Matched with the Billionaire

by Audra Cole

  My heart jumped into a frantic rhythm as I stared at the back-lit screen. What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of cosmic joke? I knew I should have been paying more attention to Veronica when she read my monthly horoscope…

  I typed out a series of replies, deleting each one and starting again, before finally landing on something blunt: I remember you putting your number into my phone. But I don’t remember you mentioning that you swiped mine at the same time.

  His reply came half a second later: Call it insurance.

  I shook my head, unable to hold back a small smile. Clever bastard. I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth and lightly worked it back and forth as I stared at the screen. It was now or never. The Valentine’s Day Mingle was less than a week away and from the brief conversation the night at the bar, I knew Landon would be in town at least through the week. I had no intention of going to Seattle to chase him down. No, it would be easier if I could sign him while he was in town, find him some fantastic woman at the event, and send them both to Seattle so that I could get on with my life and start celebrating my imminent promotion.

  “It’s like a Band-Aid, Candace. Just like a Band-Aid,” I muttered to myself as I tapped out my next reply: I’ve reconsidered your offer for dinner. Still free Wednesday night? 8:00, right?

  I grinned at his cocky reply: I knew you’d come around.

  Ten minutes later, I had a date. Except that it wasn’t a date at all. In fact, it was pretty much the opposite. I had to convince him that we should start seeing other people before we even got a chance to see one another.

  ***

  Landon Jeffers was the pitch of all pitches. Signing this one man would make the rest of my career. My entire future balanced on his perfectly squared shoulders. Shoulders that were made for kissing … biting … or holding onto for dear, sweet life while riding his, no doubt equally perfect—

  Whoa, Candace, no need to get a lady boner … dial it down.

  After two and a half agonizing days, it was finally Wednesday evening and I strode between the two marble columns outside the chic Mediterranean restaurant I’d chosen. I felt confident that I’d walk back out with a signed client contract in my hands. I’d done all the visualization shit the big shot business people tell you to do. Although, to be fair, most of that visualizing had gone off track—mostly to thoughts of what Landon’s exquisite fingers could do besides hold a pen.

  Landon was already inside the restaurant when I walked through the door held open by a man in a pair of black slacks and a wine-red polo shirt. I’d arrived twenty minutes early in order to have a solo drink and seeing Landon there unnerved me. He, on the other hand, looked pleased as punch. His eyes immediately took a slow, lingering tour of my curves, wrapped in the clingy coral dress I’d selected. It brought out what was left of my deep summer tan and played nicely with my gold feather earrings and bangle bracelets.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, approaching me with the slow, measured paces of a jungle cat. Smooth. Silent. Dangerous.

  He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him for a lingering embrace. The smell of his intoxicating cologne surrounded me and I swallowed hard. Why does he have to smell so damn good?

  “Thank you for coming,” I said, silently reminding myself that it was inappropriate to marvel over the solid physique of a client. It didn’t matter how firm his chest was or how flat his abs were. They weren’t for me. Look, don’t touch.

  I stepped back and Landon let me go, although somewhat reluctantly. “Our table will be ready in a few minutes. Let’s wait at the bar.” He slipped a hand around me, letting it rest on my lower back, and then steered me into the softly lit bar area.

  I smiled politely and took the chair he pulled out for me.

  “You going to venture away from iced tea tonight?” he teased, taking his seat at the table for two.

  I laughed. “I think I’ll do a vodka cranberry with a slice of lime.”

  Landon smiled deeply and placed the order with the bartender when he circled around. “What shall we drink to?” he asked when the drinks were delivered. He held his tumbler up and turned it so it caught the light and gleamed. His eyes never left mine. “To second chances?”

  My stomach flipped. It would be so easy to let myself go. To fall into his dark eyes and lose myself in his charming smile. I hesitated to reach for my own glass. “First, I have to confess something.”

  Landon’s eyes sparked. “Do tell.”

  Before I could work out the phrasing inside my head, the hostess rushed over and informed Landon the table was ready. Landon stood, buttoned his suit jacket, and reached for my hand. I stared at the outstretched fingers for a long moment before surrendering and placing my hand in his. Touching him, feeling his smooth skin and the way his fingers wrapped around mine only rattled my resolve further as we walked to our table.

  Landon held my hand until we reached the table where he insisted, once again, on pulling out my chair and waiting until I was seated before taking his own place opposite me. The hostess listed off the specials and then wandered back to her place at the front desk. I watched her go and then let my eyes slowly drift back to Landon as a rampant pep talk played through my mind: It’s business. He’s just another potential client. You sell the benefits of the service, don’t take no for an answer, and go home—alone—with a contract and a clenched spot at the Seattle office. ABC’s. Always be closing. All that shit. Now … go!

  Landon smiled when my eyes finally met his. “Let’s get back to the part where you were about to tell me about all the naughty dreams you’ve been having about me.”

  I’m not going to let you sway me, Mr. Jeffers, I thought, smiling to myself. Though he obviously interpreted my expression as a reward for his provocative statement. I reached for my water goblet and took a slow, lingering sip. Let him keep spinning his wheels for a minute longer.

  “That hot, huh?” Landon quipped, watching my lips intently as I drank.

  I set the water glass aside. “Actually, I have been thinking about you a lot.”

  He smiled.

  “But probably not in the way you’d expect,” I continued.

  He arched one of his thick, but impeccably groomed eyebrows. “Okay. I’m intrigued.”

  This was it. Do or die.

  “I’m a matchmaker. I work for a firm called Matched Consulting.

  “A matchmaker?”

  “Yes.” I smiled. “Now, I know that sounds a little old fashioned, but we bring the ancient practice of matchmaking into the 21st century. We combine the art of matching with the latest in cutting-edge science and technology to pair clients with potential mates and then go on to provide ongoing consulting to get couples through their first year together to ensure a solid foundation is laid before them.” I paused, gaging Landon’s reaction. He was sitting a little straighter in his seat, but his face remained unchanged. “We’re headquartered in Santa Monica and people fly in from all over the country to attend our matchmaking events. We even have a few international clients. Our success rate is over 90% and we have thousands of couples to back up our stats as being the most effective way to find a long-term relationship.”

  Landon leaned back, his eyes still searching mine, as if he thought he might be getting taken for a ride. While he was still considering it, our server approached, apologizing profusely for the wait. I ordered my own drink and entree and handed him my menu while Landon was still staring at me. The server turned toward him and he snapped to life, rattling off an order as though he’d been to the restaurant before. He hadn’t even glanced at his menu since being seated. The server nodded and took off at a quick clip toward the kitchen.

  “You’ve been here before?” I asked.

  Landon shook his head. “I looked up the menu ahead of time. I like to be prepared.”

  I nodded, filing away that random factoid.

  “Let me ask you something,” he started, still eying me skeptically. “Why do I feel like I’m being pitched
to?”

  I drew in a quick breath. “I’ll be blunt, this isn’t so much a date, as an invitation. A man of your caliber has certain challenges when it comes to finding that special someone. Matched Consulting can help with that and we would love for you to join our platinum membership and be one of the first clients when we expand into our new Seattle branch this fall.”

  “You’re serious?” He scoffed, comprehension dawning in his eyes. “What makes you think I’d be interested in some matchmaking bullshit? You met me at a bar, ran home to Google me, and thought, shit, he’s a rich guy, I’ll try to squeeze him into buying into this … this club membership?”

  “Not at all,” I replied, not flinching at the acid in his tone. “Actually, you were a referral.”

  That shut him up. His jaw was still tense but the fire in his eyes fizzled. “A referral?”

  “Gina Rowe, your partner? She spoke with our CEO, Leticia Morgan, and recommended we reach out to you.”

  “Shit,” he hissed under his breath. He reached for his tie and tugged at it. “She mentioned something about this. I never thought she’d offer me up on a fucking platter though.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t know who you were when I met you at the bar and I haven’t Googled you.”

  Landon frowned. “I would feel better if you’d extended an invitation to your office instead of pretending to go on a date…”

  “Hey,” I raised my hands. “You’re the one who swiped my phone and plugged in your number. The opportunity presented itself, so I took advantage. Can you really fault me for that?”

  He considered me for a long moment then relented. “I suppose not.”

  “Listen,” I interjected, leaning forward with one hand palm down on the table. “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Let’s enjoy our meal, take the pressure off, and relax.”

  Landon measured me with a steely glance but then inclined his head and agreed with a flash of a smile. “All right, but you still owe me a dirty story.”

  Adding stubborn and persistent to his profile…

  Chapter Five

  “So how long have you been single?”

  Landon narrowed his eyes in my direction before a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I know what you’re doing.”

  I gave a wide-eyed innocent stare and shrugged my shoulders. “What?”

  He chuckled into his wine glass and then took a sip. “You’re profiling me. This is like seeing a shrink and watching them compulsively scribble notes the whole damn time.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Hmm. So you’ve seen a lot of shrinks, then?” I teased. “Should I write that down?”

  Landon laughed and I went still. His smile was magnetic. When he laughed, it was heart-stopping. “You’re something else, huh?”

  “Too much?” I asked with a smirk.

  He grinned back at me. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  I laughed and lifted my fork. “Fair enough.”

  Landon licked his lips before raising his glass of wine and a flare of heat threatened to melt me from the inside out.

  “So, tell me, how does this usually work?” he asked, eying me expectantly.

  It took me a moment to dial down my wet-panty meter long enough to hear something other than my hormones screaming at me. I swished back some ice water. “Hmm? Work?”

  God, I’d like to work him.

  Landon grinned, almost like he knew why I was flustered. “This matchmaker thing. How does it work? I mean, I picture it like a cattle call, but maybe there’s more to it. There must be, right?”

  “Quite a bit more,” I answered. “Our clients come to us, usually after trying everything else. Online dating, blind dates, the bar scene. When they come to us, they’ve realized that they need a more personal approach. So that’s what we offer. As a matchmaker, my job is to get to know you, learn what you want, and what you need, and find you a match that fits both of those things. At Matched Consulting, we don’t just parade a bunch of women around and hope one of them catches your attention.”

  Okay, that wasn’t quite true, but we only did that when we were really, really desperate, and it certainly wasn’t a part of the sales pitch.

  “And what if I wanted a parade of women?” Landon asked with a wide grin. “What if I said that sounded like one hell of a good time?”

  I hitched my shoulder. “Then I’d tell you there’s a high-class strip joint two blocks down from here and if you wanna make it rain you can hit it up after midnight and get all the tits and ass you can stand.”

  Landon laughed. “You don’t pack any punches, huh?”

  I took another long sip from my wine glass. “I’m a professional, Mr. Jeffers. At the end of the day, if you tell me you just want to chase skirt and get wild, I can point you in the right direction. I hold a master’s degree in sociology and have been working as a matchmaker for three years. It’s my job, my passion, to partner with each and every client and work with them to ensure they find the love of their life, not a six-month heartbreak waiting to happen. I have a long list of success stories, and I know that if you gave me a chance, I could find you the woman of your dreams.”

  Landon’s smile slid away as he watched me, a new glint of interest in his eyes. He reached for his wine glass. “You really believe in this matchmaking stuff?”

  “I do.” My answer came without thought or hesitation. Personally, I couldn’t claim to be a shining success story, but then again, I met my most recent ex-boyfriend in a bar, and let’s just say the screening process was a little less stringent and mostly cheered on by my favorite frenemy: Jose Cuervo.

  “I must say, Candace, I’m intrigued. However, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

  “Then why did Gina tell us to call you?”

  Landon laughed. “Gina and I go way back, ten—twelve years now. She recently met this guy and they’re insane about each other. She talks about him constantly. Apparently, she wants to spread the infection.”

  I bristled. “So, to you, love is an infection? A sickness?”

  Landon shrugged. “Without getting into it, let’s just say that I haven’t exactly had a lot of luck with it.” His words were laced with some deeper emotion and the flicker in his eyes as he lowered them to his plate was a dead giveaway. He hid it well. Most people wouldn’t have been able to pick up on it. But it was my job to read and study people and Landon’s tell wasn’t all that tough to spot.

  As much as I wanted to dive in and figure out what was behind his statement, I knew that if I wanted to close the deal, it didn’t serve me to get hung up on his past pain. “Tell you what, we’re having a big Valentine’s Day Mingle this Friday. Starts at seven o’clock. Free drinks, excellent food, and a ton of gorgeous women. You want your parade? Tell me what you like and I’ll make sure a few of the women in attendance are just to your taste and interests. No commitments, no contracts. A free sample of what I can do for you.”

  Landon’s gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips, dilating slightly when I nervously licked them. “I’ll tell you what I like,” he drawled slowly as he leaned across the table. “I like brunettes. Athletic and tall, but with soft curves in all the right places.” His lingering stare dropped lower, eying the neckline of my dress as a half-cocked smile spread across his full lips.

  My heart jumped into my throat and started racing. Dear God … I want this man.

  Even when Landon’s eyes lifted from my curves, I was still breathless, hanging onto his every word. “She has to have her own thing. I don’t want a desperate housewife who is more concerned with shopping and brunching than she is about the world around her. A woman with passion. Fire. The kind of woman who won’t take no for an answer.” He smiled again and let the beat of silence steep between us for another long moment before he released me and reached for his wine glass. “You think you could find someone like that before Friday? I’m very particular.”

  The only certainty was that I needed to get away
from him before I did something stupid.

  By some small miracle, I managed a nod as I forced breath back into my lungs. “I can make that happen.”

  He smiled and inclined his head. “All right, then I’ll check my calendar and see if I’m free on Friday night.”

  “Great.” The prize was far from mine, but at least I was a few steps closer.

  While my head was still spinning, wondering how on earth I was supposed to stay focused on the party if Landon was there, flirting with other women, the server swooped in to clear away our dishes and dropped off the check. Once the server darted off, I reached for the slip of paper but Landon was much faster. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

  “Let me,” I said, waving a hand. “This was a business dinner. It should be on me.”

  “Like hell,” Landon scoffed. He slipped a black credit card from his wallet and inserted it into the leather folio. He snapped it closed and placed it on the edge of the table before shifting his eyes back to mine. The corners of his mouth turned up. “Besides, I don’t think you’ve been thinking purely business-like thoughts tonight.”

  I laughed even as my cheeks warmed. “Is that the IRS standard? For a write off to be valid you have to think business the entire time? Goodness, I’m going to have to have a very long chat with the company accountant tomorrow morning.”

  Landon laughed and started to bat back a reply before the server swooped in to make small talk about the meal. Landon answered the man’s questions politely but kept his blazing eyes locked with mine the entire time. When everything was squared away, Landon rose from his seat and then offered me a hand. I let him assist me up and then escort me to the front of the restaurant, one large hand on my lower back the entire way.

  Once outside, we discovered we were headed in opposite directions. I started walking away, when Landon caught my hand and pulled me in close enough that my breasts brushed against his chest. “When am I seeing you again?” he asked in a low, husky voice that had every inch of my skin hot.