Surrender My Heart

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Penelope cleared her throat, and when Natalie looked at her, she was horrified to see a knowing smirk on the woman’s

face—the kind of smirk that said she believed Natalie had just been checking Michael out.

“I checked out your charity on the internet,” Natalie said, needing to say something to get Penelope’s mind off of the track it was clearly on. “I’m really impressed. For a small charity, you have been able to do incredible work.”

“And we hope to continue to do that work,” Penelope said. “Which is why both of you are here.”

Natalie nodded. Then, despite herself, she glanced at Michael again, and saw that his gaze was still intent on her. It was the kind of gaze that left a woman feeling totally exposed.

She jerked her head away. She could already tell that this Michael character was the type of guy used to getting what he wanted. First of all, he was gorgeous. Certainly not the kind of guy most women would kick out of the bed in the morning. Add that to the fact that he was a successful athlete, and he was all but irresistible to most women.

The way Michael kept checking her out made it obvious to Natalie that he thought all he had to do was give her a dose of his smoldering looks and his dazzling smile and she would be putty in his hands.

“Now, the date for the gala event is August 12,” Penelope said. “Which gives us just about six weeks. Unlike some of the events we’ve done before, this will be a celebrity event. I would like both of you to be cohosts for the event. I’ve seen video of you on the internet, Natalie, and you’re a natural with a microphone. And of course, you are, too, Mike,” she added amiably. “With the two of you headlining the event, we’re sure to have a great turnout.”

“What exactly do you mean by headlining?” Natalie asked. “Do you want us to emcee, or provide some sort of entertainment?”

“Oh, no, I don’t expect you to be the entertainment—unless of course you have some jokes you’d like to share—but your job will be to host,” Penelope explained. “You’re both celebrities, you both speak well. You’ll emcee the evening, introduce each new segment for the night, be it the auction items or the various entertainment.”

Natalie nodded. “Gotcha.”

The phone rang, but Penelope stayed seated at the conference table, not getting up to go to the desk and answer it. “I’m working on some of the entertainment as we speak.” Penelope spoke over the ringing phone. “I’ve made some calls to a comedian, a local church choir, a popular dance troupe and some others. So far, only the gospel choir has confirmed, but I’m hopeful the others will, as well.”

“We’ll follow up with whomever you’ve reached out to,” Michael said.

“Excellent,” Penelope said. “I’m sure that hearing from both of you will inspire people to say yes. I want a real high-class event that will justify the cost of the ticket price.”

“You know, I could ask my sister if she’ll perform,” Natalie said. “Deanna Hart.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, please do. That would be fantastic. I didn’t know if I should ask, given that you all are grieving, but having her on the lineup would be amazing. I love her music. She has such a beautiful voice.”

Natalie felt a pinch of pride. Though Deanna wouldn’t know it, Natalie had bought the three CDs she’d put out over the past eight years. She may not have been speaking to her sister at the time, but she had been proud of her success nonetheless.

“I’ve got some musician friends I could talk to, as well,” Michael said. “I’m sure they’d be happy to lend their support.”

“And speaking of dancers,” Natalie began, “I have a friend in San Antonio who is a very talented ballet dancer. She leaves audiences breathless, seriously. I can give her a call.”

Penelope’s wide grin indicated not only the woman’s happiness, but her relief. “I knew you both were the perfect ones for the job. I’m so glad I ran into you, Michael, because that gave me the idea to have celebrities headline this event. This is going to be our most successful event ever, I just know it!”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a celebrity,” Natalie said sheepishly. Her only claim to fame was having been married to Vance Cooper.

“Of course you’re a celebrity,” Penelope said. “Athletes’ wives are famous, too—especially ones who grew up in Cleveland. And with the amount of charitable work you do, you’re also good people.”

Natalie smiled. “Thank you.”

The phone rang again. Penelope sighed. “I really ought to get that.”

“No problem,” Michael said, rising from his seat. “You’ve got a lot to do. I think Natalie and I should take it from here, sit down and brainstorm and then get back to you.”

Penelope held up a finger as she hurried to the phone. She answered it and asked the person on the other end of the line to wait for a moment.

Then she returned to the table, where she handed Natalie and Michael a folder each. “I need to take this phone call. But these are my initial plans, which the two of you can peruse. Have a gander, brainstorm together and we’ll talk at a future date.”

“Oh, sure.” Natalie stood and accepted Penelope’s proffered hand. But she was suddenly out of sorts. She wasn’t thrilled about the idea of her and Michael having to spend time together alone. She would prefer to do the planning with Penelope involved.

Michael shook Penelope’s hand, and then turned to Natalie when Penelope went back to the phone.

“Why don’t we talk outside?” he suggested in a low voice, careful not to speak too loudly and disturb Penelope.

“Sure,” Natalie agreed.

Michael gestured for her to walk in front of him, so she left the office first. Getting to the double front doors moments later, Natalie reached for the right handle. But her hand collided with Michael’s as he reached to do the same thing.

“Allow me,” Michael said.

Natalie drew in a deep breath. The touch of Michael’s hand against her skin, the deep timbre of his voice…he was doing this on purpose. Trying to see if he could get to her.

But she said nothing, just stepped onto the porch, where the heat of the late-June day enveloped her. But that was nothing compared to the heat she saw smoldering in Michael’s eyes when she turned around and looked up at him.

“So,” he said.

Natalie’s pulse picked up speed—and then she felt disgusted with herself. Good Lord, what was wrong with her? Why was this man getting to her on any level? So what if he was seriously fine, with a body chiseled to perfection?

Obviously Natalie needed a distraction from the reality of Vance and his betrayal—but seriously, Michael Jones? There couldn’t be a worse man to feel even a remote attraction to.

Natalie cleared her throat and averted her gaze. “I’ll take a look at Penelope’s plans, you do the same and let’s talk in a couple of days. Give me your card, and I’ll call you.”

“Actually, I was thinking more like dinner. Tonight.”

“Dinner?” She narrowed her eyes at him. A beat passed. Then another. Then Michael’s lips curved in a smile.

Natalie couldn’t believe his gall. “Are you seriously asking me out on a date?”

Michael’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Actually, I was suggesting we have dinner in order to discuss some ideas for this fundraiser. But if you want to make it a romantic date…”

Natalie swallowed, feeling foolish. “Oh.”

“How about seven o’clock? Right where we met on the street yesterday. I have a restaurant there, A Taste of Soul. We can meet there. Have a relaxing meal. Enjoy some Dixieland jazz.”

Though it shouldn’t have, Natalie’s heart began to beat a little faster. Michael had said this wasn’t a romantic date, but what he was describing certainly sounded like it. Natalie could only imagine his plan of attack: feed her a delicious meal, give her a few drinks, allow the music to set the mood, then suggest that they head back to his place.

She had fallen for that game once before. She wouldn’t again.

“We can speak over the phone,” she told him. “I think we should at least look over Penelope’s plans separately before we come together to discuss ideas.”

“Trying to run away from me again?”

Natalie’s right eyebrow shot up. “Excuse me? I just presented you with a practical plan. How on earth did you deduce—”

“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.”