t feel like just a distraction. An annoyance maybe… but an annoyance important enough to make him alter his own plans. “Who made you the Ísa police?” The cool words just fell out of her mouth.

As the vase had once been thrown from her hands.

He made a distinct growling sound. “My truck’s not budging until you drive out of here, spitfire, so stop trying to scare me off.”

Ísa scowled back at him even though the fluttering, mushy thing inside her was getting worse. He was really going to stay. Even though he was clearly tired after a long day of hard, physical work. “I’m nearly done.” Her phone rang in her hand even as she spoke.

It was Catie on the other end, ecstatic that her father had gotten in touch.” Thank you, Issie,” she said on a delighted laugh. “I knew you’d do it.”

Happy for her sister but worried about how many times she’d have to do this before Catie was old enough to move out and have an independent life free of a father who was, quite frankly, a charming parasite, she said the words her sister needed to hear, then hung up.

“All done,” she told Sailor, the vulnerable mushiness inside her terrifyingly close to the surface. “You can go home with a clear conscience.”

And still he didn’t leave.

Reaching out, he rubbed gently at her forehead as if rubbing away a frown. “Have you eaten, spitfire?”

Ísa tried to bring his actions down to the physical, to the erotic tension that simmered between them, and failed. There’d been too much tenderness in his question, in his touch. “I was going to pick up takeout on the way home,” she said, terrified in a way she’d never before been terrified.

If he kept acting this way, how was she supposed to keep from falling for him? For this twenty-three-year-old man with huge dreams and an ambition to match? A man who wouldn’t be ready to settle down for probably a decade yet, when a stable home was all that Ísa had ever wanted to build.

She couldn’t wait ten years. It would destroy her.

And she could never be with a man for whom his business was his priority.

She should start her engine and drive as far from him as possible.

Brushing his knuckles over her cheek, the affectionate action freezing her in place as surely as if he’d placed those handcuffs of his on her wrists, Sailor glanced at his truck. “I’ve got to drop Jake home. But after that I was planning to go to my place and throw a fish steak on the grill, then work on the updated quote.”

Ísa looked up, met his eyes.

It was a mistake.

Because his smile was a light in the blue as he said, “I could make that two fish steaks and you could help me with the quote.” Another brush of his knuckles. “It’ll go much faster if my demanding boss is right there to tell me what expenses she won’t authorize.”

Ísa knew she shouldn’t. This was shaping up to be a horrible, horrible mistake. But no man had ever smiled at her that way, as if having Ísa with him was the best thing he could imagine. As if she was his version of rocky road ice cream and chocolate cake combined. She knew it was an illusion, that Sailor Bishop was probably just very good at charming women, but she said, “That sounds nice.”

Maybe a woman had to make that horrible mistake before she finally learned her lesson.

“Here’s my address.” Sailor tapped it into her phone. “Meet you there in forty minutes?”

When Ísa nodded, he rose, patting the top of her car. “Drive safe, spitfire. We’ll follow you out.”

That strange feeling in her stomach again at the idea of Sailor watching over her.

Ísa didn’t know what to do about it, how to process it.

So she just drove out, waving at Sailor when they split in different directions at the road. Since there was no point going home, she decided to head to a large grocery store that she knew was open till ten. Sailor was fixing dinner, so the least she could do was pick up dessert.

Once inside the brightly lit store, the aisles wide and mostly empty at this time of the evening, she found herself just standing by the row of freezers. Lost. Uncertain. She was never more glad to hear her phone jingle with a cheerful Bollywood song.

“Nayna, I’m so glad you called!”

An older man with a mass of stiff gray hair gave her a censorious look from the ice cream section. As if the grocery store turned into a library at night.

Ignoring him, Ísa walked over to the cheesecake section with the phone to her ear. “Why do you sound like you’re hyperventilating?”

“My parents have set up another date for me—he’s coming by tonight!” Nayna wailed. “I’ve been rethinking the whole arranged-marriage situation, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to my parents. And I just got home and now I can’t get out of this meeting without making them lose face and I’m hiding in the bathroom!”

“You did say today?” It was already past eight thirty.

“In ten minutes! He works long hours too.” Nayna sounded like she was breathing into a paper bag now. “My dad called me at work and told me to be home by eight thirty for a surprise. This isn’t a surprise! It’s a nightmare!”

Ísa forgot about the cheesecake and turned to pace to the other end of the refrigerated-goods aisle. “All right, don’t panic.” She thought quickly. “Just do the same thing you did with the other five. Tell your folks you have nothing in common with him and can’t see a marriage working out.”

“The other five were asses.” More paper-bag breathing. “My family didn’t like them either. What if this guy isn’t an ass and my parents and grandmother love him?” Nayna’s tone was becoming increasingly more agitated. “What if I’m trapped in a marriage I don’t want?”

“Look,” Ísa said to her smart best friend who was usually the most practical and calm person in the room. “This is your life. Your family can’t force you to the altar.”

“I love them, Ísa.” A soft confession. “No matter what, I love them. I can’t be like Madhuri and risk being cut off.”

Ísa understood the complex ties of family and love, understood that sometimes it was impossible not to be bound even when you knew the tie was unhealthy. “How about if…” Ísa snapped her fingers. “Say that during your private talk, you discovered that he’s a little dim in the brain department.”

Ísa felt bad for plotting against some poor, hardworking man, but Nayna came first. “Knowing your folks, he’s likely to have a degree or two, so maybe also hint that perhaps all isn’t kosher there. Or that you got the impression he barely scraped by.”

“Oh God, you’re a genius, Ísa!” The sound of the paper bag being scrunched up. “My parents are already planning for grandchildren with doctorates—a less-than-intelligent son-in-law will not do.”

Having returned to the cheesecake section, Ísa said, “You better go get ready.”

“That won’t take me long. I’m not exactly going to go all out.” Nayna’s tone brightened. “In fact, I think I’ll wear that pale pink outfit that makes me look like a brown wraith. What are you doing?”

“Trying to choose between boysenberry cheesecake and passion fruit cheesecake.”

“Are you eating cheesecake without me?” A glare in the words.

“I’m making a horrible mistake, that’s what I’m doing,” Ísa admitted. “I’m having dinner with Sailor at his place.”

“The hot gardener?”

“Yes.”

“Do it, Ísa.” Nayna’s voice was suddenly quiet, potent. “I’ve played it safe my whole life, and now I feel like I’m going to shatter if I don’t spread my wings. Take a chance. Make that mistake. Even if it hurts… At least you’ll have lived instead of being driven by fear.”

And that was the heart of it: fear.

Of rejection.

Of hurt.

Of not being enough to hold his attention.

---

NOT LONG AFTERWARD, RIGHT ON the dot of when she’d promised to meet Sailor, and Ísa still couldn’t believe she was about to do this.

Sailor was just getting out of his truck when she brought her car to a stop on the street outside his apartment. He’d parked on the street too. It looked like his apartment was one of those converted townhouses that didn’t have a garage. Most people who lived in this area likely didn’t care since they worked in the city and didn’t bother to keep a vehicle, but with Sailor…

“Aren’t you worried about your truck?” she asked after stepping out of her own car. “You’ve got equipment in the back.”

He indicated a standalone, old-fashioned garage with a peaked roof that she’d assumed belonged to the neighboring property. “I rent that as well,” he said. “But it’s too old to have an electronic door, so I have to go and push it up before I move my truck inside.”

As she watched, he jogged over to unlock the garage. “Sorry for the wait,” he said after coming back to the truck. “This will only take a minute.”

“I don’t mind,” Ísa said.

Shooting her a smile that made the butterflies in her stomach take flight all over again despite the fear knotted around her spine, he backed his truck expertly into the garage, then got out and locked up.

He was beside her seconds later, his big body making her want to curl into him.

“Let me grab that.” He took the grocery bag she’d been holding. In his other hand, he held a bag filled with what looked like lettuce and possibly cucumbers. “From my mother’s garden,” he said after catching the glance. “She’d kill me dead if I dared buy salad stuff.” Moving both bags to one hand, he took her the three steps to the front door, unlocked it with a key code.

“The place is separated into four apartments,” he told her after following her inside, his hand touching her on her lower back for a moment that made her breath catch. “Honestly, the apartments are a little small, but because they’re so small, the four of us get it for a good rental for this part of town.”

Taking her hand in a warm and callused grip that felt dangerously possessive, he tugged her up the stairs. “Downstairs, both men work for an airline company and are on rotating shifts, so some months I see them, others they’re ghosts. Upstairs, it’s me and a city type whose hours hardly overlap with mine since I start with the light and end with it while he starts and finishes later.”

“All men?” Ísa said. “Was that on purpose?” An immature part of her did a little booty dance because the idea of Sailor sleeping in close quarters with another woman just rubbed her wrong.

Yes, she was in big, BIG trouble.

“No.” Sailor unlocked his own door using a key. “Just turned out that way. Welcome to my humble abode.”

Ísa walked in on curious feet. When she saw him kicking off his boots by the door, she toed off her kitten heels as well. Seeing what she’d done, Sailor grinned. “Cute toes, spitfire. But don’t worry about the shoes. I just take off my boots because they tend to get filthy over the course of the day.”

“It’s not a problem.” Ísa was itching to explore every inch of his private space. “I like feeling the carpet under my feet.” That carpet led into a small living area, beyond which was an equally small balcony. To the left was a kitchenette that looked out into the living area over a breakfast counter while to the right was a corridor with three doors that opened off it.

Ísa assumed those to led to Sailor’s bedroom and the facilities and maybe a closet.

Devil Ísa whispered for her to invite herself to explore. Clothing optional.

She was glad for the cool air coming from outside when, after putting the groceries on the counter, Sailor opened the balcony doors.

“It’s not much,” he said. “Certainly not what you’re probably used to. But it works okay for me.”

And Ísa’s brain clicked.