Read Online Tempted by His Target by Jill Sorenson - Free Book Online

line of questioning. He wisely refrained. “I was worried about getting stranded on an open stretch of road, with no trees around to hide the cab.”
    He examined the highway, which was lined with lush greenery.
    Isabel clenched her hand into a fist. “If you wanted to call the shots, maybe you should have stayed awake.”
    A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Fair enough.”
    But she wasn’t being fair, and she knew it. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m just tired, and hungry, and…”
    …not used to being shot at, or depending on strangers.
    Although she didn’t say that last part out loud, he seemed to understand where she was coming from. His face relaxed and they continued moving forward. “I’m hungry, too. What do you want to eat when we get there?”
    She shrugged. “Tehuantepec is pretty rustic. They’ll have traditional Oaxacan food, nothing fast or fancy.”
    He made a sound of approval. “I’ll order one of everything.”
    Although they kept a steady pace, the heat wore them down. The pothole-riddled roadway seemed endless. Isabel would have preferred a shorter walk, but she couldn’t regret leaving the car. Sitting inside it had become unbearable.
    “Tell me about your family,” he requested.
    “My family?”
    He gave her a curious look. “Brothers, sisters, parents. You know.”
    “I have a mom.”
    “Is that all?”
    She nodded, self-conscious.
    “Does she look like you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Beautiful?”
    Her stomach fluttered at the compliment. Although she’d been called that, and compared to her mother many times, the words had never…soaked in…until now. “Everyone says so. She used to be an actress.”
    “Really? Movies or TV?”
    “Both, but mostly Spanish-language horror films. Nothing you’d know of.”
    He looked impressed, nonetheless. And she cursed herself for saying too much. “Where were you born?”
    “Santa Monica.” A harmless lie. She’d been born at her dad’s posh mansion in Beverly Hills, but her best memories were of the little bungalow by the pier where she’d been raised. “How about you?”
    “San Diego.”
    She’d figured he was from California. The accent was unmistakable and he had that West Coast vibe. The fact that he wasn’t an Angelino relaxed her nerves a little. Most San Diegans didn’t hang out in L.A., and vice versa, so it was unlikely that she’d run into him during her party years.
    “Don’t tell me you’re a Raiders fan.”
    She shook her head, sighing. “My dad was.” Football wasn’t on the list of American things she missed, but she wouldn’t mind snuggling up next to Brandon at a game. Another impossible fantasy.
    “What happened to him?”
    “He died.”
    His brows drew together. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s okay,” she said, and it was. In that sense, Mexico had been good for her. She’d been forced to clean up her act and grieve, rather than masking the pain. She could run away from the authorities, but she couldn’t escape her feelings.
    He talked of inconsequential things for the next few miles, the surfing spots he’d heard about in Guatemala, and his interest in the local archaeology. It finally dawned on her that he was trying to put her at ease, and that his calm attitude was deceptive. Although his natural confidence made him seem relaxed, this wasn’t his idea of a good time.
    “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said suddenly.
    He looked stricken. “You think I’ll ditch you on the side of the road?”
    “No. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “I just…don’t want you to feel obligated.”
    “I don’t feel obligated.”
    Isabel didn’t believe him, but she dropped the subject. The only other reason he could have for standing by her—sexual attraction—made her even more uncomfortable. And not because she didn’t feel the pull. If he showed an interest in her tonight, she might leap on him. Or she might pass out from