Surrender My Heart

“All that matters is that I know your name,” Michael said, and it took Natalie a moment to realize that he was quoting her words from yesterday. “I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever been rejected quite like that before.”

So that’s what this was about. “I see I bruised your ego—”

“Ouch—”

“Which wasn’t my intent,” she continued. “So for that, I apologize.” She began to dig through her purse. Staying here and engaging Michael in more chitchat was getting them nowhere. “But like I said, I’d like time to peruse Penelope’s plans before we get together. Here’s my card—”

“Tonight. Dinner. You’ll love the soul food. Southern fried chicken, collard greens…”

“On second thought, it’s probably best that the next meeting be with both of us and Penelope,” Natalie said, not liking where this was going. She put the card back into her purse. “Let’s both touch base with her in a couple of days and then schedule the next meeting.”

And then, before Michael could say a word, Natalie started down the front steps of the house. She needed to get away from him. Natalie knew his type, and wasn’t going to entertain his “I’m not flirting” flirtation any longer.

She hurried around the side of the building, not looking backward. She knew she was doing the same thing she had done yesterday—running from Michael, as he had said. Natalie wasn’t naïve, and she certainly wasn’t born yesterday. No matter what Michael said, it was clear that he had designs on her, and the last thing she wanted to do was lead him on in any way. So going out to dinner with him to discuss the charity even was a definite no-no.

At least not tonight. Let her go over Penelope’s initial plans on her own, then she and Michael would talk. That way, their next interaction would truly feel like a business meeting as opposed to a date.

But as Natalie rounded her car to the driver’s-side door, she stopped in her tracks. Silently, she cursed.

Because her grand plan of escape had totally been destroyed.

She had a flat tire.

Chapter 5

“What the heck?” Natalie asked as her eyes took in the sight of the front driver’s-side tire. “How in God’s name?”

“Need some help?”

Natalie spun around and stared at Michael. Her first thought was that he must have somehow been behind this. But she knew he couldn’t have been. He had been in Penelope’s

office with her for their entire meeting. Had been in that office even before Natalie had arrived.

“What?” Michael asked, his eyes narrowing with speculation. “You can’t seriously think I had anything to do with this?”

Natalie didn’t answer the question. She wanted to blame him for this inconvenience, because it meant having to spend even more time with the man when she wanted nothing more than to get away from him. She wasn’t certain why she was so desperate to escape him, only that she was.

“Looks like I have a flat tire.” Vance had always told her that she wasn’t good at assessing a car’s needs, only at driving one. She hadn’t needed to be, not when her high-end Mercedes had indicated to her whenever the car needed something. But now that she thought about it, the rental car had felt a little off. It had seemed a little lower on the left side as she had been driving earlier. But she had paid no particular attention, figuring that was no big deal.

Clearly, however, the tire had been losing air.

“If you pop the trunk,” Michael began, “there should be a spare. I can help put it on.”

“There’s no need for that,” Natalie said.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’re one of those women who knows how to change a tire?” The look he gave her—sizing up her designer heels and her delicate flowery dress—said he didn’t believe that she would be capable of changing a tire. At least not in that outfit.

Natalie wanted to tell him that she was perfectly capable of changing a car tire, and she would almost be tempted to spend the hours required to do the job just to send him on his way. But she said, “I’m going to call the rental car company. They can send someone to fix the tire.”

“There’s no need for that,” Michael told her. “I can do it.”

“You’re not exactly dressed for tire changing, either,” Natalie pointed out, taking in his dark jeans and black cotton dress shirt, also noting yet again just how fine his body was.

“Better me get dirty than you.”

So the man was chivalrous, something Natalie appreciated. Still, she said, “You’ll put a spare on, but I’ll still have to deal with the issue of the problem tire being replaced.”

“And you can deal with that once you’re at home,” Michael told her. “Wouldn’t that be preferable to waiting around here for the rental car people to show up?”

Michael had her, and he knew it. If she protested anymore—

“Unless the reason you don’t want me to help is because you’re afraid to spend any time with me.”

Natalie’s mouth fell open in shock. She made a sound of derision. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Seems to me that just like yesterday, you want to get away from me as fast as you can. But it’s also clear to me—as became evident when you walked in the door earlier today—that fate is making sure we spend time together. So I say why fight it? Just roll with it.”

Natalie began to pace, her heels crunching on the gravel. This totally sucked. Anything she said to counter his argument would come off as defensive, and she truly had no reason to be defensive with Michael. And yet he was absolutely right—she didn’t want to spend any time with him. If she could go back on her word and say no to helping out with the fundraiser, she would almost consider that. Simply because the idea of spending more time with Michael was extremely unnerving.

“Why don’t you just give me your keys?” Michael told her. “If you don’t, you’re going to give me a complex,” he added with a smile.

Reluctantly, Natalie passed him the keys to the Chevrolet Cruze. Crossing her arms over her chest, she watched as he opened the trunk.

After rummaging around in the trunk for a couple of minutes, Michael turned to her and said, “There’s a spare tire here, but I don’t see a jack. Which doesn’t make sense. One should be here.”

“And you’re sure there isn’t?”

Michael nodded. “And I don’t have one in my car.”

“It’s okay. I am perfectly happy to call the rental car company. Let them deal with this. They’re going to need to know about the flat, anyway.”