Harte Strings: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Two (9 page)

Lazer’s eyes had been sharper than mine. As he spoke, a large bull moose stepped into a clear space between the trees. It stopped and stared right at us. It was gigantic. Six feet tall at the shoulder, at least.

I let out a scream that was more of a frightened squeak and took a step back, losing my balance and sliding backward. The moose snorted and took off noisily in the opposite direction, crashing through the underbrush.

Lazer held on to me, arresting my fall as I slid backward into a huge evergreen tree. But not before snagging myself on the underbrush and picking up foliage in my hair. I hit the tree with much less impact, thanks to Lazer.

He swung around to face me. “Are you okay? It was just a moose. That’s a rare, exciting sighting. We don’t get many of them here. Most of them are on the other side of the state.”

I was shaking and trying not to show it. That moose had startled me. I was
so
not an outdoor girl.

“Hey,” Lazer said tenderly as he picked a piece of brush out of my hair. “It’s okay. Really.” He cupped my cheek and looked deeply into my eyes.

There was that connection again. That damn sexual crackle between us that wouldn’t die. His voice and touch were gentle as his lips angled toward mine. I should have turned my head or made a joke. But I simply wasn’t strong enough. I wanted Lazer with a force beyond myself. A desire so deep, it was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

His lips met mine and all the desire between us erupted. We kissed hungrily. Urgently. Almost bruisingly. As if any minute one of us would come to our senses.

I grabbed his head and ran my fingers through his hair, pressing up against him. He was hard and ready for me. All I had to do was unzip his shorts, pull him out…

So quick. So easy.
So
tempting.

His kisses slid to my ear, my neck, the hollow of my throat. His hands slid beneath my T-shirt, hot and urgent on my skin.

The air was fresh and warm with the scent of the forest. The thrill of averted danger trilled through me. I slid my hands beneath his shirt and caressed his chest. I played with his nipples. He was mumbling sweet nothings to me, but I wasn’t paying attention to the words, only the desire in his tone.

“Up against the rough bark of a tree has always been a fantasy of mine.” His voice was hoarse with desire as he reached for the button of my shorts.

His words finally broke through to me and brought me to my senses.

I grabbed his hands, stopping him. “Mine too. But we can’t. Rule number 32.” I laughed shakily.

“What the fuck is rule 32?” His hands stilled.

“An inside joke between Lottie and me. It means breaking one of my matchmaking rules.” I covered his hands with mine.

“Damn the rules. We aren’t dating.”

No, but I wanted him. I dreamed of him. I wanted more than casual sex with him. This was my punishment for meting out rules all these years without having to live under them. I was just beginning to experience how excruciating unfulfilled desire could be.

“But we’re business partners.” I held his gaze. “And this could only end badly.”

He dropped his hands and backed away slowly, running his hands through his hair like a man frustrated.

Hey, he couldn’t have been any more unfulfilled and desperate than I was.

“You may be right.” He paused. “Or you may be crazy. This could have been perfect.” He nodded toward the table. “We’d better head back or we’ll be late.”

A
shley

When I got back to the lodge, Lottie was lying in wait for me, dying to tell me what was on that note card.

“How was your hike with Lazer?” She followed me into my room.

“Exhausting. This high-altitude air is killer.” I gave her a conspiratorial smile. “And don’t worry. He told me what was on that note card. Told me
all
about it.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you passed out last night before we could discuss that little revelation. What did he say about it?”

Lazer hadn’t exactly sworn me to secrecy, but I couldn’t see myself being any less loyal than his friends. I shrugged. “I promised not to share everything he said. But I can say it was a real proposal. A long time ago when he was too young to get married anyway.

“All of the guys know about it, which was why Lazer thought it was a winning response and was so adamant about going all or nothing. All’s well.”

“Oh.” She sounded and looked disappointed, but was professional enough to quickly put it aside. “While you’ve been out, I’ve been talking with the men and getting to know the staff.”

“Impressions?” I pulled off my hiking boots and socks.

“The men are genuinely nice guys. Real sweeties. Once we fix them up a bit, teach them the dating ropes, they’re going to be heartbreakers. Very smart. All of them. And sincere and motivated about finding wives. Also, so excited about that app they’re developing.

“Geek-boy exuberance, I’d call it. They picked my brain all during breakfast. We have to find them good women. They deserve them.” She lowered her voice. “And Lazer!” She whistled softly. “That man has charisma oozing out of his pores. He could charm the pants off an avowed celibate, don’t you think?”

I did think. Just this morning he almost
had
!

“His staff absolutely loves him. I couldn’t pry a bad word about him out of them. He’s considerate. He pays well. He’s funny. The compliments go on and on.

“The marketing and naming people arrived while you were out. They adore him, too. All they can do is gush.” She leaned toward me. “If it makes any difference, every woman in this building has a crush on him. And some of the men from the agency, too. I think they’re gay. Which explains it.”

“Lazer has that effect on people,” I said, casually, as if it was an everyday thing.

“Whoever lands him for a husband is going to have to be the
ultra
-secure type that doesn’t mind being the plain Jane in the relationship, even if she’s a supermodel. And won’t get upset about women, and men, hitting on him all the time.”

This was
not
what I needed to hear.

“He’s not
that
handsome.” Denial was strong in me.

Lottie raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t say he was. He has charisma, that’s what I said. Different thing. And much more dangerous. As you know full well.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Charisma was what made for winning politicians and dazzling superstars.

“It’s more than his looks and money that make him attractive, honey. He has that something-something that just makes him
hot
.” Lottie laughed. “Some men just have
sex
appeal.”

I pursed my mouth to one side and put another black mark on my mental compatibility chart with Lazer. How many times had I told clients that averagely attractive spouses were the best kinds? They were usually less vain, less full of themselves than the beautiful people. Kinder. More thoughtful. And it could get damn tiring when everyone was always flirting and hitting on your spouse. It was an insecurity breeding ground.

If you can’t live with that kind of pressure, if you aren’t secure to the core of your being, then give up on the notion of marrying the heartthrob and go for the good guy that’s usually overlooked. Like Cam, Austin, Jeremy, or Dylan.
Substance over outward appearance
had long been my motto.

Sadly, it was just another piece of good advice I was ignoring.

L
azer

Romantic breakfasts in the woods hadn’t worn Ashley down. Not even paired with sharing a secret and playing on her sympathies for the poor, young, geeky me. Saving her from a rogue moose hadn’t won me enough points to score. I was burning with desire. And not about to give up. The game only got more interesting.

I introduced Ashley and Lottie to Peter, our recruiting specialist, before our ten a.m. meeting. They seemed to hit it off. As the three of us and the guys sat around a table watching the presentation from the agency, I anticipated my next move on Ashley. Women loved magic. I was going to give her some.

I’d hinted to her that I had the inside scoop on the direction the agency was going with naming and branding. I had more than that. I’d had a sneak peek at the three top contenders. A little later, I was going to play clairvoyant. I’d had some swag made up for each concept to impress Ashley with later. In the meantime, I was hoping the team went with my favorite.

I watched their reactions as the agency presented each concept, beginning with my least favorite and ending with the one I wanted. My favorite name, and corresponding concept, Pair Us, won with unanimous approval. Even the guys were excited. It appealed to them as not being too girly and cheesy lovey-dovey. Being engineers and coders, the straightforward meaning of it sold them. Pair Us because of the way it sounded like the City of Love, and suited both sides of the business so well. Pair us, pair two people. Pair us, a person and a company with a job.

The concept was simple. The first branch would be Pair Us on Lake Union, with later branches to follow when we decided to franchise. Our signature gimmick for the matchmaking side would be a custom-made lovelock. When a couple was happily paired, they’d lock it on a bridge sculpture in the lobby of our building, like the lovelocks on bridges in Paris. This would serve a twofold purpose. One, it was fantastic visual evidence of our success. And two, it would make a beautiful piece of art that was added to by clients and a romantic place they could come to remember their happy beginning.

Ashley’s eyes lit up when the agency presented the concept, along with the branding, including a logo, the font that would be used on all correspondence, and a mockup of a proposed website.

As the meeting broke up, Ashley reminded the guys and me of our afternoon appointments with her. “As our first clients, you gentlemen will be the first to go through the Pair Us program.” Her face lit up. “Pair Us! I love saying that. Such a great name.

“Since signing the deal, Lottie and I have been working to coalesce my matchmaking techniques into a comprehensive program that can be franchised.” She smiled at all of us. “I’m looking forward to chatting with each of you.”

A
shley

Lunch was fantastic. We ate by the pool. Another delicious spread. The agency people stayed. I got a chance to get to know them and Peter better. I liked them all, especially Peter, who had a sense of humor and a passion for getting people into jobs they’d love and thrive at.

I had the sense that one of the agency women had slept with Lazer and would love to again, given the chance. I shouldn’t have felt so jealous over it, but I did. Worse, I was second-guessing myself. Should I have made love with Lazer in the woods? If I didn’t give him what he wanted, would she? Would I lose him?

Would that be so terrible?

Maybe we were better off as business partners.

You know better!
my rational side screamed at me.
You’re not the only matchmaker to recommend waiting if you want a committed relationship.

Facts, data, and experience were on my side. But damn, emotionally, I wanted to give in to what I knew was the wrong thing in this situation. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe a fling was all I needed. Just call me Miss Waffler.

Lazer was my first appointment after lunch. I met with him in his private study while the guys met in the conference room to hash out details about the app. I would have loved to sit outside for the meeting. But the private nature of the discussion dictated a closed room. Meeting in Lazer’s study with me in the leadership position set up an odd dynamic. I was an interloper here, a guest. And yet I was taking charge.

We’d been polite, but reserved and slightly distant at lunch. For my part, I was simply trying to put a damper on the flames of desire. A slow burn suited my purposes better. I had no idea what
he
was feeling.

Lazer’s office had two sofas and a two plush chairs in a U-shaped seating area, with an ottoman that doubled as a coffee table in the middle. Funnily, there was a stuffed moose head hanging over the fireplace.

I took a seat at the end of one sofa. Lazer sat on the other so that we were kitty-corner to each other.

I pointed to the moose head. “I thought you weren’t a hunter?”

He smiled. “I’m not. That was a gift from one of the other billionaires in EIEIO. It’s a bit of a joke.”

“Oh, right. Your version of the Bohemian Grove. They’re hunters, are they?”

He nodded. “Some of them. Some of them just have a wicked sense of humor.”

I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous about this process. Finding out about a man I’d like a relationship with like this seemed like cheating. Yet wasn’t all fair in love and war?

“The first step in my process is interviewing you, as the client, and, more deviously, our billionaire bait—”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” I said, putting on my professional persona. “You need to see how the process works firsthand. That’s just smart business. I don’t have to tell you how much we’re counting on your celebrity to bring in business and women for the match pool.”

“No pressure,” he said, his tone light and amused, like always.

“This venture was
your
idea.”

He shrugged. “Are you going to do your physical assessment of me first?”

I frowned, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I read your book,” he said. “It’s in there. You like to do an assessment of each new client and give them areas where they can improve.”

“I don’t think you have any problems in that area. You’re Seattle’s hottest bachelor.”

“Are you saying I’m flawless?”

“I wouldn’t go that far—”

He grinned. “Then I do have flaws. Just like the guys in your book, I’m blind to them. What can I improve on?” He leaned toward me. “Take a good look.”

Damn, now my pulse was racing. “Stop teasing.”

He batted his eyes at me and smiled so I could see his teeth. “Teeth white enough? Hair cut in the right style? You’re going to give the guys tips. If we’re going to go through this charade, I want the full treatment.”

“You’re not a paying customer.”

“But I
am
your most-high profile client.”

I shook my head. “Fine. I give up.” I shrugged and leaned even closer to him. “Your eyes are a delicious brown.”

I imagined kissing him.

“Your jaw line is square and firm. Your haircut is perfect for your bone structure and the shape of your face. Your teeth are straight and white. Your breath is fresh.”

I put my hands on each of his shoulders and ran them along them, tugging gently at the shoulder seams as I imagined getting him out of that shirt and climbing into his lap.

“The fit of your shirt”—I dropped my gaze lower—“and shorts is just right.” Too right. Too revealing.

I was practically in his lap. In my mind, I slipped out of my clothes, unzipped those shorts…

I bent my head over his neck and inhaled, resisting the urge to kiss and suck it. “Your cologne would give any women with a sense of smell ideas of sex,” I whispered in his ear.

My breathing had gone shallow. I tried not to tremble. Being this close, imagining all the things I’d like to do with him, and teasing and flirting with him like this was dangerous business.

When I looked into his eyes again, they were dark, his pupils large. He was feeling it, too.

I cupped his cheek and ran my hand over the few days’ growth of beard. “Your beard is soft and well conditioned. Nicely shaped. You use a number two comb on your beard trimmer?”

“Very good,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

“I know my grooming products.”

Why was my voice so soft and hoarse? My lips were too close to his. It would have been so easy to kiss him and just let go.

The air crackled with the chemistry between us. If I had been in a romance novel, I would have said my bosom was gently heaving. I should have stopped flirting with him. I really should have. Before I crossed the point of no return.

I ran my fingers over his smoothly shaved upper cheeks. Soft as a baby’s. There was something
incredibly
sexy about freshly shaved faces. A complex combination of masculinity and vulnerability.

When I moved on to his neck, gently stroking it, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he sat perfectly still. I wondered if he was imagining the same things I was, and how he was keeping his hands to himself.

“Your beard is also impressively shaped. Too much neck hair is a problem I often have to correct.” I paused, my fingers stilling. Thankfully I’d found something. “But you’ve irritated your neck. Whatever product you’re using—shaving cream or aftershave—isn’t the right one for you. I can recommend something for sensitive skin.”

I pulled away abruptly, before I broke my own rule and did something I’d regret. I sat well back in my space on my sofa and smiled at him, trying not to let him see how rattled I was. Or how fast I was breathing.

“There’s your flaw.” I fought to keep my voice from shaking. “And the fix. Am I good or what?”

He looked startled I’d actually found something. Clearly he’d been teasing me. He had the best stylists available to him. Probably a personal shopper. And maybe he was surprised, too, that I’d pulled away like that just at the point where it had seemed I would slide into his lap and kiss him. Maybe thoughts of doing it on the sofa had filled his mind as completely as they had mine. He couldn’t have been as startled as I was that I’d had enough willpower to stick to my plan.