“Nor would I. Now.” He poured a glass of orange juice and offered it to me. “But, you see, I lost my virginity to her. For a geek like me, that was something. Any girl who’d let me…”
He passed me a plate of breakfast sandwiches and helped himself to one. “Well. It was a big deal. I thought it meant she loved me.
“I was so damn head over heels. And burning with lust. I’d never felt anything like sex with a woman. Hand jobs weren’t the same after that. I was addicted. I became insanely possessive. And despondent. She was a Dutch foreign student. The end of the semester was approaching. Sanne was heading back to the Netherlands. Forever. Unless I stopped her.
“I didn’t want to lose her. Marrying her so she could stay, so she would stay, seemed like the only sane solution.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the humorous tone in his voice. He was clearly poking fun at himself.
“Oh, no,” I said. “You wanted to give her your name and a green card?”
He laughed. “That’s about all I had to offer. I was a broke college kid.”
He smiled as if remembering something pleasant. “It’s not as bad as it seems. We had a lot in common. We were both gaming geeks. We both loved a good screw. She spoke her adorable Dutch, which sounded like slaughtered English. I was teaching her real English.”
“There’s a sound foundation.” It wasn’t lost on me that the main things Lazer and I currently had in common were the great sex between us and a command of the English language. We didn’t even have gaming in common. I’d never been into it. “I assume you were always a romantic. How did you propose?”
“In great romantic style.” He took a bite of sandwich. “And with great care and planning. There was a fraternity on campus where the guys would dress up in war paint and grass skirts. They’d go as a group, carrying tiki torches, to ask girls out to their big dance. Then they’d congregate in front of the girl’s residence and serenade her. The guy who was doing the asking would come forth, plant his torch, and yell his invitation to her.”
This was going downhill quickly. “Oh no.”
“Oh, yes. But it gets better. I wasn’t in a frat. But Sanne and I had a favorite video game we played. Even back then Austin was into cosplay. We all were, but he was the costume master. I convinced all four of the guys to dress up in costume from that game. Austin helped us make them. He was a genius. They were very good re-creations, the best part of the whole proposal. Short Roman tunics, a balteus, and mock armor. I, of course, was Sanne’s favorite warrior.”
“Just so you know, I’m resisting the urge to put my hands over my eyes.”
“That terrible?”
“No, the thought of you in a Roman tunic skirt is enticing. And a little odd,” I said. “Go on.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “We had flaming tiki torches, because those were wicked—”
“Did Romans have tiki torches?” I asked. “I assume that is more of a Hawaiian thing and went better with the grass skirts the frat guys wore.”
Lazer gave me mock-stern look. “They were awesome.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I even had a ring for her. A cheap little thing made of ten-karat gold with a stone resembling diamond dust in the center that cost me every penny I had. Two months’ full salary. Just like the jewelers suggest. Unfortunately, working as a lab assistant didn’t pay much.”
I was still trying not to laugh. It was so tragically funny. “Did it have a reflective shield around the diamond to make it look bigger?”
“Absolutely.” He had such a winning grin.
And who didn’t love a man who could poke fun at himself? “You did your best.”
He nodded. “I did. In an odd way, that ring was worth more than all the expensive jewels I shower women with now. That one cost me everything I had. The jewelry I buy now is a drop in the bucket. I don’t even notice it.” He laughed suddenly. “Two months’ salary! On what I bring in now? Jeez. That rock would kill some poor girl hauling it around on her finger.”
“She’d certainly be the target of jewel thieves.”
“I still have the ring. To remind me. And because the pawn shop refused to pay more than a few dollars for it.”
“Where did this girl live, dare I ask?” Did I really want to know? How humiliating did this story get?
“You can uncover your eyes. Fortunately, she lived in a rented house just off campus. Also, fortuitously, I chose a time to propose when her roommates were out. We showed up in costume the Friday evening just before dead week. I had a bunch of roses I’d bought at the grocery store.”
“Red, I hope,” I said.
“Naturally. The best bunch they had.” He smiled. “Sanne came to the window. We sang to her. And, may I say, did a decent job of it.”
“What song did you sing?”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“That embarrassing?”
He ignored me. “I got down on one knee and yelled out a marriage proposal.”
I was actually on the edge of my seat. This was a complete train wreck. A matchmaking horror story. And yet my heart hurt for him.
“And?”
“I think we scared the shit out of her. Crazy American men with torches—what would you think?”
“No,” I said, sympathetically.
“When she finally realized it was me behind the helmet—”
“Helmet? Wait a minute. You didn’t mention a helmet.”
He shook his head at my ignorance. “What kind of video game warrior would I be without a helmet?”
“Did it have a mask that covered your eyes?”
“Naturally.”
“Crap.”
He laughed. “Can I finish my story?”
“Please do.” I pulled out my phone.
“Once she understood what I was asking—”
“Given the language difference, that was something,” I said as I typed, Will you marry me? into Google Translate. “Wil je met me trouwen?”
“What?”
“Dutch for ‘will you marry me.’ That does sound like butchered English. Surely you asked her in her native tongue?”
He rolled his eyes. “And risk saying something rude? I asked her in English.
“I wasn’t going away without an answer. Finally Sanne opened the window. She yelled at me that I was an idioot for embarrassing her. And a stommeling. And a couple of much stronger words in both Dutch and English.
“Then she told me exactly what I could do with my ring and where I could go—hell sounds pretty much the same in both languages—and slammed the window shut. In retrospect, we were lucky she didn’t call the campus police. After that, she refused to see me or answer my calls.”
The story, and the way he told it, were so funny that it was hard to take him seriously. I tried to gauge how he felt about all of it now. “That was horrible of her. It must have hurt.”
He nodded. “It did. For a while. Until I came to my senses.” He took another bite of his sandwich.
“She wasn’t very kind. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she was just immature. Even so, it sounds like you dodged a bullet.” I was having a hard time imagining the confident, charming, successful man next to me as the geeky boy from his story. “Was she beautiful? Intelligent?”
“Beautiful?” He shook his head, scoffing at the suggestion. “No. I’ll show you a picture sometime. But I was a skinny-ass, pimply geek back then. If I was a two, she was a three. I’ve always dated up.” He laughed.
“There must have been something about her that you liked. Besides the sex.” I lifted my sandwich. “Was she smart? Funny?”
“You can’t stop playing matchmaker, can you?” He grabbed another sandwich and some fruit. “You’re trying to find out what kind of women I’m attracted to. What are my must-haves in a woman?”
“Maybe I am.” I paused. “Or maybe I’m just trying to get to know you and understand who you are.” I studied him. “What Sanne did to you was
incredibly cruel. Yes, you were broke, by your own admission. And maybe you were going through a gawky stage. And your proposal was a little…overzealous. But you were still you, with your wit and intelligence. With your sense of romance, however misguided by youth and inexperience…”
“Thanks for that.” He leaned close to me. “Now you know my darkest secret. I was once a marriage enthusiast.”
I laughed. “Right. Why is this never mentioned in any of the profiles about you? You’d think someone would have dug it up.”
“Costumes,” he said, nodding. “Hid my identity.”
I shook my head and laughed. “And loyal friends. But why hasn’t Sanne ever sold the story?”
“Good question. Maybe because she moved back to the Netherlands after the semester. Maybe she hasn’t been paying attention to my meteoric rise in fortune. Maybe she’s still too mortified to admit to it. Or maybe she thinks no one will ever believe her now.”
“All good possibilities,” I said. “Can I at least add that you like Dutch girls to my notes on you?”
He laughed again. “Not so much now.”
It was all good fun, but I became serious. “Don’t let one bad experience scar you, Lazer.”
“Bad experience?” he said. “What bad experience? As it turns out, Sanne was my perfect woman in at least one way—she didn’t want to marry me.” He raised his glass again. “To perfect women.”
“Perfect women don’t exist,” I said, mildly, as I clinked his glass. “But we’ll find you a suitable one when we go through the matchmaking process. One who will love any proposal you give her.”
He studied me seriously for a moment. “I’m still not sure why I have to go through the process. I’m just a shill, not a real client.”
“And we don’t want anyone to find that out, do we?” I smiled sweetly at him. “Will you stop trying to wiggle out of this? How many times have I told you—”
“We have to make it look real.” He set his glass down. “Let’s change the subject.”
“All right,” I said, and tried to tease him. “Naming your lodge after yourself isn’t a touch arrogant?” I’d been curious about that for a while.
He smiled charmingly. “FYI, I named the lodge after myself precisely because a reporter had called me conceited. It was an in-your-face maneuver.”
I studied him as the bubbles of the exquisitely dry champagne slid down my throat. Commitment issues. Hitting on a good friend’s new bride. He was so unsuitable.
“I’m excited for the marketing meeting today,” he said. “The agency has some ideas I think you’re going to love.”
“Have you been cheating?” I asked. “And peeking at what they’ve been doing?”
“Collaborating.”
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“Peter should be at the lodge when we get back. You’re going to like him, too. Peter is to pairing people with jobs as you are to pairing people with soul mates.”
“I hope that’s a compliment?”
“The highest,” he said.
We finished our breakfast while talking business and packed up. Just as we were done, there was a noise in the woods, like an animal crashing through. I jumped.
Lazer got an excited look on his face. “Probably nothing. Stay here. I’m going to go look.”
“Stay here! Are you crazy? That never ends well.” I grabbed his arm. “I’m going with you.”
He nodded and took my hand. “Come on.” He pulled me out of the clearing into the dense forest and underbrush.
My heart raced. Partly from holding his hand. Partly from fear of wild beasts. The crashing continued and grew louder. Whatever it was was coming right toward us.
Lazer looked around excitedly. “There!” He pointed.
I caught a glimpse of a large brown animal and held tight to Lazer’s arm. “I hope you have a gun. Just in case.”
“Why would I need a gun? It isn’t moose season. And I’m not a hunter. As long as we don’t scare him into trampling us, he won’t hurt us.”
Lazer’s eyes had been sharper than mine. As he spoke, a large bull moose stepped into a clear space between the trees. It stopped and stared right at us. It was gigantic. Six feet tall at the shoulder, at least.
I let out a scream that was more of a frightened squeak and took a step back, losing my balance and sliding backward. The moose snorted and took off noisily in the opposite direction, crashing through the underbrush.
Lazer held on to me, arresting my fall as I slid backward into a huge evergreen tree. But not before snagging myself on the underbrush and picking up foliage in my hair. I hit the tree with much less impact, thanks to Lazer.
He swung around to face me. “Are you okay? It was just a moose. That’s a rare, exciting sighting. We don’t get many of them here. Most of them are on the other side of the state.”
I was shaking and trying not to show it. That moose had startled me. I was so not an outdoor girl.
“Hey,” Lazer said tenderly as he picked a piece of brush out of my hair. “It’s okay. Really.” He cupped my cheek and looked deeply into my eyes.
There was that connection again. That damn sexual crackle between us that wouldn’t die. His voice and touch were gentle as his lips angled toward mine. I should have turned my head or made a joke. But I simply wasn’t strong enough. I wanted Lazer with a force beyond myself. A desire so deep, it was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
His lips met mine and all the desire between us erupted. We kissed hungrily. Urgently. Almost bruisingly. As if any minute one of us would come to our senses.
I grabbed his head and ran my fingers through his hair, pressing up against him. He was hard and ready for me. All I had to do was unzip his shorts, pull him out…
So quick. So easy. So tempting.
His kisses slid to my ear, my neck, the hollow of my throat. His hands slid beneath my T-shirt, hot and urgent on my skin.
The air was fresh and warm with the scent of the forest. The thrill of averted danger trilled through me. I slid my hands beneath his shirt and caressed his chest. I played with his nipples. He was mumbling sweet nothings to me, but I wasn’t paying attention to the words, only the desire in his tone.
“Up against the rough bark of a tree has always been a fantasy of mine.” His voice was hoarse with desire as he reached for the button of my shorts.
His words finally broke through to me and brought me to my senses.
I grabbed his hands, stopping him. “Mine too. But we can’t. Rule number 32.” I laughed shakily.
“What the fuck is rule 32?” His hands stilled.
“An inside joke between Lottie and me. It means breaking one of my matchmaking rules.” I covered his hands with mine.
“Damn the rules. We aren’t dating.”
No, but I wanted him. I dreamed of him. I wanted more than casual sex with him. This was my punishment for meting out rules all these years without having to live under them. I was just beginning to experience how excruciating unfulfilled desire could be.
“But we’re business partners.” I held his gaze. “And this could only end badly.”
He dropped his hands and backed away slowly, running his hands through his hair like a man frustrated.
Hey, he couldn’t have been any more unfulfilled and desperate than I was.
“You may be right.” He paused. “Or you may be crazy. This could have been perfect.” He nodded toward the table. “We’d better head back or we’ll be late.”
Chapter 8
Ashley
When I got back to the lodge, Lottie was lying in wait for me, dying to tell me what was on that note card.
“How was your hike with Lazer?” She followed me into my room.
“Exhausting. This high-altitude air is killer.” I gave her a conspiratorial smile. “And don’t worry. He told me what was on that note card. Told me all about it.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you passed out last night before we could d
iscuss that little revelation. What did he say about it?”
Lazer hadn’t exactly sworn me to secrecy, but I couldn’t see myself being any less loyal than his friends. I shrugged. “I promised not to share everything he said. But I can say it was a real proposal. A long time ago when he was too young to get married anyway.
“All of the guys know about it, which was why Lazer thought it was a winning response and was so adamant about going all or nothing. All’s well.”
“Oh.” She sounded and looked disappointed, but was professional enough to quickly put it aside. “While you’ve been out, I’ve been talking with the men and getting to know the staff.”
“Impressions?” I pulled off my hiking boots and socks.
“The men are genuinely nice guys. Real sweeties. Once we fix them up a bit, teach them the dating ropes, they’re going to be heartbreakers. Very smart. All of them. And sincere and motivated about finding wives. Also, so excited about that app they’re developing.
“Geek-boy exuberance, I’d call it. They picked my brain all during breakfast. We have to find them good women. They deserve them.” She lowered her voice. “And Lazer!” She whistled softly. “That man has charisma oozing out of his pores. He could charm the pants off an avowed celibate, don’t you think?”
I did think. Just this morning he almost had!
“His staff absolutely loves him. I couldn’t pry a bad word about him out of them. He’s considerate. He pays well. He’s funny. The compliments go on and on.
“The marketing and naming people arrived while you were out. They adore him, too. All they can do is gush.” She leaned toward me. “If it makes any difference, every woman in this building has a crush on him. And some of the men from the agency, too. I think they’re gay. Which explains it.”
“Lazer has that effect on people,” I said, casually, as if it was an everyday thing.
“Whoever lands him for a husband is going to have to be the ultra-secure type that doesn’t mind being the plain Jane in the relationship, even if she’s a supermodel. And won’t get upset about women, and men, hitting on him all the time.”
Harte Strings: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Two Page 9
