Nate didn’t know what he wanted but whatever it was, it certainly was not Georgia.
He was saved from answering Victor when he spied a youth wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt, the hood worn up even though it was a warm day. The boy was slouching down the pavement, head bowed, hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt, his head swinging this way and that, looking for his mark.
Nate’s guard, already on alert—always on alert—went into overdrive.
Nate’s eyes narrowed as he watched the youth, and Victor started to get into the Rolls. Then, as expected, the boy darted toward his target and Nate heard a woman’s outraged cry.
“Hey!” she yelled.
He watched the boy snatch the woman’s purse, his body tensing for action.
And then his eyes moved to the woman and uncharacteristically, he froze.
“Hey! He stole my purse! Stop him! He stole my purse!” she shouted.
Nate vaguely registered she was an American tourist. Nate also absently noticed that no one moved to assist.
In that brief moment in time, Nate was too busy drinking in the vision that was her, he himself didn’t move a muscle.
She was tall, incredibly tall.
And curvy, delectably curvy.
She had the most unusual colored hair. Hair that he knew from vast experience living in a house with Laura and Danielle for years came through a supremely talented and expensive stylist’s hands.
And she had an exquisite face, flawless skin and a bearing that was extraordinary. She had been given a wide berth around her even on the crowded pavement. Not because she was screaming her head off but instead because she was majestic, radiant, elegant…
In a stupor from simply looking at her, the boy with her purse charged right by Nate.
Not in a stupor, she realized no one was going to help her, gave up screaming and charged right after the boy.
At the noise, Victor turned away from the car and Nate shifted to watch in astonishment as she deftly and agilely dodged the crowd, her long legs a match for the short boy. Then Nate watched in stunned surprise as she jumped onto the thief’s back with a graceful leap.
Everyone stared in shock but no one lifted a finger except a few started to take photographs.
“Give me back my purse, you thug!” she shouted.
Wrapping her long legs around her prey, one arm around his neck, she slapped him around the head with the other hand.
The thief staggered back then he staggered with intent and slammed her against the side of the building. Her head snapped back and cracked against the stone so loudly Nate could hear it from where he stood twenty paces away.
At the sound Nate jerked out of his stupor and forged forward.