She picked up the magazine before rising. “Now you have the recording. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve fulfilled whatever obligation I had by making sure you heard it. Act on it… don’t act on it. That’s all up to you. But judging from your nice suit, Mr. Torsten pays you well to keep him safe. I hope you do it.”

Spinning on her heel, she strode toward the door in preparation of a dramatic exit. Unfortunately, someone had moved the wall.

CHAPTERFOUR

Rainer didn’t budge when the woman crashed into him. She was so small that he barely felt it. But he couldn’t help but grin when she blinked her big hazel eyes up at him. The light color was a striking contrast to her thick fringe of dark eyelashes.

Mechanic Georgia Hines was adorable. About five-one with skin the color of coffee with a splash of cream, she had her tightly curled hair pulled into a severe bun, but one or two stray curls defied her. They haphazardly framed her face, glints of red glowing in the dark brown strands.

Not African American, he mentally revised. Dominican maybe?

“Whoa there,” he said, taking her by the arms and guiding her back a step.

The girl took two, putting enough distance between them to force him to drop his hold. A pity. She had felt good in his hands.

Georgia blinked up at him with parted lips, her expression slightly dumbfounded. Had she been looking at his hair, he would have understood the reaction. He sported a fresh dye job—his hair a bright cobalt blue shade not found in nature. It was one of several exotic shades he’d been trying. Before the blue, it had been lots of different colors—purple, peacock green, and yellow. He’d even tried a bright scarlet a world removed from his natural red.

But the petite woman in front of him didn’t even register the outlandish hair color. Those incredible eyes were glued to his face, flatteringly so.

He suppressed a wild impulse to stroke her lush rosebud mouth with his fingers.You can look, but no touching.

But that didn’t stop him from using his other senses. His smile widened. “You smell like gasoline. I like it.”

And he did. Rainer was one of the few people who genuinely enjoyed pumping his own gas. It might have been one of the reasons he liked cars so much.

But little Georgia didn’t take the compliment in the spirit it was intended. Her lush pink lips pressed tightly together. “Oh, um, sorry.”

She glanced down at herself before narrowing her eyes at his suit front as if checking for stains, her expression panicked.

“No harm done,” he assured her.

Georgia nodded jerkily.

The name suited her perfectly. Petite, but rounded in all the right places, she was a ripe peach ready to be plucked. He blinked, realizing he’d been staring a touch longer than was socially appropriate. Georgia looked as if she wanted to hide behind the nearest chair.

Her eyes skittered to his face, then quickly away. “Uh…well, I just came by to pass on some information, so I should be going.”

“Just one second,” he said, ruthlessly shutting down another smile.

Rainer reached for the photograph tucked in the pages of the magazine she held. His eyes widened as he examined the snapshot. “I’ll be damned. Youdohave a Talbot.”

The snap was of Georgia next to the vintage vehicle, which was in mid-restoration, her arms up like a game-show hostess demonstrating her wares. A stoop-shouldered man with thinning hair gave the camera a thumbs-up from beside her.

Georgia hesitated, but then her little hand snatched the photograph back. “Sorry. If you heard anything I just said, you know that mentioning it was a ruse so I could deliver my message.”

The smile he’d been fighting broke free. Even the woman’s words were adorable. When was the last time someone had used the wordrusearound him?

Somehow, this exchange was the most fun he’d had in months.Hell, I do need to get out more.

“A threat against me. I heard,” he said. “And don’t think Powell and the others aren’t thrilled by it. They’ve been pretty bored lately. You’ve livened up their day.”

He took back the snapshot, studying it. “As for this, it’s a damn good ruse. I have been looking for a car just like this for years.”

He’d said as much in public. Maybe more than once if memory served. The people they’d sent to interview him—the few he granted these days—were aware that talking cars was a reliable way to kick things off on the right foot.

Rainer admired the vehicle in the picture. “It was obviously in rough shape, but you seem to be doing a good job with the restoration.”

He paused to stroke the sleek line of the hood. The back end bore quite a few dings, but the hood had been smoothed out by an expert hand.Smooth as silk.“It is all your work, isn’t it?” he guessed.