“Why did you buy a junkyard?” That seemed beneath his family pedigree.
He shrugged. “I’m an Atlas. It’s mandatory we own our own business by the time we’re twenty-one.”
Well, that was one way to instill the entrepreneurial spirit in the offspring of one of the wealthiest families in America. “But why work, when your whole family is richer than Donald Trump?”
He glanced at her with a stupefied expression as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Why wouldn’t I work?”
A self-made man to the core, she thought with appreciation. She respected that he’d chosen to work his way up in sales—from a junkyard to the largest Harley-Davidson dealership in Nevada—instead of riding on his family’s lucrative coattails.
Intrigued, she watched him open the door of their room, position the nail file at the edge of the top hinge, and then close the door with careful precision. “When you sold your dealership, why didn’t you retire, rather than coming to Denver to work for Soren Security?”
“There’s a Russian saying that translates to something like, ‘work until you drop.’ If you’re asking why I decided to make the shift to more of a desk job, I was looking for a change, a new challenge. Selling vehicles didn’t give me that anymore. My brother Jake made the transition first, buying the Sorens’ bounty hunter business. He inspired me, made me reevaluate some things. That’s how I ended up there, and here, with you.”
What Isaac didn’t tell her was that when the Sorens offered him a job as their sales director, and he’d shown up in Denver to discuss the option, he’d met Mindy. Everything about her had set off fireworks inside him. He’d made his choice within the hour. But that was something couples talked about once their relationship was established. One of those stories of fate, lightning striking, that married people told their friends at dinner parties when someone asked, “How did you two meet?” He wasn’t about to launch into those details when he hadn’t even kissed her yet.
After she’d been terrorized, he wasn’t going to make a pass at her, even though she’d spend the night next to him in bed. A fantasy he’d carried with him for a long time, but not one he could explore tonight.
A renewed sense of frustration lit his veins with a fire he couldn’t quench. He’d patiently waited for the perfect time to take her face in his hands and taste her lips beneath his. If he’d waited this long, he could handle another twenty-four hours of looking without touching.
Ignoring the desire pulsing in his blood, he sighed and went to the nearest side table. It seemed to be the right height to wedge under the door handle, but it missed by an inch. So he grabbed the chair at the small desk and propped it at an angle beneath the handle.
Then he stepped back to demonstrate. “First, we’ll hear the scrape and snap of the nail file, then the thud of the door hitting the chair. I’m not a deep sleeper. By the time this system comes into play, I’ll jump out of bed and stand here like this.”
He unplugged the floor lamp, clutched it in his fists like a baseball bat, and stood against the wall beside the bed. He drew the makeshift weapon back over his shoulder.
“If they manage to get past the chair, while you’re calling security I’ll be taking a swing. They’ll never see me coming.” He followed through with a slow-motion arc as he stepped around the corner and pretended to bash someone’s face in with the lamp. “No one will get to you. I swear it.”
“Thank you, Isaac.” Reasons why she should fall hard for him continued to stack up in his favor. Her emotions had practically built a shrine dedicated to him. How would she get through this week without caving in to temptation?
Although, if she worked up the nerve to make an advance, and he shot her down, she’d never be able to look him in the eyes again without feeling the burn of humiliation. If by some miracle they landed this sale, the Sorens might send them on other trips together. And if her attraction to him wasn’t mutual, that would make for the most awkward interactions.
Until he showed her undeniable proof that he felt the same spine-tingling attraction she did, she’d keep her hope and desires to herself. Another Helenism reared up from her subconscious. “The greatest risks are only worth taking when you know you’ll win.” But then it wouldn’t be a risk, would it? Her brain hurt contemplating the options of what to do with Isaac. She couldn’t think about it anymore tonight.
“God, I’m tired.” Depleted on every level, she closed her heavy lids and fell back against the pillow.