Читать книгу Matched to a Billionaire - Kat Cantrell - Страница 9

One

Leo Reynolds wished he could marry his admin. It would make life so much simpler.

Unfortunately, she was already married and nearly twice his age. Plus, women didn’t stick around once they figured out he worked a hundred hours a week on a consistent basis. Loneliness was the price of catapulting Reynolds Capital Management into the big leagues of the venture capital game.

“You’re a life saver, Mrs. Gordon.” Leo shot her a grateful smile and leaned back in his chair.

His laptop was refusing to speak to the printer and a critical document had gotten caught in the middle of the dispute. The signed hard copy now in his hand was due to Garrett Engineering on the other side of Dallas in less than an hour.

“I’d hardly call printing a proposal saving your life.” Mrs. Gordon glanced at her watch in a deliberate gesture designed to point out the time. “It’s late and it’s Friday. Take Jenna to that new restaurant in Victory Park and let me handle the proposal. Relax for once. It’ll be good for you.”

Leo grimaced as a ping of remorse bloomed and faded. “Jenna and I split up. She’s already seeing someone else.”

Hopefully, the new relationship would make her happy. She deserved a man who could shower her with attention and affection. He regretted not being able to give her what she wanted, but it would be patently unfair to let Jenna keep hoping he’d ever become a man capable of focusing on a relationship. As a result, he’d lost a comfortable companion.

“Of course she is. It’s not like she ever saw you.” Mrs. Gordon crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Leo with a tsk. “Now who are you going to take to the museum dedication?”

Leo groaned. He’d conveniently forgotten about that, but it wasn’t as if he could skip the dedication. The new children’s museum in the Dallas Arts District bore his name, after all, since he’d donated the money to build it. “You’re free next Saturday, aren’t you?”

Mrs. Gordon cackled as though Leo had been joking. “One of these days, I’m going to say yes when you ask me out and really mess with you. If Jenna’s not in the picture, find another woman. They seem to be pretty thick on the ground.”

Yeah, he tripped over women on a regular basis who would like to go out with him. Or at least they thought they did, right up until they realized they wouldn’t be satisfied with what little time and attention he could give. It never took very long to reach that point.

A vague hollow feeling invaded his gut, one he’d experienced more and more lately. He’d written it off as an increased urgency to hit that elusive, unachieved mark of success. But now that it had happened during a discussion about his personal life, he wasn’t so convinced.

“I hate dating.” And small talk. That getting-to-know-you period took time and energy he didn’t care to expend. Reynolds Capital Management came first. Always.

“That’s because you don’t do it often enough.”

Here they went, off on her favorite subject. She never got tired of scolding him about the lack of a permanent female in his life.

“Have you been talking to my mother again?”

“We went to lunch Tuesday, as a matter of fact. She says hi.” Mrs. Gordon raised her eyebrows and planted guilt simultaneously, as Leo was sure she intended. He got it. He should call his mother. And date eligible women.

Problem was, he not only hated dating, he also hated constantly standing up dates and disappointing women who deserved better. But he liked companionship and, well, he was a guy—sex was nice, too. Why couldn’t the perfect woman fall in his lap so he could focus on work?

“It is late,” Leo said in what was no doubt a transparent attempt to change the subject. “Why don’t you go home and I’ll take the proposal to Garrett?”

He had until five o’clock to get it to Garrett Engineering, formally expressing his interest in doing business with them.

What Steve Jobs was to cell phones, Tommy Garrett was to internal combustion engines. Or would be, as soon as funding was in place. Garrett had invented a revolutionary modification to increase the gas mileage of a standard car engine and Leo intended to be Garrett’s venture capital firm of choice. The partnership would net a sizable, long-term profit for both men, and Leo could do what he did best—pull strings behind the scenes.

If Leo won the deal.

No, not if. When.

Leo would never rest until his company hit that sweet spot of security, where longevity was a given, not a question mark. His first million hadn’t done it. Neither had the first eight figures, because his profits went straight back into leveraged investments that wouldn’t pay off until some point in the future. So he didn’t rest.

“Since you’ve scared off yet another female with your dogged determination to work yourself into an early grave, be my guest.” Mrs. Gordon waved her approval for Leo to deliver the proposal. “I filled up your car with gas this morning. It wouldn’t kill you to glance at the gauge once in a while.”

“Thanks. You’re too good to me. By the way,” Leo threw in as Mrs. Gordon pulled her handbag from a desk drawer, “I was thinking of having a gathering at my house to wine and dine Tommy Garrett. If I ask very nicely, would you plan it?”

“It’s not my job to be your stand-in wife.” Mrs. Gordon firmed her mouth, which meant she had a lot more to say but didn’t know how to do so tactfully. In the eight years she’d been keeping him sane, he’d seen that look a lot.

With a half laugh, Leo said, “Of course not. That’s not part of your job description.”

Except it had the ring of uncomfortable truth. When his hair grew too long, Mrs. Gordon scheduled a haircut. His mother’s birthday—Mrs. Gordon picked out the gift. The wine-and-dine request had been a bit of a blurred line, but based on the set of Mrs. Gordon’s mouth, he’d pretty well turned the line into a trapezoid.

Mrs. Gordon shut down her computer for the night. “Well, it should be part of someone’s job description.”

“What, like a party planner?” Maybe he should hire a professional in some capacity, which wouldn’t cover all his social obligations. But it was better than nothing.

“Like a girlfriend. Or someone who might actually still be around in six weeks. Hire a wife,” she said with a nod. “You need a good woman to take care of you outside of the office. Ask her to glance at your gas gauge. She can schmooze Garrett and make sure your life is running smoothly. Keep you warm at night.”

Her eyebrows waggled but Leo barely noticed.

Hire a wife.

Could you even do such a thing? It seemed too perfect a solution.

He had no time—or the desire—to sift through women until he found one he liked but who also wouldn’t expect him to be available. Reynolds Capital Management did not manage itself. His employees and partners depended on him.

A wife couldn’t leave him with no notice. It was the ultimate security.

Leo would have a permanent companion to help fill that occasional hollow feeling, one with no hidden agenda involving his assets and connections. They’d both know from the get-go what to expect—stability. There’d be no hard feelings when she realized he hadn’t been kidding about giving 100 percent to his company, leaving nothing left over for her.

All or nothing. Commitment was Leo’s kryptonite. Once he latched on to something, he gave it everything and then some. Early on, he’d realized that trait was inherited and tried not to make the same mistakes as his father.

Then he’d met Carmen, who taught him the true depths of his weaknesses, and how easily one obsession could become the center of his existence. He practiced putting everything but the goal aside until it was second nature.

Love or success. His personality didn’t allow for both and after clawing his way out of the ghetto, he refused to gamble his future.

If he had an understanding wife, work and his personal life would remain completely separate. And best of all, Leo would never have to engage in small talk with a new woman or experience that sharp pang of guilt over canceling on one ever again.

Leo tugged on his suit jacket and hand delivered the proposal to Garrett’s people in their tiny downtown office. It wouldn’t be tiny for long. Investors far and wide were clamoring to get in on the ground floor with Garrett’s technology. Once the company went public, its worth would shoot to legendary status.

Leo had to land the deal with Tommy Garrett, and the wine-and-dine thing would be a fantastic opportunity to solidify his chances. A wife could handle the logistics, leaving Leo to engage in uninterrupted dialogue with Garrett about what Reynolds Capital could do for him that no one else could. His offer to Garrett didn’t expire for several weeks. He had plenty of time to get a wife in place.

When Leo returned to his darkened office, he sat at his laptop. Within fifteen minutes, Google provided a potential answer to the question of how to hire a wife. He’d had to wade through all the cleaning services and concierge services, then a few distasteful escort services, to find the definitive solution.

A matchmaking service.

Yes. Of course. It was not what he’d had in mind when he started the quest. Actually, he hadn’t been sure what he’d intended to find. But this was an intriguing answer. Leo had always thought he’d get married one day, when he could afford to transfer his energy to a relationship. Yet here he was on the downside of thirty-five and Reynolds Capital Management still took all of his focus. All of his time.

He stared at the logo for EA International. The website was professional and tasteful, with earth tones and a classic font. Most importantly, this particular matchmaker catered to exclusive clients, promising discretion and a money-back guarantee. Guarantees warmed Leo’s heart.

The tagline said it all—Let us help you find “the one.”

Presumably, “the one” for Leo would fit all his qualifications. EA International would do the screening, the interviewing, the background checks, and ultimately filter out candidates who were looking for some mystical connection. Love didn’t pay the bills, and Leo would never allow the power to be turned off on his family, the way his own father had.

It was brilliant. The matchmaker would do everything required to find Leo a wife. One he could never disappoint. All he had to do was make a phone call.

Then, with that settled, he could get back to work.

* * *

Daniella White had dreamed of her wedding since the first time she’d created crayon invitations to a ceremony starring Mr. Fourpaws as the tattered velveteen groom and herself as the fairy-tale bride wrapped in dingy sheets. Someday she’d wear a beautiful dress of delicate lace and silver heels. The guests would receive heavy card-stock invitations with a vellum overlay and eat a three-tiered French vanilla cake with fondant flowers.

Best of all, a handsome husband-to-be would wait for her at the end of a church aisle, wearing a tender smile. Later that night, the love of her life would sweep her away to a romantic honeymoon somewhere exotic and breathtaking. Theirs would be a marriage of grand passion and enduring love.

When her real wedding day finally arrived, Dannie could never have envisioned it would involve a groom she’d never met in person. Or that in a few minutes, she’d be marrying Leo Reynolds in the living room of a matchmaker’s house in North Dallas, with only a handful of guests in attendance.

“What do you think, Mom?” Dannie beamed at her mother in the cheval mirror and straightened a three-quarter-length sleeve. A dress of any sort usually appealed to Dannie, but this unadorned ecru one would be her wedding dress and she wanted to love it. She didn’t. But she’d make the best of it, like always.

EA International’s sophisticated computer program had matched her with businessman Leo Reynolds and he expected a wife with a certain refinement—one who dressed the part, acted the part, lived the part. Dannie had spent the past month under the matchmaker’s intensive tutelage to become exactly right for that part.

Dannie’s mother coughed profusely, hand to her chest as if she’d clear the scar tissue from her lungs through sheer will alone. “You’re beautiful, baby,” she said when she’d recovered. “Every bit a proper wife. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Yeah, it was really hard to put my name in a database. Dannie bit back the comment. She wasn’t a smart aleck anymore. No one ever got her jokes anyway.

Two sharp raps at the door shoved Dannie’s heart into her throat. Elise Arundel, Dannie’s fairy godmother–slash–matchmaker, popped into the room, her sleek, dark pageboy swinging. “Oh, Dannie. You look lovely.”

Dannie smiled demurely. She needed a lot of practice at being demure.

“Thanks to you.”

“I didn’t pick out that dress.” Elise nodded once. “You did. It’s perfect for your willowy frame. I’ve never had anyone who glommed on to cut and style with such natural talent.”

“I made up for it by being hopeless with cosmetics.” Dannie frowned. Did that seem too outspoken? Ungrateful? That was the problem with changing your personality to become a society wife—nothing came naturally.

Elise’s critical eye swept over Dannie’s face and she dismissed the comment with a flick of her manicured hand. “You’re flawless. Leo’s socks will be knocked off.”

And there went her pulse again.

The figure in the mirror stared back at her, almost a stranger, but with her dark brown hair and almond-colored eyes. Would Leo be happy with her sophisticated chignon? The erect posture? The scared-to-death woman in the ecru dress? What if he didn’t like brunettes?

She was being silly. He’d seen her picture, of course, as she’d seen his. They’d spoken on the phone twice. Their conversations had been pleasant and they’d worked through several important marital issues: they’d allow the intimate side of their relationship to evolve over time, a clarification that had clinched it since he didn’t believe he was buying an “exchange of services,” and he was open to eventually having children.

Neither of them had any illusions about the purpose of this marriage—a permanent means to an end.

Why was she so nervous about what was essentially an arranged marriage?

Her mother smoothed a hand over Dannie’s hair. “Soon you’ll be Mrs. Leo Reynolds and all your dreams will come true. For the rest of your life, you’ll have the security and companionship I never had.” Racking coughs punctuated the sentiment and the ticking clock in Dannie’s mind sped up. Pulmonary fibrosis was killing her mother.

Dannie was marrying Leo to save her.

And she’d never forget what she owed him. What she owed Elise.

Her mom was right. Dannie had always dreamed of being a wife and mother and now she was getting that chance. Marriage based on compatibility would provide security for her and her mom. She had no business being sad that security couldn’t be based on love.

Maybe love could grow over time, along with intimacy. She’d hang on to that hope.

With a misty smile, Elise opened the door wider. “Leo’s waiting for you in front of the fireplace. Here’s your bouquet. Simple and tasteful, with orchids and roses, like you requested.”

The clutch of flowers nearly wrenched the tears loose from Dannie’s eyes. “It’s beautiful. Everything is beautiful. I can’t thank you enough.”

She still couldn’t believe Elise had selected her for the EA International matchmaking program. When she’d applied, it had all seemed like such a long shot, but what choice did she have? Her mother needed expensive long-term care, which neither of them could afford, so Dannie gladly did whatever her mother needed—doctor’s appointments, cooking, cleaning. Her father had left before she’d been born, so it had been the two of them against the world since the beginning.

Unfortunately, employers rarely forgave the amount of time off Dannie required. After being fired from the third job in a row, her situation felt pretty dire. She’d searched in vain for a work-from-home job or one with a flexible schedule. After hours at the library’s computer, she’d been about to give up when the ad for EA International caught her eye.

Have you ever dreamed of a different sort of career? Coupled with a picture of a bride, how could she not click on it?

EA International invited women with superior administrative skills, a desire to better themselves and the drive to become “the woman behind the man” to apply for a bold, innovative training program.

Who had better admin skills than someone managing the care of a perpetually ill mother? Without much to lose, Dannie sent her information into the ether and shock of all shocks, got the call.

It was fate that EA International was based in Dallas, where Dannie lived.

Elise polished Dannie until she shone and then matched her with a man who needed an elegant society wife. In exchange for organizing Leo’s household and hosting parties, Dannie could take care of her mother without any more financial worries.

A marriage that was little more than a contract seemed a small price to pay.

“You’re one of my most successful graduates.” Elise handed Dannie the bouquet and shifted a couple of flowers to face the outside. “I predict you’ll be one of my most successful matches, as well. You and Leo couldn’t be better suited.”

Dannie’s stomach lurched. She wanted to like him. To enjoy being married. Would she be attracted to him? What if she wasn’t? Would the intimate side of their marriage never happen? Maybe she should have insisted they meet first in spite of their mutual agreement not to.

It hardly mattered. Attraction wasn’t a factor here, but surely they’d eventually hold a great deal of affection for each other, regardless of what he looked like.

Nose to the bouquet, Dannie inhaled the sweet scent of her wedding flowers. “We have similar goals and both recognize the practicality of this union. I expect we’ll be very happy together.”

Leo had gobs of money. She’d have been happy with half a gob. That level of wealth intimidated her, but Elise insisted she could handle it. After all, Dannie would have a valued place in his life and she might eventually be the mother of his children. Her training had made it very clear the woman behind the man worked as hard as women in other careers.

“Happy is exactly what you’ll be.” Elise pinched the clasp of Dannie’s necklace, dragging it to the nape of her neck. The open-heart lavaliere hanging from the chain had been a gift from the matchmaker when Dannie agreed to marry Leo. “My computer program is never wrong.”

Dannie’s mother chimed in. “This is the best kind of match, one that will last forever, because it’s based on compatibility, not feelings. It’s everything Dannie wants in a marriage.”

Dannie forced a nod, though she wished she could disagree, and spared only a passing thought to Rob. She’d been so gaga over him.

Look where that had gotten her—brokenhearted and determined to make over her temperament so no man could call her opinionated and blunt again. She’d screwed up that relationship but good.

She wasn’t going to screw up this one. Her mother couldn’t afford it.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Security and companionship. What else could I possibly ask for?”

Fairy tales were stories about magical solutions to problems and full of people who fell in love, but whose relationships couldn’t possibly stand the test of time. In real life, women had to make sacrifices and Dannie was making hers.

Without any further melancholy and ridiculousness, she marched out the door of the room she’d stayed in during her transformation and went to meet her fate on a prayer that she and Leo would at least grow to care for each other. If there was more, great. She’d consider it a bonus.

Her mother and Elise followed. Dannie paused at the top of the sweeping staircase and took in the scene below.

With cheerful optimism, Elise had placed flower arrangements on the mantel and on each side of the fireplace. Dannie’s heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness of the woman who had become her friend. A photographer stood at the back of the room, poised to snap memories at a moment’s notice, and the gray-haired minister Elise had recommended waited in front of the fireplace.

To his right was Leo Reynolds. Her husband-to-be.

He looked up and met her gaze.

A shock of...something zapped across her shoulders. He looked exactly like his picture, but in person—hello. Dark, straight hair brushed his collar and an expensive, well-designed suit encased a masculine body Leo clearly kept in great shape. Classic, smooth features formed a face handsome enough to sell out an entire print run of GQ magazine. More Ashley than Rhett, which was appropriate since she’d banished her inner Scarlett O’Hara to a place where the sun didn’t shine.

Leo also looked kind, as though he wouldn’t hesitate to carry an elderly lady’s groceries to the car. Dannie almost snorted. If Leo Reynolds had ever seen the inside of a grocery store, she’d eat her bouquet. He was a busy man and it was a good thing for her that he was, or he wouldn’t need a wife.

Not for the first time, she wondered why he’d resorted to a matchmaker. He was good-looking, rich and well-spoken. By all rights, the eligible-woman line should be wrapped around the block.

Eyes on Leo, she descended the stairs with practiced ease—she’d done it in four-inch heels dozens of times and didn’t falter today despite the severity of the occasion. In far too few steps, she reached Leo. In her bone-colored pumps, she and Leo were nearly the same height.

She searched his expression as he did the same to her. What did you say to a man you were about to marry but whom you were seeing for the first time in the flesh? Hey, fancy meeting you here.

A hysterical giggle nearly slipped out. Not an auspicious start.

“Hello.” Well, that should be reasonably safe.

“Hello,” Leo returned and smiled, setting off a nice, warm flutter in her chest.

Up close, he was solid and powerful, capable of carrying a baby in one arm and taking out a carjacker with the other. The flutter that thought set off was a little warmer and little more south than the first one. In theory, she’d known Leo equated to safety. But reality was far more...real. And affecting.

They faced front. Nerves locked Dannie’s knees and she tried to loosen them without drawing attention. If she pitched over in the middle of her wedding ceremony, Elise would never forgive her.

“Let’s begin.” The minister raised a Bible in his wrinkled hands and began reciting the vows Leo had insisted Dannie select.

The words flowed from the minister’s mouth, sounding completely different aloud than she would have imagined. For better or worse, richer or poorer. None of that really applied, not in the way it did for most couples. Those vows were a call to remember the reasons you fell in love in the first place when marriage got tough.

From her peripheral vision, she tried to catch a glimpse of Leo to see how all this was registering. Suddenly she wished they’d had a few more conversations so she’d know better what he might be thinking.

It had just seemed so unnecessary. Elise wouldn’t have allowed her to marry someone awful. Her screening process was diligent and faultless, matching her with Leo on all forty-seven points of the personality profile. So long as he wasn’t a criminal or a wife beater, what did it matter if he had a good sense of humor or liked sweeping historical dramas?

“Do you take Leo as your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister intoned.

Dannie cleared her throat. “I do.”

With a trembling hand, she slipped a plain platinum band on Leo’s finger. Or tried to. She couldn’t get it over the knuckle and when he covered her hand with his to assist, she glanced up to meet his blue eyes.

That same odd shock she’d experienced on the stairs rocked her shoulders. It wasn’t awareness, but deeper, as if she’d just seen someone she knew but couldn’t place.

She shook it off. Nerves. That’s all.

Leo repeated, “I do,” his voice even and strong. Because he wasn’t nervous. Why would he be, with all that masculine confidence?

The platinum band he slid on her finger matched his and winked in the living room’s overhead lighting. She stared at it, transfixed by the sheer weight such a simple band added to her hand.

Divorce wasn’t an option.

Both she and Leo had indicated a strong belief in honoring commitments in their profiles and it had been the first thing addressed in their phone conversation. Leo had been far too generous in the original prenuptial agreement and she’d refused to marry him without serious alterations, namely that any future children would be provided for but she’d get nothing. In her mind, that was the best way to demonstrate the seriousness of her word.

Leo represented security, not free money. And in exchange for that security, she’d be the wife he needed.

This marriage was a permanent solution to their problems, not a love match. Which was fine by her. Leo would never leave her the way her father had and she’d never have to worry about whether he’d stop loving her if she screwed up.

The minister signaled the end of the short ceremony with the traditional, “You may kiss the bride.”

Oh, why had she asked for that part? It was going to be so weird. But it was her wedding. Shouldn’t she get a kiss from her husband? A kiss to seal their bargain.

Leo turned to her, his expression unreadable. As his lips descended, she closed her eyes. Their mouths touched.

And held for a shimmering moment, launching a typhoon of flutters in her abdomen. Maybe the possibility of having a whole lot more than just affection between them wasn’t as remote as she’d thought.

Then he recoiled as if he’d licked a lemon wedge and stepped away.

Their first kiss. How...disappointingly brief, with a hint of possible sparks she’d had no time to enjoy. Hadn’t he felt it? Obviously not.

Her mother and Elise clapped, gathering around her and Leo to gush with congratulations.

Dannie swallowed. What had she expected—Leo would magically transform from a venture capitalist into Prince Charming? Elise’s computer program had matched her with the perfect husband, one who would take care of her and her mother and treat Dannie well. She should be happy they’d have a fulfilling partnership.

She should not be thinking about how Leo might kiss her if they’d met under different circumstances. If they were getting married because they’d fallen in love, and during the ceremony he’d slid her a sizzling glance that said he couldn’t wait for the honeymoon.

She shouldn’t be dwelling on it, but the thought wouldn’t fade—what would his calm blue eyes look like when they were hot with passion?