Billionaire's Matchmaker (Titans)

by Sierra Cartwright

  “I’m persistent when I decide what I want.” A determined glint made his eyes glacial, and an answering shiver raced down her spine. “I want you, and your refusal is the starting point for our negotiation.”

  “Chemistry is only one of the C’s.” She was learning how potent it could be. If chemistry guaranteed a successful relationship, she’d have said yes. “There’s also commitment. You’ve been clear that you don’t want to get married.”

  “Didn’t,” he corrected. “I’ve come to accept, perhaps welcome, the inevitability.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Since Monday?”

  “Since my trip to see my father this morning.” A few moments ago, there’d been a gentleness in his tone, along with persistence and a slight cajoling tease. Now there was a chill. “He’s not returning to the business. I’ll be damned if I’ll allow Noah to break apart what we’ve spent two hundred years building.”

  “You need to find someone else,” she protested.

  “You’d be a very wealthy woman.”

  At what cost? She understood the allure of financial stability, but for her, the devastation of falling for a man who didn’t love her wasn’t worth the risk. “I’m happy with my own results. I have no interest in a marriage for your convenience.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to give up your career. You’ve built a well-respected business, and I understand that you enjoy it. There would be a stipulation that you already know about. We would need to have children. I’d promise to be involved, and we could have a nanny. Adoption is a possibility, if that was a decision we made together. But if we want to have our own, we could stop after one if you find pregnancy doesn’t agree with you.”

  A baby? She’d never allowed herself to dream of that possibility. It would mean taking a chance on a relationship. But the idea of having a child with Rafe… Her heart clutched, as if she’d just gone over the first exhilarating downhill on a roller coaster.

  “I will be talking to my attorneys about changing the archaic terms of the trust so that females can inherit. If England can change rules for the monarchy, there has to be a way.” Though she wasn’t giving him her full attention, she realized Rafe was still talking. “I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind trying to get you pregnant.” The earlier coldness had receded from his voice, leaving behind an inviting warmth that she yearned to surrender to.

  In order to remain strong, she forced herself to banish the sudden image of a child with eyes as startling as Rafe’s.

  “Under what terms will you walk down the aisle toward me?”

  “None. Rafe… No. I can’t.”

  “Won’t,” he challenged.

  “I agree we have chemistry.” Like spark and kindling.

  “And I will be devoted to you. So we’ve sorted out the first two C’s.”

  “We don’t know if we’re compatible.”

  He traced the shell of her ear, igniting something deep inside her. “No?”

  “This is chemistry,” she protested.

  “You enjoyed being with me last night, and not just the sex. The conversation at dinner, then breakfast. You’re intrigued by the Titans. I’ve told you my family’s history and the dramas, and you’ve already invested part of yourself in it. If you walk away this moment, which you are free to do, you would miss being part of my life.”

  “Arrogant, much?” His statement was true, though. Even though she didn’t want it to be.

  “Go with me to Louisiana. We can leave Friday at lunchtime.”

  She grabbed his wrist. “I’ve told you that I can’t just walk away from Prestige on a whim.”

  “Do you have anything on your schedule, workwise, that Skyler and Tony can’t handle?”

  She scowled. “That’s not the point.”

  “Do you?”

  Their next mixer wasn’t until Tuesday. Hope had a breakfast meeting on Friday morning, and she could attend it before leaving. She and Tony were scheduled to attend a charity auction Saturday night. If Skyler were available, it would be a good opportunity to try her as a recruiter. Then she seized her last possible excuse. “The Colonel. I need to take care of the Colonel.”

  “What about your neighbor? Caroline, was it?”

  Does he remember everything?

  “We can get her a nice gift card as a thank-you, for a spa day or something to recover from the trauma. Or a bottle of champagne, perhaps?”

  Caroline was easily bribed. And a spa visit would do it.

  “It’s two nights, not forever. I want to prove to you that we are compatible.” He lowered his hand, and she missed his touch. “Aren’t you in the least bit interested in seeing the Parthenon? I can get us a cottage on the property.”

  “Not at one of your hotels?”

  “We can stay at the Maison Sterling if you wish. I just thought you’d prefer to catch your own glimpse inside the wrought-iron gates.”

  Excitement threatened to sweep her away. Of course she wanted to see the internal workings of his secret society. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Do you expect me to?” Without waiting for a response, he went on, “How many other people do you know who have been invited? And I’d like to take you to dinner someplace special.”

  Her mind raced through the names of famous high-end restaurants in the French Quarter.

  “Outside of New Orleans,” he clarified. “This one is private, someplace I can show off my beautiful submissive.”

  Wide-eyed, she forgot to breathe. “I don’t even know if I want to be your submissive.”

  “Even better. A weekend away will give you the chance to find out if we are compatible in all ways. You will have your safe word, and if you hate being my sub, you can discontinue the role. Then we can continue to have a nice time as associates.”

  He was asking a lot. Maybe too much. Hope wasn’t sure whether she wanted that, whether she was strong enough to meet his desires and constant demands, but she was tempted.

  Heat flared in his eyes. “Say yes, sweet Hope. What’s the worst that can happen? You’ll have a weekend away, get treated like a princess, explore your most sinful desires, learn about yourself, eat some wonderful food, visit the Zeta Society’s plantation. Champagne. A massage, perhaps?”

  None of those things were the worst that that could happen, by any means. There was much more at stake, the possibility she would become attached to Rafe, the way her mother had been to Hope’s father. Then if things didn’t work out, she’d be devastated. It was far safer for her not to take the risk.

  “Perhaps you might even be able to convince yourself that we are not compatible, that you wouldn’t fit into my lifestyle or that I would fit into yours. But you’d know for sure. Come with me, Hope. Find out for yourself.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Damn Rafe and his tempting suggestions.

  Hope’s alarm blared, and she dragged herself awake to turn it off. When blessed silence hung over the room, she flipped onto her back. She’d dreamed of walking down the aisle toward him. He wore a black tailored tuxedo. Naked or in a suit, he was delicious. But in her fantasies, in a tux? He’d swept his gaze over her, a slow, soft smile of appreciation curving his lips. How could she have doubted that marrying him was a good idea?

  Exhausted from the restless night, she plumped her pillow and closed her eyes again. A nightmare pulled her under, and she was trapped in a place she didn’t understand. Rafe was her whole world. Bright strobe lights flashed through her, wild and unbalancing. Then she was in a house of mirrors, her image squat in one, elongated in another. She was businesswoman in a suit, a sub on her knees, a seductress at a restaurant. The glass shattered, and she was in a room that spun with color and screams, infatuated with a man who didn’t return the feeling.

  She woke screaming, clenching the sheets.

  The Colonel leaped onto the bed, eyes filled with condemnation.

  “Sorry.” Hope released her death grip. “Did I disturb you?”

  The cat licked her paw, then burrowed be
neath the blankets, ignoring Hope.

  With a sigh, Hope pushed herself up onto her elbows and grabbed her phone. Her heart stumbled at the sight of a text from Rafe. Why, oh why, did she have to have such a powerful reaction every time he contacted her?

  Have dinner with me tonight? My place. We can talk privately. Try to cover the third C.

  She was pretty sure they had that covered too. Last night she hadn’t wanted to admit the truth to either of them.

  Phone still in hand, she dropped back against her pillow and blew out a breath as she considered his invitation. The last time she’d had a night that restless was almost two years ago, when her mother had died. Nightmares had lasted for weeks before exhaustion had cured her insomnia. Yet if she said no to Rafe, her brain would continue to feed her this horrible mix of possibility and fear. The question was, would she be as disturbed if she said yes?

  It wasn’t just Rafe who’d caused the difficult night. Her subconscious had needed time to process everything that had happened. Maybe if it had evolved over a week or month, it would be easier to sort through.

  Since caffeine was an essential food group this morning, she grabbed her phone, then headed for the kitchen. While the coffeemaker hissed and sputtered, she texted Skyler.

  I overslept. Sorry. I’ll bring lattes as my penalty.

  The reply she should have expected came less than thirty seconds later.

  And doughnuts.

  Before she could type her own answer, Skyler sent a second message.

  Make mine chocolate.

  Hope hadn’t even managed “will do” before her phone pinged again.

  With sprinkles.

  Actually, make it two.

  Don’t forget Tony. He says he doesn’t eat doughnuts, but he’s a big, fat liar. He’s always stealing mine. I want my own, Hope.

  Hope grinned, the vestiges of the restless night losing their grip.

  Since Skyler was on top of things, Hope took her time, sipping her first cup and deciding on a bath rather than a shower.

  As steam wafted around her, she sank down and rested her head against the inflatable pillow. She thought about everything she’d experienced since meeting Rafe, the ways he’d challenged her and expanded her world, introducing her to unimagined carnal pleasures. As she remembered the thorn at dinner and her reaction to it, arousal unfurled. Hope shook her head to force away the dangerous, erotic thoughts. She needed to be pragmatic while she had some time to think.

  Memories, desires, fears all bubbled to the surface. The part of herself that she’d always listened to urged caution. But the part that had been awakened was curious about everything he offered. Any normal human being would be interested in learning about the secret society he belonged to, and of course she was intrigued by the idea of seeing the Parthenon.

  She relaxed once again, and she was able to admit the truth to herself. Even as nervous as she was, she wanted to visit the restaurant he had mentioned. Until he’d mentioned taking her there, she hadn’t believed places like that existed.

  In a way, she’d had a somewhat sheltered upbringing. Her mom had rarely taken time off work, and when she had, they’d driven to Galveston to spend a couple of days at the beach. It hadn’t been until after college that Hope had gone on a cruise. Her work in Texas kept her busy, and though it was close, she hadn’t visited New Orleans recently. How could she say no?

  It would be simpler if she wanted to say no.

  Her mind more than half made up, she climbed out of the tub. She had a towel wrapped around herself when the Colonel strolled in and bellowed as if the hounds of hell had been unleashed. “Breakfast. Right. I’m on it.”

  The Colonel sat in the doorway, staring and continuing to meow.

  “I love you too, you dictatorial fur ball.”

  The cat stood, turned around, flicked her tail, then headed for the kitchen. Hope followed. Too bad she hadn’t thought to fill the food dish while she made coffee.

  After taking care of the cat, Hope poured herself another cup of coffee.

  A few minutes later the phone rang. Rafe? In expectation, her pulse slammed. When Celeste’s name appeared on the caller identification screen, a confusing mix of relief and disappointment slowed her heart rate. After a third ring, emotions under control, she answered. “Morning, Celeste.”

  “I’d ask how you are, but I’m too nosy to waste time being polite.”

  Celeste’s disarming honesty made Hope grin.

  “How did Rafe’s mixer go?” Celeste asked.

  “Should I drag this out a bit longer?”

  “Good God, no. Get to the point.”

  “He refused them all and proposed to me.”

  “Ah.” Her mentor sighed, triumphant. “As I suspected.”

  “What?” Hope put her cup down so she didn’t spill. “What are you saying?”

  “I knew you were the one for him. That’s why I recommended you to Rebecca.”

  “You thought…”

  “Rafe needs a woman who’s bright and articulate—well, most of the time, anyway.” Her voice was dry. “Only you can make the decisions that are right for you. But I can vouch for Rafe. If he asked you to marry him, he meant it. He wouldn’t have done so without thinking it through or believing you two could have a successful relationship.”

  “I’m not sure about any of it. Getting married.” She paused. “Or the Zeta Society.”

  “Rafe’s offering you an opportunity to see for yourself.”

  In the corner, the Colonel finished eating and started dipping one paw into her water bowl and licking the drops away. The distraction gave Hope a moment to figure out what was bothering her. “Did he suggest you call me?”

  “Darling, I don’t allow myself to be manipulated.”

  Because she trusted Celeste’s answer, Hope confided her greatest fear. “I’m scared, Celeste.”

  “Because of your father? Your mother’s inability to move on?” As always, her mentor filled in the blanks of what Hope had left out. “You are much stronger than Cynthia. I’m not one to meddle—”

  Much.

  “You’ve closed yourself off. In fact, I’m not sure you’ve ever allowed anyone inside your little clamshell.”

  As they spoke, Hope paced, and the Colonel glared at her, as if her peace were being disturbed. “There’s the whole submission thing too.”

  “Life is filled with risks. Adapt and overcome.”

  Hope sighed at her mentor’s signature phrase.

  “Perhaps I’ll see you this weekend?”

  Hope gave a noncommittal answer before ending the call.

  Rafe’s dinner invitation was still on her phone’s screen, waiting for her answer. Yet she couldn’t give it.

  Her phone chimed again.

  Where’s my latte?

  Realizing she’d taken over an hour when she’d given herself thirty minutes, Hope hurried to dress and head out.

  She arrived at work and jerked to a halt when she walked in the door. The biggest bouquet of flowers that she’d ever seen sat on Skyler’s desk. The arrangement was so tall that Hope couldn’t see her assistant behind it. “Hello?”

  “Coffee!” Skyler popped up with her hand extended. Zombielike, she headed for the tray bearing the lattes.

  “Wait!” Hope cautioned. If Skyler plucked out a cup, the other two might become unbalanced. In silent offering, she placed the gifts on the edge of Skyler’s desk.

  “Did I hear coffee?” Tony shouted.

  “And doughnuts,” Hope responded.

  “I don’t eat doughnuts.” His phone rang, and he lowered his voice as he answered it.

  Hope waited until Skyler had taken a few sips before asking, “Who sent you flowers?”

  “They’re not mine.”

  “Oh?”

  “More for you. I’ll have you know I didn’t read the card. I was dying to, but I didn’t.”

  Hope took in the colors and the size of the bouquet. It was amazing the thing didn’t topple o
ver. Her fingers itched with the need to pluck the small envelope from the plastic stem it was attached to.

  Before she could decide what to do with the flowers, a second delivery arrived. “No. No, no, no.”

  “I need someone to sign for these.”

  Skyler put down her cup to accept the vase.

  Hope frowned at the sight of Skyler’s name on the screen of his electronic device. Perplexed, she glanced up. “Those are for you,” she told her assistant.

  “Me? This is my lucky day!” As if part of a conga line, she chanted out, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah,” as she danced around. Then she gave a small kick before grabbing the envelope. Rather than lift the flap, she tore off the end. “Oh my God. They’re from Rafe!”

  “From…?”

  “It says ‘Thank you for all the hard work to make the mixer successful. Prestige is lucky to have you.’”

  The bastard. When the man played to win, he didn’t play fair.

  The deliveryman cleared his throat. “You need to sign for them.”

  Jolted, she scrawled her name with the stylus. Then she reached into her kitty purse for tip money. “Thank you.”

  With a nod, the man left.

  “They’re beautiful! Aren’t they? I wish all our clients were like him.”

  Wasn’t it just a few days ago that Skyler thought he was a pain in the ass? And just yesterday that she’d confronted him, then hesitated before leaving Hope alone with him?

  Tony emerged from his office. “What’s all the fuss?”

  “Mr. Sterling is the best.”

  Hope shook her head.

  Tony crossed the reception area and reached for the one cup remaining in the tray. Then he sneezed violently.

  “Are you allergic?” Hope asked in what might have been her least intelligent question ever.

  “Must be the romance. He’s allergic to romance,” Skyler replied.

  “I’ve never had a reaction before,” he protested, eyes watering.