Immortal Matchmakers, Inc.

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Oh my God. Did I really grab that man’s crotch? She started to laugh. Wow, I really got into character. But if she didn’t somehow manage to get focused around him, he wouldn’t be ready for his part, she wouldn’t get paid, and she’d lose everything.

  Okay, Sadie. You can do this. You can do this. You are strong, independent and a fighter. She would not allow this man’s raw masculinity and overbearing machismo to get in the way of getting the job done.

  An image of him standing bottomless flashed in her mind. She’d never seen a more well-endowed, gorgeous, manly brick of muscles.

  This was going to be one hell of a week.

  ~~~

  After Sadie left his room, Andrus stood staring at the door, feeling winded and speechless. That woman was abrasive, bossy, and so godsdamned cruel, using her sexy little moves and body as a weapon against him. And the way she grabbed his cock, fearless and brazen, made him feel dizzy with lust.

  Who did she think she was, trying to subdue him with her feminine wiles? Did she think he was born yesterday?

  If she weren’t so beautiful, he would’ve taken her over his knee and taught her a lesson. Oh, wait. That sounds really nice. The thought of a little rough play with this saucy she-devil struck a sinful chord. She definitely brought out the dirty boy in him.

  Oddly enough, he’d actually been thinking of her when he tried to pop off a round just now. There’d been a moment at the restaurant, lying over her body, his cock snugly wedged between her thighs, that he couldn’t get out of his mind. She’d felt damned fantastic.

  Wait. This smells…fishy.

  He shook his head from side to side. It was no coincidence that his “teacher” was the sexy woman from the restaurant.

  Yes, this smells suspicious. Cimil is up to something. The issue being, one never knew what she was up to because her brain functioned in such a twisted manner that it was impossible to predict the angles. But one thing he knew for certain was that crazy goddess would always pretend to help while she led you into shark-infested waters. If you were lucky enough to survive, you’d surely be a few limbs short. She was the master of sadistic mind games, mayhem, and driving people to the brink of insanity, simply for the pleasure of watching them suffer.

  He rubbed his whisker-covered jaw. So what was Cimil up to? If she said that his second-chance mate was going to be at the party in six days, it was likely a lie. He’d show up to the party and find himself playing a pawn in some other game.

  No. That sounds too straightforward.

  Perhaps Cimil wished to dangle Sadie, who clearly disapproved of him, in his face just to make him squirm? Well, this Sadie certainly was sexy, but he squirmed for no woman. Of course, Cimil would know that.

  It makes no sense. What is that evil goddess up to?

  The little meat wench pounded on the door. “Hurry up in there!”

  He stared at the door. Hmmm… So Cimil wanted this sexy little vixen to teach him to “act” like a gentlemen so he could impress this Charlotte woman. However, everyone knew that mates were drawn to one another, so he’d bet that Cimil’s little speech about wooing had been a lie. Besides, even if he managed to woo the woman for a few minutes by behaving like some pompous, smooth-tongued Dapper Dan, what purpose would that serve? He was who he was—deadly, fierce, loyal, and…did he mention deadly? He was unapologetically male and damned proud of it. So this Charlotte, whoever she was, would have to love him for his true self: a three-hundred-year-old—give or take a few decades—immortal assassin. An ancient lethal warrior.

  That settles it. I’m not going to play along.

  He then thought about Matty. If Cimil wasn’t lying, then he could derail her little life.

  Andrus blew out a breath.

  “Hey! Are you touching yourself again?” Sadie pounded on the door. “What are you? Sixteen? Do that on your own sweet time!”

  Andrus had an idea. Cimil had obviously promised Sadie something in return for playing a part in the little plan. She had to be in on it. I’ll seduce the truth out of this little minx and turn her to Team Andrus.

  He slid on his cutoffs, grabbed his leather, steel-toed boots, and took a look in the mirror. He smiled and then pivoted to look at his ass. “Hmmm…not bad.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Sadie had argued in the hotel parking lot with the big man for ten entire minutes before she finally gave in. They would take his outrageously earth-unfriendly gas-guzzler to the beach instead of her fuel-efficient, emerald-green, hybrid Kia Soul.

  She sat in the passenger seat as he loaded her beach gear into the back of his black SUV. “This is completely ridiculous. You will fit in my car. You’re not a hippopotamus!”

  He hopped into the driver’s side and shut his door, gloating like a smug jackass. “Sorry. However, cocks like mine need a little breathing room.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of yourself. I’m surprised you don’t tow around a trailer on the back of this thing just to carry around your ego.”

  He cranked the engine and snickered. “Or to carry around my enormous cock.”

  Oh my God. This guy… “It’s a good thing you’re not lacking in the self-love department, because I can’t imagine anyone being able to put up with you.”

  He turned his body, about to back out, but stopped and looked at her with smoldering eyes. “I promise not to judge you when you finally admit to wanting me, my fierce little rabbit.”

  Fierce little rabbit? “My name is Sadie. Sadie Townsend. And I promise not to laugh at you when you start crying because it finally sinks in I will never want you.”

  At least for more than just a few little glances at your body and the occasional sex dream, which absolutely doesn’t count because I have no control over those.

  “Sadie,” he purred her name in a deep, velvety, bedroom voice. “It means princess.” He reached over and traced his finger along her collarbone. “But I think I shall call you Sexy Sadie, like the song.”

  For a brief moment, her body trembled from the sensual sensation of him touching her skin. Wait. Why’s he hitting on me? Did he sense her lack of interest and now felt it necessary to prove to himself that he could get her into bed?

  Why do I always attract the aggressive lunatics? For example, the last guy she went out with, before Tim, turned out to be a stalker. No. A real one. After just one date, he started showing up at her apartment late at night, to her work, and followed her to the grocery store. When she realized that telling him to go away wasn’t going to do the trick, she filed a restraining order. Thankfully, he stopped coming around right about the time she met Tim. Then there was her last boyfriend back home, whom she’d dated for six months. Unbeknownst to her, he liked to come to her window at night and watch her sleep. She finally found out when her father caught him. Anyway, they weren’t all complete weirdos, but she definitely reeled in men from the oddball end of the spectrum.

  “I think you should call me coach,” she said. “And if you must, Coach Sadie.” There. That would establish a professional boundary.

  “Coach Sexy Sadie. I like it.” He backed out, nearly running over a Fiat in the process. “Ah. There, you see? Had we been in your little woman-wagon, you would be dead. I have saved you.”

  Sadie clenched her eyes shut. Dear Lord, please give me the strength to not strangle the barbarian. “I am praying that was your character talking, because if you’re really this big of a man-pig, there are no amount of acting lessons that can help you.”

  “I assure you I am every bit the man-pig you just accused me of being, and I offer no apologies. If it weren’t for men such as myself, you’d all be sex slaves to packs of psychopathic, blood-drinking rapists.”

  Her head whipped in his direction. “Jesus. Dark much, Andrus?”

  “You have no fucking idea.”

  Sadie was about to speak when she noticed he suddenly radiated that same lethal vibe she’d seen at the restaurant. Only this time, it didn’t make her nervous as much as it intrig
ued her. His technique for taking on personas and creating a mood was phenomenal.

  “I know I’m going to kick myself for saying this, Andrus. But you really are pretty impressive.”

  He smiled and flashed her a cocky grin. “So I’ve been told.”

  She huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Knew I’d regret that.” More importantly, she was beginning to wonder something. This man might not be a dignitary or the embodiment of civilized gentlemen, but he seemed like a very capable actor. She hadn’t seen one lapse in this persona he’d taken on.

  Something about this situation felt…off.

  Welp. No choice now but to move forward. She just hoped he got the role.

  ~~~

  After an awkwardly quiet drive, they’d parked and found a somewhat quieter spot under a palm tree on the crowded beach. It was Sunday, so the crowds were typical for a sunny fall weekend, but the beach still had way more room to walk around and practice some role-playing.

  “So, Andrus,” she said, laying out her red beach blanket. “I assume you’re doing some kind of action film. What’s the setting? Air carrier, skyscraper, urban sprawl?”

  A woman in a very tiny pink bikini strolled by, and Andrus just stared.

  Okay, maybe the beach was a bad idea.

  “Did you see that one?” he asked. “Her ass is hanging out. Her parents should be informed.” His head flipped in the other direction as a blonde in a black thong bikini jogged by. “Good gods. Were they raised in a brothel?”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” she said. “Especially coming from someone who showed me his penis about an hour ago?”

  “That was very different,” he said, in a deep authoritative voice. “I am a man and you are a grown woman. Those females are children, no older than seventeen or eighteen.”

  “I thought you said I was a little girl.” She flipped out her blue folding chair.

  “I was referring to your mental age; however, if you wore something so revealing to a public beach and you were my woman, I would throw you over my shoulder and give your exposed ass cheeks a lesson with my hand.”

  The mental image of that was wrong in so, so many ways, yet it somehow turned her the hell on.

  No. No, it didn’t. You definitely do not want to be flung over his shoulder and spanked. And it was a chauvinistic thing to say. Of course, he is just acting. At least…I hope he is.

  “Andrus, what time period is your character from?”

  He stared blankly.

  “Oh sorry.” He was in character. “What year were you born?”

  “1683.”

  Well, the time period explained the deep-rooted chauvinism. “So you’re doing a historical action film?”

  He grinned. “It’s more of a romance.”

  “Oh, boy. Then we really have our work cut out. So our first lesson is going to be about how to speak to a woman—”

  He stood up. “I think I’ll go for a swim. Care to join me?”

  “What?”

  “A swim. It’s been centuries since I’ve been in the ocean.”

  “Centuries, huh? Well, I’m sorry, but no. We need to work, Andrus. I have less than a week to get you ready, or I don’t get paid.”

  “You should’ve negotiated for a better deal.” He kicked off his boots and stripped off his shirt.

  Holy mother of God.

  As her eyes scaled up his abs, the deep grooves of his washboard stomach flexing with fiercely seductive power, she found herself mesmerized. The light olive skin of his bare arms and chest and…Oh my God. This guy is built like an evil sexy tank. And whether she liked it or not, her female libido reacted—nipple tingles, core flutters, the whole nine yards. Or ten inches, in his case.

  Andrus caught her blatantly drooling and then winked. “You’re welcome.” He dipped his head of thick, messy dark hair, turned, and slowly made his way toward the water.

  Sadie watched along with every other woman within eyeshot. They all stopped whatever they were doing—volleyball, applying suntan oil, kissing their boyfriends, or avoiding trees while they were rollerblading—Watch out! Oh, that had to hurt. Even the men stopped to fume in Andrus’s general direction, seething with a territorial-type jealousy as he practically floated over the sand, his naturally tanned muscles flexing and pumping in a hypnotic rhythm as he strolled toward the waves.

  He looked like a fucking god. Tall, lean, menacing ropes of—

  He jumped head first into a wave, startling Sadie from her little sexually charged, mental detour.

  “Wow.” Okay. She had to admit, there was something about the man that was different. Almost like he was from another world, shamelessly defying all the rules. She, for example, found his attitude repugnant and chauvinistic, yet he’d still managed to get her to gawk. And that body? Sinfully sexy in a way that spoke to some hidden quiet female animal inside her.

  Sadie sat staring at the waves, trying to figure out what exactly it was about the man that made him so annoyingly seductive, when she realized he hadn’t come up for air.

  The surf didn’t look all that rough today, but the flags on the lifeguard towers were yellow. Some undertow.

  Before permitting herself to panic, she stood and began scanning the waves and bobbing heads out beyond the break. Only a few surfers and boogie boarders paddled around. No Andrus.

  Okay. Now I’m worried. She started jogging toward the spot where he dove in, looking for any sign of the big man.

  Nothing.

  Oh, hell. Just my luck. The man can’t swim.

  She turned toward the lifeguard shack, but the tower was empty. Oh my God. Oh my God.

  She looked back toward the waves, completely freaking the hell out. Just then, a large wave crested and came crashing in. She caught a glimpse of a body rolling in the white water.

  “Andrus! Shit!” She charged into the waves, fighting the current to get to him, but when she got to the spot, he wasn’t there. No, no, no. Where is he? A wave slammed into her body, knocking her over. She fought to get her head back up, twisting every which way in the water, searching for him.

  Then her eyes spotted his limp form lying facedown in the shallow waves.

  “Fuck!” She used her arms to jog through the water, making her way to him. “Andrus. Andrus!”

  By then a few others had noticed him lying there and were rushing over.

  She dropped to her knees, panting hard, and flipped him over. His beautiful face was covered in wet sand, but he didn’t look blue.

  “No, dammit.” He wasn’t breathing.

  She jumped on top of him and started compressions. Luckily, CPR was a class she’d had in high school—her mother’s insistence when she began babysitting her younger sister.

  Sadie popped open his mouth and tilted back his head to position the tongue and gave him a puff. Then another.

  She suddenly felt a soft, warm tongue slide inside her mouth, flicking against her own tongue.

  What the fuc—

  Two strong arms wrapped around her, simultaneously flipping her back to the sand. He kissed her hard, pinning her with half his body, holding her tight with those big bulky biceps.

  Sonofabitch. She bit down on his lip, and he pulled away.

  “Ow. That hurt,” he whined.

  “You dirty, horrible sonofabitch!” She pounded his shoulder with her fist. “I thought you were dead.”

  He grinned devilishly. “Oops. I guess not. But I’m flattered to find that you care so much.” His lips shot toward her mouth, and she turned her head, trying to wiggle away.

  “Get the hell off me!”

  He let her go and began laughing with a deep, hearty chuckle. “What? I just wanted a kiss.”

  She popped to her feet. “Nothing to see, everyone,” she said to the crowd who’d gathered around—all women, of course. “The asshole was just faking it.” She marched off to go get her stuff. This was ridiculous.

  “Wait. Sadie,” Andrus said, catching up to her, “I
was merely having a little fun. Come on…”

  He made an attempt to grab her arm, and she jerked it away. “Fuck the hell off, you sick bastard.”

  “Oh. Come now. You know you liked it.”

  What a complete and total pig! She swiveled on her heel. “Is this some joke to you? Is it? Because it’s not to me. I need this job. I need this money. Don’t you get that? Don’t you have any idea how hard I work just to have a chance to live my dream?”

  No longer smiling, he looked down at her with those thick lashes and turquoise eyes. “Fantastic acting, my little meat wench, but I’m not buying it.”

  “Buying what?” she fumed.

  “We both know you’re not here to help me. But if you come clean and tell me everything, I’ll let you have a night in my bed.”

  “Oh my god,” she snarled. “You really are a prick. And you sure as hell don’t deserve the chance you’re being given. Anyone I know would kill to have the opportunity for a movie role. Hell, I would kill for it. But here you are, pissing it away, which makes you an even bigger ass than I thought.”

  She marched off, feeling like she actually might kill the man. Kill him. With a butter knife.

  “Keep up the acting, woman! You are quite marvelous at it,” she heard him call out from a distance.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mother of all things tempting and delicious. Zac stared at Tula’s creamy smooth calves as she bent over, watering the new plants she’d had delivered this morning. She’ll be the death of me.

  Over the last several days, she’d worn a knee-length skirt with daisies, an ankle-length dress with blue squiggly things, and some other outfit that had a high neckline. None of her outfits were tight or sexy or revealing. In fact, they covered too much. But that was what made it so hard to look away. The more prim and proper she dressed, the bigger the prize of tempting her.