Dating Lazer: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Four

by Robinson, Gina

  "What's that look for?" I said. "Just because you didn't use a matchmaker to find Haley doesn't mean it doesn't work."

  He shook his head and chuckled. "My dear boy," he said in a fake British accent that was actually pretty decent. "But I did. I just didn't hire him. He was unconventional in that he was dead. You will remember that my predecessor, the Dead Duke, arranged my marriage from the grave."

  "Oh, that," I said dismissively. "That wasn't matchmaking. That was blackmail."

  He grinned back. "Right you are, in one respect. But the result was the same. I ended up married when getting a wife hadn't even been on my radar."

  I frowned as my cell phone rang. "A guy can't get a minute's peace from the business." I pulled my phone from my pocket. Ashley.

  My pulse raced. "Excuse me a minute," I said to Riggins. "I have to take this. My matchmaker is calling. The matchmaking business never rests." I walked away from the table into the orchard for privacy.

  "Watch yourself," Riggins called after me. "Don't go off the path and into the poison without gloves."

  I heard him laughing as I picked up Ashley's call.

  "Good news," she said without saying hello.

  "Hello to you, too."

  "Shut up. I'm excited."

  Hearing her voice excited me.

  "I could have texted, I guess. But it's more fun to call. I wanted to hear the pleasure and surprise in your voice. There are so few things a normal person can give a billionaire!"

  She laughed in that tinkling way that I'd missed. Whatever she was up to, whatever had warmed the chill between us by even a degree, I'd take it. This was the Ashley I wanted. The one I liked.

  "I've found the fifteenth woman!" Her voice bubbled over with happiness.

  "What?" That was good news. Very good news.

  It meant Ashley would move to Seattle. And I'd have a chance to clear things up between us.

  "Yes!" Her voice sparkled.

  How could sheer delight be such a turn-on?

  "Everything's set. The last woman is a bit of a maverick, but she agreed to my terms and signed the paperwork this afternoon. Look out, Seattle! Here come the brides! Well, potential brides and beta testers. Aren't you thrilled?"

  I hesitated. She sounded like she was up to something.

  "Lazer?"

  "I'm here. Is that a devious note I detect in your voice? What have you got up your sleeve? Tell me about this woman."

  Ashley laughed. "You always expect the worst of me."

  "I wouldn't say that. I always expect you to use your superior intelligence to try to outwit and outplay me."

  "Try?" She laughed. "You think highly of yourself. Is this a game we're playing, Lazer?"

  "You know it is." It was a game where she always kept me off balance. "Business is always a game," I said, hiding my feelings from her. "The woman?"

  "Perfect in practically every way. She's going to make someone a fantastic match."

  "By someone I assume you mean me."

  "I mean someone." She paused. "How are things in England? I saw the pictures of you with your new godson. Very cute."

  "Him or me?"

  She laughed again. "Both of you. But he's perfectly adorable and you look like you know your way around a baby. Has the duchess convinced you of the joys of marriage yet?"

  "Scared me off."

  "Too bad." She didn't sound sad at all. "You'll have to work that much harder to look convincing in your quest for a mate. But I have complete faith in your acting abilities."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "I gotta go!" She paused. "I'll see you in Seattle in a few days."

  "Can't wait." I couldn't. I really couldn't. And that was the hell of it. As much as I was determined to get her out of my system, I couldn't wait to see her.

  I took a deep breath and looked up at the blue sky peeking through the gold and orange of the leaves above me. Hell, how was I going to deal with this? With Ashley? And why were peach trees in a poison garden?

  I paused to satisfy my curiosity and read a placard stuck in the ground next to the tree.

  Peach pits contain cyanide. If ground up and ingested in large enough quantities, they can poison and even kill humans…

  Riggins was right. Even the ordinary could have poison lurking. I shook my head and headed back to the table. Riggins looked up from his phone as I approached.

  His face lit up in a grin and he shook his head. "I get it now." He chuckled to himself.

  "Get what?"

  "You're in love with the matchmaker!" He was too damned amused by the thought.

  I scowled at him. "You're crazy."

  "Am I?" He kept shaking his head. "I know what I see. If you didn't want me to know, you should have washed that lovesick glow off your face before you came back. A roll in the poison ivy might do it. Though you have a bad case, my friend.

  "A nip of hemlock?" He nodded. "Serious times call for serious measures. Hemlock could have frozen it off your face. Nasty side effects, though."

  "Droll, very droll, duke."

  He wouldn't stop shaking his head. "Lazer in love. Almost makes me lose my faith in humanity."

  "You mean restore," I said testily.

  He shook his head more vehemently. "I meant what I said. If you're in love, what hope is there for the less jaded?"

  Chapter 3

  Ashley

  In 1864, Asa Mercer arrived in Seattle with a group of young women from Lowell, Massachusetts. The newly elected president of the University of Washington, only twenty-five and single and looking for a wife himself, had convinced the young women, many of them teachers, to come west in the middle of the Civil War. Men needed wives and children needed teachers, after all. He convinced the women to come to Washington Territory with the promise of honorable work and good wages. Win-win for all.

  Hmmmm…if that online info I'd looked up was correct, there really wasn't that much difference in what we were doing today—offering good wages and the shot at a billionaire husband to women from Manhattan. Anecdotal evidence that there really were no new ideas, only new implementations.

  So here I was on chartered plane with Lottie beside me, surrounded by fifteen women under the age of thirty-five. They were confident, strong, successful women. They really didn't need me to keep an eye on them. But I felt responsible for them and like their coach nonetheless.

  As we prepared to deplane, I took a deep breath. Lazer was supposed to meet us. The thought made my heart race. My hands went cold and my mouth dry. I lifted my chin. This was supposed to be a PR op. Lazer's team was on it. This would be the first phase of our quest for world use of our app. A tease of it to build desire to be part of the inside crowd who got a chance to use and test it. We needed far, far more people, both men and women testing it, to prove it worked.

  I'd warned the women we'd be met by the press. Now, in the last minutes before the door opened, a cloud of perfume floated through the plane. The cabin smelled like the perfume counter in any high-end department store in the country. The air was tense with anticipation.

  We were travelling with one of New York's top makeup artists. She was busily doing last-minute touchups to all the girls while the hair guy did his job and added to the cloud of perfume with a mist of hairspray and other products.

  Lazer had, again, spared no expense. I was struck once again by how many things in a billionaire's life seemed surreal. Who, besides famous actors, performers, or politicians, travelled with hair and makeup at their elbows?

  Lazer had argued that this wasn't anything unusual, and that only having one hair and one makeup artist was actually frugal compared to many of the wealthy people he knew. Okay. Whatever. I knew the women were key to enticing Seattle's single men to sign up for the app and our matchmaking services. But I wanted them to see that they were getting real women with so many more qualifications and wonderful qualities beyond their looks.

  I know, that sounded like I was going against one of my cardinal ru
les that you need to look your best to attract a good mate. Put on the dog, as they say. Maybe it was only my irritation that Lazer had thought of this before I had that was peeving me. Or that he could afford it so easily and would be the first target of many of this group.

  I braced myself and led the women out of the plane. As always at the end of a flight, I was glad for that first breath of fresh air. It wasn't that I had a fear of flying. But my lungs cried out for air not tinged with perfume.

  It was a beautiful fall day in Seattle. The skies really were blue. That song about Seattle having the bluest skies may have been tongue in cheek, but blue skies had been my total experience. Lazer should have been happy. Seattle was showing very well today.

  I stood at the top of the gangplank and waved like a princess to a crowd of reporters waiting for us on the ground. I searched for Lazer. Our eyes met. I felt that jolt of desire that shouldn't have been unexpected by now. But I kept hoping it would go away. That what I felt for Lazer was nothing more than a crush and would fade away. I knew that wasn't true, but I remained undeterred in my false optimism. If Lazer didn't love me, couldn't love me, wouldn't love me, I wanted my heart back. At the very least, it should retreat to the dead of winter and stay safely dead with Ruck.

  The ache of love and longing at seeing Lazer again brought a lump to my throat. But all that met me in his eyes was determination and dark amusement. What had I done to him except admit that I loved him?

  And then ran out on him. Oh, that. He wouldn't still be upset about that, would he? That was the stereotype most men wanted, right? Sleep with a woman and then not call in the morning. I'd simply saved him the trouble of not calling. Was his ego bruised that I'd usurped his right not to call and to leave me hanging?

  He was standing on the tarmac next to a round table covered with a white tablecloth and strewn with wrapped chocolates. A large vase filled with a bouquet of individually ribboned and wrapped red roses took center stage. But still paled next to Lazer.

  The wind tousled his dark hair, making him not only hot, but adorably hot. I clenched my hand into a fist. Must resist the urge to run my fingers through his hair. And tame the unruly nature of it and him.

  The group of women behind me grew restless with anticipation. I felt them surging forward for a glimpse of their new hometown and a wealthy man who might, maybe, could be the future husband of one of them. I made myself face the inevitable, the press, and him.

  As I started down the stairs, I was keenly aware of the reaction of the women behind me as they got their first glance of Lazer and his table of roses. I felt their awe. Heard them hold their breath. Heard their whispers to each other as they spotted Lazer.

  Isn't he hot?

  He's taller than I expected.

  One of us will be very lucky. I hope it's me.

  There's no guarantee he'll pick one of us.

  No, but we get first shot at him.

  A barrage of questions from the reporters at the foot of the stairs took my attention away from the whispered chatter of the women. I stepped aside to address them while my new arrivals filed past me to get their shot at making a stellar first impression on Lazer.

  I'd coached them each on making a stunning first impression. Their success with him would be all my fault. How would I live with myself knowing I'd thrown these beautiful, delightful, handpicked women at him?

  The questions came at me from all sides.

  "What is the nature of this venture?"

  "Tell us about this secret app we've been hearing rumors of?"

  "I do believe you've brought more women with you than Asa Mercer managed to bring a hundred and fifty or so years ago. But you do realize our population is a lot larger now? You're going to need more than, what? Fifteen?"

  I gave the answers I'd been coached on by our lawyers and media consultants while the women continued to stream past me. I felt the awe in each of them as they spotted Lazer. Even the calmest, maturest of the women wasn't immune to his charm and charisma.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him hug each woman, whisper something in her ear, and hand her a rose as if he was The Bachelor.

  At last I managed to break free from the reporters to pose with Lazer for a photo op.

  I hugged him politely and professionally as the cameras went off around us, trying to keep my seething and my passion for him from the camera. He hugged me back coolly, placing his arm around me and resting it at my waist in what might have been considered a possessive move under other circumstances.

  A string of cars waited to take the women to their new apartments. I slid into one with Lazer. Just him and me.

  "Wooing the women already?" I said, more snidely than I meant to sound, but with an amused quirk of my lips to soften the blow. "You looked every inch the bachelor out there. I hope you liked the selection of women I brought with me."

  I couldn't resist taunting him. It was better than bathing in the tension between us. If only I could determine if that tension was sexual heat and frustration or simple anger on his part. Maybe it was a little of each. One could hope at least part of it was desire.

  "You brought a journalist." He was grinning, too, but his tone of voice made it sound like I was the Benedict Arnold here.

  I could spar with him and get angry. Or I could toss it back at him and laugh. "You're quick with finding out about the women. Remind me to be on my guard around you. The government should send you out as a spy. You're quick with all kinds of seducing, including seducing information out of people."

  "You're avoiding the issue," he said, resting his hand next to mine on the seat.

  I was aware of it. And him. Too aware.

  "Was she number fifteen?" he said, almost too casually.

  I studied him. "I'm impressed. Yes, she was."

  He frowned very slightly. Just a crease in his forehead, really. Almost imperceptible. "Isn't she the one who wrote that damning article about you where she accused you of being ageist and discriminatory?"

  I nodded.

  "I'll say this for you—you don't hold a grudge."

  That should have been a compliment, I supposed. It would have been if there hadn't been an edge to his voice. Clearly, he thought I was holding one against him.

  "You've never heard the saying, Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

  His eyes narrowed. "So what am I? Friend or enemy?"

  I hadn't expected him to be so direct. "Oh, friend, of course."

  He didn't look as if he believed me. "Let me get this straight. If I want to get closer to you, I should really get on your bad side? Stab you in the back?"

  I laughed lightly at his deliberate misinterpretation of my words. The sad truth was that he'd had the power to get closer to me than I'd ever let anyone. He chose not to use it. Or maybe he was simply incapable. And now it might have been too late. We were too deep into this other thing.

  I lifted an eyebrow. "Your mind works in odd ways, Lazer darling. I'd expect more from a man who claims to know so much about women and relationships…of all kinds. There's more than one way to closeness. Some are just harder to find and commit to."

  "From the mouth of a relationship expert." His face was a mask. "I'll keep that in mind, friend. Speaking of friends, I thought you liked mine. So why have you brought this bitter journalist to introduce to them?"

  "I do! I love your friends."

  "But you want to match them with an enemy of yours?" He paused. "Or is it me you're gunning for with her?"

  I gave him my guileless look. Way too innocent. "Every woman I brought with me wants a shot at you, my darling." I laughed. "I'd love to match you with her. It would be a kind of sweet revenge, and keep you in your place. But my professional ethics won't allow it. You two would be completely incompatible. So, to answer your question, no. She's not for you. Though feel free to take her out if you like. As long as you keep in mind and remember that I advised against it."

  I had tried to keep my tone light and teasing. But
gauging from his expression, at least some of the bitterness had seeped in.

  I pressed my lips together and tried to soften the tone. "Seriously, Danika could be useful to us. She came to me wanting to write a story on us. She wanted to be our embedded reporter. I figured by bringing her in as one of our women and giving her real hope and a chance of finding happiness with a match, we could win her over.

  "She's the one reporter around who had an incentive to dig around into what we're doing. She's incensed the masses against me in New York. But if properly channeled, she can use the power of her pen for good. I'm convinced of it. And now we have her signature on a nondisclosure, so she can't spill our secrets even if she somehow managed to find them out.

  "I didn't see any reason to chance having our proprietary software and company information getting around. If we're successful, there will be enough competitors springing up overnight and copying us.

  "Danika has a type A personality, which drives her success. I made her promise she'd give this venture her all. With her ambition and desire to find a husband, she could be one of our early success stories.

  "And then, maybe, we'll let her tell our story. She'd like permission to write a book when all of this is over."

  Lazer listened to me without interrupting. "Which of the guys do you have in mind for her?"

  I smiled sweetly. "What would be the fun of me telling you, Mr. Dating Expert? Why don't you get to know her and make your own guess?" I paused. "Speaking of our men, they've been secretive about how their makeovers are going. Has Stryker gotten them into dating shape?"

  "You'll see them tomorrow and can judge for yourself. I think you'll be happy with their progress."

  We arrived at the apartment complex quickly. Lazer left Lottie and me to get everyone settled in. The women were delighted and impressed with their living arrangements. The talk of the day was gushing about Lazer's generosity, his looks, his charm.

  Their reaction to him confirmed the growing fear I'd had this past month. I'd made a mistake. I never should have roped him into being a client. He was going to overshadow all the rest of the men. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea at the time. Before I'd had a chance to think through the details and ramifications. Before I'd met the men.