The Billionaire and the Matchmaker

Emily found his mother’s closet just next to the bathroom. It was a magnificent thing to behold, even draped in darkness. Shelves upon shelves of every kind of shoe imaginable took up the opposite wall. A drawer system and a vanity had been stationed next to it. Designer clothes hung from wall-to-wall rods in the rest of the room

She couldn’t help running her hand over the delicate fabrics, appreciating all this luxury in one place. The closet was bigger than her bedroom at her mother’s house. Any one of these outfits probably cost more than she spent on rent for the business each month. It was mind-boggling to know that there were people in the world with that much money to spare.

Of course, her mother had always reminded her, beneath the glitz and glamour, wealthy people were just as miserable as the rest of us. It was important never to feel like she was beneath them.

Her curious fingers landed on a plush, white fabric. She pulled it out, revealing the robe that Michael had mentioned. It was softer than her comforter at home and just as warm. Stripping off her wet outer clothes, she wrapped the robe around her body and reveled in its comfort. She wanted to be buried in that robe.

Her candle flickered dangerously, reminding her that she was in a stranger’s home, alone in the dark. She swept up her wet clothes and hurried for the hall, her bare feet padding down the exquisite oak floors. A photo frame caught her eye and she paused, only for a moment.

It was a picture of a young family. A man and woman, each proudly standing behind a boy and girl. The girl had long dark hair and chubby, baby cheeks. The boy definitely looked familiar. Emily could see hints of Michael in his childhood photo — the dark eyes, the angle of his jaw, and the stiff posture.

It was a sweet picture, but it brought a pang of regret to her chest. Emily didn’t have the stereotypical family photos growing up. All she had was her mom. And now, she was gone, too. It hurt too much to think about.

“Emily? Come join me in the parlor when you’re done.”

Michael’s voice drifted down the hallway toward her. She jumped at the sudden noise, her candle sputtering dangerously from the movement. Shuffling toward the sound, she found an open door through which golden candlelight spilled. Peering around the door frame, she spotted Michael lounging on a settee, his arm draped over the back.

He’d changed into jeans and a casual gray t-shirt that stretched tight over his buff chest. Two dozen candles burned on the coffee table in front of him. Emily gulped at the romantic sight, reminding her heart not to get caught up in the setting.

“There you are.” He gazed up at her, his dark eyes trailing from her face and down her body to her bare feet.

She blushed and pulled the robe tighter, hoping she looked decent enough. “Your mom’s closet is epic. I almost got lost in there.”

With a chuckle, he wiped a hand through his wet hair. “Yeah, she calls it her happy place.” He patted a hand on the cushion beside him. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Hesitation kept her glued to the doorway for a long moment as she thought about the dark parlor and the candlelight and the utterly gorgeous man sitting there waiting for her. This was not the date she’d prepared herself for.

“I promise, I won’t bite,” he said, a crooked grin slowly growing on his face. “But I figured we couldn’t go out looking like we’d just taken a dip in the pool. The staff has already gone home for the night. So, I raided my parents wine stash. How does one hundred year old French Grand Cru sound to you?”

?

Michael tried not to stare at Emily as she sat next to him in the white, fluffy bathrobe. It was taking all his self-control to gaze resolutely at his glass of wine and ignore the sight of the beautiful woman sitting beside him. She’d weathered the storm without complaint, not once mentioning the lavish date that had gone up in flames that evening.

They’d spent the last hour drying on the couch, discussing his last trip to Venice and her most recent beach escapade with Lydia. He liked their easy conversations. There was no pressure, no expectations.

He couldn’t dismiss the fact that there was something different about her. Something that made his heart stutter when she looked up at him through her lashes or laughed at his jokes. It was a dizzying experience, one that he was trying desperately to ignore.

“Your home is amazing,” she said, gazing up at parts of the parlor that hid in half shadow. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s my parents’ home,” he said with an appreciative smile. “My home is a high-rise penthouse closer to the office. But I do enjoy coming back here once in a while. Especially when my mother hosts her soirees. They’re great networking events.”

“I also saw a family picture in the hallway. Was that your sister?”

His jaw twitched and he settled back into the settee, once again draping his arm across the couch. “Yes, that’s Rebecca. She’s currently in Paris trying to build her modeling career.”

“I suppose it helps to have such a well-established family,” Emily said, taking a tiny sip of her wine. “Lots of connections in that industry.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t sure how much he should reveal to a woman he barely knew. But the candlelight and the conversation seemed to have loosened his tongue.

“No, Rebecca is determined to go at this alone. Our father treated his family much the same way he does his business — with an iron grip. She moved out the moment she graduated and hasn’t looked back. It’s been years since she’s returned home.”

Emily was silent for a moment. He hazarded a glance at her, wondering if she was immersed in judging his family, as so many often did. She stared at her wine glass and pursed her lips, until she finally looked up and their eyes met.

“I suppose even whole families have their troubles, don’t they?”

A sympathetic smile played on her full lips. “My dad left when I was ten. I often wished he’d come back, even though, looking back, we weren’t happy even when he was around. Still, I had this strange idea that if I had a mom and a dad, then everything would work itself out. That’s certainly not the truth.”

Michael’s breath caught in his lungs. It wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. Most people thought of his baby sister as spoiled and ungrateful. He knew the truth and missed Rebecca with an incredible fierceness. Emily’s acceptance of his family’s faults, along with her own vulnerability hit him hard.