Molly Matthews Meddles in Marriage (3 page)

“Sure.”

“We do run some small networking events. A chance for our members to mix in a friendly and supportive environment, cocktail parties, supper evenings, that sort of thing. I think it would be a good idea if you came along to our next one.”

Rory grimaced.

“I don’t do networking. Not unless I have to. Which I do for work. Socially, I prefer not to. Especially as I’m keen to keep my membership here strictly under wraps. I don’t need the tabloids finding out I’ve had to resort to a marriage bureau.”

Molly startled, her eyebrows dancing high.

“You think this is a last resort?” She bit on her lip, steadying her breathing. “Our members choose to join the agency as a positive and proactive choice. They come from all walks of life and are extremely well rounded, successful individuals. It’s far from being a last resort. This is an exclusive lifestyle choice.”

“Of course.” He held up his hands in surrender. “No offense intended. I’m just a bit sensitive about the whole privacy thing at the moment.”

“All our members sign a confidentiality agreement so you would have no need to worry on that front, but whether or not you choose to attend our events is entirely up to you. But if you’re really serious about doing this then…” She searched his expression for answers. “Is there anything you need to ask me? Anything in particular you might be looking for in a prospective partner?”

He shrugged as if he’d never even considered the question.

“Someone nice?” he offered after a pause.

“Someone nice?”

“Yep. And kind. With a sweet personality.” The description bore no resemblance to the girls he’d been linked to in the past. He tilted his head to one side, clearly considering other attributes his ideal woman might possess. “Oh, and brown eyes,” he said, looking directly and intimately into hers, a smile playing on his lips. “Must admit I do have a thing for brown eyes.”

Molly’s stomach went into freefall, her eyelashes fluttering involuntarily.

“Right, well, I will bear that in mind, although I don’t like to make any promises on physical attributes. Someone nice and kind with a sweet personality and brown eyes,” she repeated in disbelief.

Rory laughed, shaking his head.

“What is it?”

“Oh God, no, I realize I’ve just described my perfect woman.” He sighed, seemingly lost in the moment. “Bella has all those qualities and more.”

“Bella?”

“Yes, my golden retriever.” He grinned. “I suppose it would be too much to ask to find someone as devoted and adoring as she is.”

Molly gave him a sharp look.

“If you mean you’re searching for unconditional love from someone who’ll put up with any sort of behavior then, yes, it probably is too much to ask for. But I can put you in touch with some women with similar values and interests who I think you might be suited to.”

Rory’s raised his eyebrows. “You make it sound so very appealing. Like going to the dentist.”

“You do want to do this, don’t you, Rory?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he sighed.

“Great, well, I’ll see what I can come up with.” She pulled open her diary. “When would suit you for our follow-up appointment?”

“To be honest, I’m pretty busy over the next couple of weeks, but how about dinner later this week?”

“Dinner? Well, it wasn’t quite what I had in mind. I was thinking—”

“No, dinner will be much more fun. There’s a great little restaurant I go to where we won’t be bothered. It will give us a proper chance to get to know each other.”

Suddenly Rory was calling the shots. How had that happened? Like a nodding dog, she confirmed her agreement involuntarily. A date with Rory Campbell? To all intents and purposes a business meeting, so why was there a ridiculous fizz of excitement bubbling in her stomach?

Chapter Two

That feeling, delicious though it was, was short-lived. By the next morning, the fizz had fallen decidedly flat and her stomach was heavy with regret. What an idiot she’d been, acting like a love-struck fan. Rory would be used to women fawning over him, but she should never have let her professionalism slip. Admittedly, she’d been caught by surprise. She’d expected to come back from the wedding to do some light admin work before heading home. Not to find one of the country’s most eligible bachelors making himself at home in her office. The champagne, the wonderful wedding, her flirty high heels had put her in a frivolous mood and she’d been unnecessarily snarky and confrontational with her visitor.

Thinking about it, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d walked away, taking his business with him. Instead, he’d managed to maneuver her into a dinner date, which wasn’t her usual way of conducting matters at all! Clearly a man like Rory was used to being in charge, but if their business relationship had any hope of succeeding, then he might need reminding that, this time, she would be taking the controls.

At least tonight would be a chance to put things straight. To get their relationship back on a proper standing. Rory Campbell needed a wife and if there was one thing Molly was good at, it was bringing people together. She always had been. On the playground, she’d acted as mediator when her friends fell out, as a teenager she’d relished being the go-between, passing on love notes between the boys and girls and when she started work in PR, building up an enviable address book overflowing with contacts, she’d eagerly put like-minded people in touch if she thought they could help one another. A natural people person, it was her knack for picking out potential love matches among her friends that brought her the most satisfaction and when a friend suggested she put her skills to good use by setting up her own marriage bureau, she didn’t need any persuading.

Rory was simply another client. In need of her help.

* * * *

She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. What was she thinking? Red lipstick! It clashed horribly with her hair. With the back of her hand, she wiped it away and chastised her reflection with a shake of the head. She didn’t usually take so much trouble over her makeup, so why was it bothering her so much today?

And if that was the case, if Rory was just another client, why was she feeling so uncertain and giddily nervous, like one of those love-struck teenagers she’d proved such a help to in the past?

Get a grip, she told herself. With the lipstick gone and the high heels replaced by a sensible pair of black brogues, she headed off to meet Rory. Plain black trousers and a cream-caramel blouse completed the look. She only hoped she looked as inconspicuous as the restaurant, she mused, as the cab pulled up in an exclusive West End street and she gazed up through the window. There was no clue to the restaurant name outside, just heavily bronzed windows with No. 18 etched on the glass in fancy italics. Treacherously, her heart pulsed rapidly in her chest. She took a deep breath as the door swung open and she was greeted by the debonair maître d’.

“Miss Matthews. Welcome. Let me take your jacket. Mr. Campbell is here and waiting for you. I’ll show you the way.”

Molly startled at the prompt attention, wondering whether he’d been lying in wait for her. She stifled a giggle as she followed him, immediately regretting her choice of clothes as she took in the splendor of the restaurant. She felt dowdy and drab against the understated elegance of the oak-paneled room. Individual booths suffused in soft lighting gave the place an intimate and cozy atmosphere. Single orchids adorning each table added an exotic touch.

“Molly, how lovely to see you again.” Rory stood and took hold of her hand, grazing her fingertips with the lightest of kisses. It was a ridiculously over-the-top gesture yet heart-warmingly chivalrous at the same time. Her body responded, desire surging in her chest, as his gaze ran the length of her body. “You look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, her whole body turning to mush.

“Thank you.” She sat in her seat, trying hard to hide her discomfort. She knew Rory was only being polite, but she wished he hadn’t made the comment. She looked all manner of things, neat, presentable or smart, but beautiful wasn’t one of them. Growing up with a fashion model for a mother and an older sister, Natalie, who had inherited the gorgeous gene, she knew exactly where she stood on the beautiful scale.

The maître d’ hovered, presenting a bottle to Rory for his approval.

“I took the liberty of ordering champagne. You mentioned it was your favorite. Mine too.” He grinned conspiratorially. “Besides, who needs an excuse to crack open a bottle?”

Molly cringed. She’d obviously been far too indiscreet the other day. So much for her sticking to the orange juices tonight.

“Lovely,” she said, watching helplessly as the bubbles filled her glass, before instinctively reaching out and taking a sip just to calm her nerves. Keeping company with a screen heartthrob twice in the space of a couple of days was playing havoc with her peace of mind.

She’d interviewed dozens of eligible men in the course of her work, all handsome, intelligent and charismatic, but not once had she allowed herself a spark of attraction to any of them. Not once had her legs been reduced to a wobbly mess as hers were now moving restlessly beneath the table. Not once had she found it so difficult to construct a simple coherent sentence in a man’s presence. Yet tonight, with Rory looking more gorgeous than ever in chinos and blue chambray shirt that offset the dark hue of his eyes perfectly, she was struggling with all of those things and more.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Rory surveyed the menu. “The rack of lamb is excellent, as is the steak Marsala. But everything is reliably good, so go for whatever you fancy.”

Molly tried hard to ignore the sensation that this was feeling more like a date with each passing moment.

Rory leaned forward in his chair. His commanding physical presence gave him an authority that made him seem completely in control, as though this was his natural home, just as he had done when he’d sat in her office. Self-confidence and assurance oozed from his every pore.

Her gaze settled on his long fingers as they caressed the menus. Now he mentioned it, there was a definite stirring of hunger in her stomach.

“In that case, I’ll go for the rack of lamb.” She snapped the menu shut firmly, eager to reclaim an element of control. “So, I wondered if you had anything you needed to ask me following our first meeting? Anything you weren’t sure about.”

A flicker of humor washed over his features.

“Oh, there’s plenty I’d like to ask. I mean, you know everything about me, Molly, but what do I know about you? Nothing. Maybe you should fill in the same forms for me to have a look at?”

“Well, to be honest with you, that’s not why we’re here.” She ignored the flush of heat spreading through her bones. “We’re here to find you a partner. I’m assuming you do still want that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He had a way of looking at her, gently appraising her, that made her squirm in her seat. Every inch of her body tingled in a heightened anticipation that was both disturbing and delightful.

“Good. Well, there were a couple of things I wanted to ask about that came up when I reviewed your forms, if that’s all right?” She bent down, taking a steadying breath before rifling through her handbag and pulling out a sheaf of papers. She turned the pages over until she reached the relevant one. “In particular, the section here about previous relationships, I noticed you’ve scored through all the boxes?”

“Yes.” A smile flirted on his lips.

“Obviously if you prefer not to share that sort of information, then I respect that decision, but I do find it helpful to know a little about people’s past relationships as it gives me some idea of any particular character traits I might need to avoid in any future matches.” She lifted her voice, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “If someone’s been with a workaholic and that relationship failed because of the problems around that issue, then I’d try not to recreate that situation in any potential match.”

“Yes, I can see how that might be a problem.”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? Or was he purposefully hiding something beneath that smooth and charming exterior? The waiter arrived with the main courses and Molly was able to deflect her attention from Rory. Their every exchange was filled with an intensity that ruffled her composure, leaving her feeling as though she were playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse, with her as the poor hunted victim about to run into a waiting trap.

She took another sip of champagne, its immediate effect rippling along the length of her skin. Was it the sophisticated surroundings or the company she found so distracting? Focus, she reprimanded herself. Mind on job.

“So, about your previous relationships, is there anything I should bear in mind when organizing potential matches for you?”

His mouth twisted in concentration then he gave a resigned shrug.

“Nope. There’s nothing much to report, I’m afraid.”

She snorted, surprising herself and Rory even more judging by his bemused look. But honestly, did she really look that stupid?

“It’s true. Most of my relationships have been casual affairs.”

“I see.” She ran a finger along a groove in the table. “But between the casual affairs, there must have been something more serious, some long-term relationships?”

He shifted in his chair, his gaze wandering around the restaurant. He topped off her glass, but she noticed he was only sipping from his own. Was he trying to get her drunk?

“Not really. There was something when I was a kid. A teenage thing that fizzled out. That would have been my longest relationship, but since then…” He raised his eyebrows, his gaze challenging her to probe further.

Molly did a mental checklist of all the women she’d known him to have gone out with. Quickly she was into double figures and way, way beyond. The kiss-and-tells would make a tasty volume on their own.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Yes, I’ve been linked to a lot of women, but honestly none of them got far beyond the starting post. That’s why the press have such a field day. Another woman, another story. That’s all it is to them.”