I smiled affectionately, but noncommittally, at him. "It was nice."
"Nice!"
I thought he was going to explode. He looked shocked by my nice comment. Only nice? As if that was the understatement of the year.
"It's all I've thought about," he said. "You're all I've thought about since."
I took his hand and squeezed it, my heart pounding. My mouth dry. My stomach as nervous as before a big speech. Resisting every wild urge I had, proceeding cautiously. I had to keep him off balance. I couldn't show how much I wanted him. I had to reset again to that place where he had to pursue me. Play hard to get. Love it or hate it, in the right measure, playing hard to get worked.
"That's sweet." Too patronizing? Maybe. It was hard to get this exactly right. Set the right tone. I sympathized with my clients, especially those who weren't suave in the dating department.
"You're not mad? Or upset with me?" He looked perplexed and wary. His brow knitted.
His reaction was sweet in its way, too. He was used to women doing anything to please him. To forgiving him for anything. The fact that he didn't quite trust me, but absolutely wanted my forgiveness and approval, and was uncertain he'd get it, was thrilling. Mind-blowing, to use his words.
The power of sex. I couldn't let it go to my head.
I'd just fooled the playboy and brought the uncertain boy geek out in him. It was both adorably heart-melting and hot, hot, hot. I had to clench my legs.
"Why would I be upset with you after great sex?" I made a point of looking confused now, too.
"You've been distant—"
"I've been preoccupied and stressed with the business and the move." What a liar I was! And why did I sound so much like a man? This role reversal was almost fun. No wonder men enjoyed this position of power so much.
"There's nothing wrong?" he said.
I shook my head, trying to hide my true elation and look confused by the question. "No. Why?"
"We're still friends?"
"Absolutely. Haven't we always been?" I squeezed his hand again to reassure him. "We're very compatible." He had no idea just how compatible.
His eyes lit up. He relaxed. "Good. It's lonely at the top." He grinned and cupped the back of my head. "I've missed you." He leaned in for a kiss.
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to fall into his arms, temptation, and bed with him. But even in my weakened state of being totally hot for him, I knew that would have been a fatal mistake. I pulled away from him and slid my hand free of his. "We're friends, Lazer." I paused to frame my words. "But no more benefits."
His eyes flashed. "What if I want benefits?" He was upset and hot with desire.
I smelled his Arrogance. Yes, he really was hot and bothered. And I was delighted. And, best of all, hopeful. "We don't always get what we want."
He did, I was sure. But there was no need to get into that now. I was going to be the one woman who resisted. Yes, from here on out. I would be that woman. The one he had to work hard to get. The one whose conquest would mean something to him. I would not slip up again. I couldn't.
"We've moved into a new phase now," I said, smoothly and calmly. "I have fifteen women who've been enticed to Seattle partly, at least, because they think they have a shot at you, my darling billionaire. And I, for one, am not going to betray their trust in me. In you. In us. In Pair Us."
"Fuck." His eyes narrowed, yet he caressed the word as if he was trying to tempt me. "Fuck this business of matching me."
I laughed softly, enjoying myself way too much. "Don't be too hasty. Don't speak so soon." I paused, looking him directly in the eye as I casually picked up the remains of my sandwich. "I've gone to a lot of trouble, been exceptionally selective, and I have found you some wonderful matches—"
He studied me, suddenly breaking into a seductive smile. He lowered his voice. "Which doesn't mean we can't have fun on the side."
I shook my head. "You're incorrigible! And you're not taking this matchmaking seriously." I paused and went for broke. It was ultimatum time. Time he knew exactly what I wanted and what my terms of engagement were.
"So you're giving me the choice of sneaking around with you, like a mistress, while publicly trying to match you with another woman?" I shook my head. "First of all, as a woman who respects herself, I refuse to sneak. A few quick rolls in the hay before I signed on any clients to this venture were one thing. They could be chalked up to having some fun and not hurting anyone.
"But an ongoing pattern of secret trysts is another thing completely. I'm not looking for that. I'll only give a relationship to a man who is open to committing to the long term with me. And that relationship will be public or not at all."
He opened his mouth to speak.
I ignored him and talked over him. "And secondly, my matchmaking ethics won't allow it in this situation. You're putting me in the worst possible situation. Of being a hypocrite and a false person.
"Remember what it means, what the matchmaking process entails. I'll be following up on the dates these women have with you. Coaching. Giving relationship advice. Listening to the intimate details of their time with you. How can I do that with what you're suggesting?"
"Fuck," he said again. "I'm out. I'm not doing it. No matchmaking."
"You can't be out," I said, panicking but presenting a calm front. "You promised. It's in the contract." I softened the blow as much as I could. "Besides, did you hear me? I've made some very good matches for you. And by very, I mean mind-blowing." I couldn't resist throwing his words back at him.
His jaw was set. He crossed his arms and leaned away from me.
"I shouldn't be telling you this," I said in my most confidential tone, letting my excitement shine through. "But I found you a perfect match."
I waited for him to respond. Most people would have jumped for joy. He lifted one eyebrow and kept his arms crossed.
"She matches you on all the compatibility points. All of them!" I sighed. "I've never seen a perfect match before." I let my awe shine through. "I mean, I know it can happen. But it's rare. So rare that it's what we all talk about in matchmaker circles. We dream about it."
I studied him. His expression was masked.
"You've lived a charmed life, Lazer. You have looks, wit, and wealth beyond most people's wildest dreams. Now fate is handing you another gift, another thing most people can only dream of. You'd be a fool to turn away the chance to meet your scientifically determined perfect match."
He lifted one eyebrow, looking perfectly cynical. "Scientifically?" He laughed sardonically. "That's not what I expected to hear from you. I thought you're a go-with-her-heart kind of woman. The heart wants what the heart wants." He paused. "Who is she?"
I smiled sweetly and mysteriously. "You think I'd just blurt something like that out to you?" I shook my head. "That's for you to find out. Are you game?"
Chapter 5
Ashley
As I waited for Lazer's response, my heart raced. I'd just upped the ante in this crazy game to the near impossible. "Your perfect match is my perfect professional opportunity to see if perfect matches recognize one another. And if so, how soon? If not, why not?
"She's here in Seattle, Lazer." I had to fight to keep my warring emotions out of it. "I'll do everything I can without actually tipping my hand to guide you to her. But you have to find her on your own. You have to give each of the women I match you with a fighting chance. And then honestly tell me your thoughts about them. What you like. What you don't. Whether you think they're the one. Why or why not." My voice rose higher in pitch with each word. I was just so passionate about matchmaking. And him. I forced myself to tone it down. "Everything."
His expression was hard. "If I don't find her, if I don't recognize her, if I don't want her, will you tell me who she is?"
Why were we always bargaining with each other?
I considered his request carefully. "If you've truly given finding her a real shot. Then, yes, it's only fair to tell you and share my
results. We're in this matchmaking business together now, after all. Whatever we learn could be useful to both of us and Pair Us."
It was a deal struck with the devil. If he didn't recognize me as his perfect match, what happened to us, our partnership, and the business when I told him? Would we, could we, both laugh it off and go on as business partners like before? What new havoc had Cupid wrought on us?
Lazer remained silent and thoughtful.
"Seriously, Lazer." I had to coax him into this. "There are nearly seven billion people on the planet. But even given that huge number, there are so many compatibility points that it results in very few perfect matches worldwide. No one has terribly many perfect matches, and the odds of them finding each other, meeting, living close enough to one to build a relationship is akin to winning the lottery—"
"All right."
I couldn't tell whether he sounded resigned or merely thoughtful. I had to resist jumping with glee. I had him where I wanted him. I had him having to seriously consider looking for a wife. Had him wondering whether it was wise to pass up the one woman in the world who had the potential to make him happy for a lifetime. Had him wondering if there was such a thing as a soul mate.
How could anyone resist a soul mate? Or a one in ten million chance of a lifetime? He'd have to be crazy. Totally heartless. Not believe in true love at all. In which case, was he really the man for me? And science could be tossed out as not recognizing a deal breaker when it saw one.
If anything would give me a shot at making a man who could commit out of him, this was it. My one hope.
Because truthfully? I'd felt the instant attraction. Seen how well we got along. Loved his sense of humor. Had my suspicions…
This was my shot in ten million as much as his. And I was determined to take it. Which meant proceeding with all caution. Wisely. Using everything I knew about matchmaking.
My heart beat with excitement. What would he say when he found out I was the one? Would he feel betrayed?
It was a chance I'd have to take. This was the only way I could think of to bring him to his senses. If this didn't work, I was going to walk away a highly jaded, cynical, brokenhearted woman. I was risking everything for this.
But it was the only way to remain true to my clients, my matchmaking ethics, and my heart.
I gave him a full-bodied smile that reached up from the depths of my heart and soul. "You won't be sorry."
But I might be. "There's one condition."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course there is. What is it?"
"You can't try to pry who it is out of me. You have to promise. No spying. No hacking into my computer. Nothing underhanded or dirty."
He pursed his lips and sighed, unaware that he had the world of love at his feet and my heart in his hands. All he had to do was recognize and reach for them.
"Killjoy." He sighed. "All right. No hacking. No Watergate-type break-ins to your office or the files at Pair Us." He looked resigned. "Who's up first in the dating lineup? And how soon do we get started?"
Lazer
Ashley had me in the palm of her hand. I didn't know how she did it, but she'd managed to bend me to her will. Again. She was so good at it that I never realized what she was doing until it was too late. I'd gone to her apartment thinking I'd end up in her bed. Thinking if I just slept with her again, I could put her out of my mind. As if that had worked the first time. But hey, if it backfired on me, what a way to go.
Instead I ended up leaving sexually frustrated and seriously thinking about esoteric topics like soul mates, perfect matches, and looking for a wife.
Perfect match? What the fuck?
Did I believe in that bullshit? How accurately did people fill out these surveys, anyway? And wasn't the first compatibility point in finding a spouse the actual desire to get married?
I had filled the survey out, as instructed by Ashley, as if I wanted to get married. It looked like I'd done too good a job. Why me? Why did I have to be the one who won this lottery of compatibility? Why not one of my friends who wanted, and deserved, a perfect match? I sure as hell didn't.
The guys were much better at this mathematical crap than I was. I was going to talk it over with them and do some research of my own. If it was true, I should be excited. A perfect match would mean the woman would enjoy sex as much as I did. Find the same things funny. Have the same ambitions. Recognize my moods as those of her own.
We'd be yin and yang. Lid to jar. Cap to crown. Enjoy each other's company more than any other. I'd never be alone again—
I couldn't decide if that last point was a good thing or not. This woman, whoever she was, would have to understand my need to do my own thing sometimes. Often. I frowned. Wasn't how much space you needed apart to do what you wanted a question on that damned survey?
There was only one catch with this catch—I'd have to give up all the other women. All my hottest bachelor fame. I'd have to settle down into domestic tranquility and bliss.
That was a hell of a catch. Could I do it?
Ah, hell. Let Ashley bring these women on. This could be fun. I might learn something about myself. Maybe I was the kind of guy who could turn down a perfect match.
What if I could turn this back on Ashley? Point out this perfect match was a myth, a fairytale, as well as exactly why this matchmaking science of Ashley's was biased and wrong. Mock science. Fake science. Quackery posing as science.
Yeah, Ashley had upped the stakes and raised the bar. Or so she thought. Was that a bad thing?
Time would tell. For now, I was bringing my A game. Let Ashley watch me woo these women. Let her regret her decision to prod me into it.
I paused, thinking through the ramifications. Ashley knew who my perfect match was. I'd promised not to cheat to find out. But how did Ashley feel about this match of mine? Was she at all jealous? Wouldn't it be fun to smoke her out?
Perfect match or not, I wanted Ashley. I would get that woman back in my bed. And I'd do it under my own terms.
Ashley
"Dylan! Cameron! Jeremy! Austin!" I hugged each one of them as I walked into the conference room at Pair Us' recently completed offices.
The offices had turned out better than I had hoped. Prettier. More sensual. Passionate. Romantic. Private. And, best of all, confidence inspiring.
"Ohmygosh! Look at you all." I stepped out of Austin's embrace and inspected the men.
They were fit and in shape, well dressed, and perfectly groomed for their style and personalities. Well-kept beards for those who had them. Great haircuts. Not only had they maintained their looks, they'd improved them.
I was so proud of each and every one of them. First impressions. They were going to make great first impressions.
"You're all so hot," I said in obvious awe and with just a hint of flirtation. "What did Stryker do to you all?"
"Nearly killed us," Austin said. "Feel this." He took my hand and guided to his abs.
"Definition," I said. "A real six-pack."
He waggled his eyebrows comically.
Dylan was perhaps the most changed physically. He'd slimmed down so much I hardly recognized him. He no longer had a soft roll at his belly. "That's nothing," he said. "I have one of those too. We all do."
Jeremy made a muscle. "Yeah, but look at this and weep. It's rock hard. Touch it. Come on. Give it a feel."
I squeezed it for show while Lazer watched from the sidelines. "Nice. Very impressive." I laughed again with tears in my eyes as the guys jostled for my attention. "I missed all of you!"
Cameron looked behind me. "Where are the women you promised?"
"Slow down," I said. "They're coming in the van. They'll be here any minute. Selfishly, I wanted a few minutes alone with all of you before they showed up and showed me up."
"You mean you wanted to make sure we were still presentable." Austin winked.
"You have my number." I laughed with them. "I'm only doing my job."
As if on cue, the door to the suite opened. Femi
nine voices floated in.
"Danika, Jenn, Stef, Becca, Kelsey, Erica, Elizabeth, Victoria, Alyssa, Vanessa…" I introduced the women as they strolled in.
Suddenly the jovial atmosphere evaporated. The men tensed.
"Nothing to fear here, gentlemen," I whispered to them. "Remember what I taught you. Make a great first impression. These women are just as eager to impress you as you are them. These are Manhattan women who are used to being treated like they're invisible. Give them your attention and you'll win them over."
From his position off to the side, Lazer watched the women come in. I could almost see the wheels of his mind turning. Which one was his perfect match? Or was she a Seattle girl that I was going to dazzle him with later?
Oh, my dear, dear Lazer. You've failed the first test of recognizing her already.
Lazer didn't know what I'd already realized—happiness in a relationship is largely a matter of timing and readiness to let love in.
Was that bit of knowledge worth the price of this experiment? Time would tell.
As the men and women mingled and introduced themselves, I strolled over to Lazer and whispered in his ear, "Spotted her yet?"
"You expect me to pick her out at first glance?"
I shrugged. "I have great faith in your playboy powers. So, yeah. Maybe."
"Why are your compliments always barbed?"
I shrugged. "I wasn't aware they were."
"Liar."
I laughed and leaned into him. He bent his head to mine so we could converse like the conspirators we were.
"Do you feel the excitement and sexual tension in here?"
His eyes lit up as he nodded. "You could cut it with a knife."
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I sighed happily. As I watched the men watch the women watch them, I could already tell this was going well. "Love and romance are in the air."
Lazer shook his head very slightly. "Eternal optimist."
"You love it, too," I said as the women took a tour of the office, guided by some of the men.
"Do I?" He watched his friends with an amused expression and rubbed his hands together for my benefit. "What are we waiting for? Let's get this ball rolling."
Dating Lazer: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Four Page 5