Searching for Someday (Searching For 1)

She stuck out her chin. "Nothing. It was the fur."

"You were barefoot. So unless you wear fur underwear, you're lying." A gleam of interest lit his eyes. "Do you wear fur underwear?"

"No!"

"I rest my case."

She panicked and lost her patience. Desperate to get away and drop the subject, she hurled the words at him. "Fine, I'll tell you. I'm a witch. I cast wacky love spells on our clients, and I was practicing on you to see what I'd need to create to match you. Satisfied?"

That should do it. She'd read somewhere to wrap a little fact with a whole lot of fiction. He seemed to calculate, weigh, and judge her reaction. Her thighs quivered and moisture drenched her core. God, she loved a brainiac. Was there anything sexier than a man with a sharp mind?

"Know what scares me the most, Kate? I think some of it's accurate. You did cast some spell on me because ever since I met you, I keep dreaming of burying my face between your thighs and watching you come."

Her mouth fell open. An odd squeak emerged. "D-d-don't talk like that. Believe what you want but leave me alone. It was a strange, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, and I don't intend to have a repeat. I need you to concentrate on your date with Hannah and move forward. There are no other options here."

Kate adjusted the buttons on her silk blouse, smoothed down her trouser pants, and turned on her heel, leaving him behind. His gaze burned into her back, but she ignored him and swore to get this whole debacle fixed.

She had no other choice left.

She needed to see her mother.

seven

SLADE WATCHED HER smoothly reject the other three women, set up the date with Hannah, and wrap up the entire mixer in a neat little bow. Normally, he'd be amused at his first foray into the love industry, but the lingering tingle in his hand distracted him.

Kate Seymour was hiding something big. And he was going to find out.

The woman intrigued him on every level. Her cool, composed appearance completely contradicted the lightning bolt her touch gave him and the obvious confusion and stutter when she was taken off guard.

Made him want to take her off guard in a variety of more . . . pleasant ways.

Like hard-core, no-holds-barred sex.

Her hips gracefully swayed, and he wrestled back his rapidly growing erection. Damn pants. How did she make them so sexy when she was all covered up? The peekaboo of her black camisole gave him a hint of delicate lace and a mouthwatering glimpse of cleavage. Then the black tuxedo jacket with the lush fur collar swung back and covered the whole thing up. The whole hide-and-seek game was starting to get him irritated.

He shouldn't have been so honest about his intention to get her naked, but the moment her skin slid over his, he exploded. As if he had no control over his body and the craving to take her. Not his smoothest moment, but he had plenty of time to recover.

He gave her credit, though. Slade expected to be underimpressed with the four choices at his mixer, but the women were everything he was looking for. Smart, funny, attractive, and independent. Weird, he didn't feel any type of physical charge, but his upcoming date with Hannah would give him a more intimate atmosphere and maybe something would emerge. Did he really want to keep chasing Kate when she didn't want to be caught? Better to try to focus on a woman who was eager to be with him and explore a possible connection. Even though he didn't believe in long-term love, an affair with a companion he enjoyed was something he missed.

But he wasn't ready to leave yet.

The ladies dispersed and Kate headed toward the bar. Slade picked up his wine and followed her. As if she sensed his stalking, she stopped short and he almost rammed into her. One arched brow rose. "Did you need something else?"

Ah, he was being officially dismissed. The humor of the situation made him want to push for more. This woman amused him with her bossiness and the way he seemed to underwhelm her. "Thought I'd hang with you for a bit. After all, it's a Friday night. Still early."

Pale pink lips tightened. "You could've continued the mixer for longer. The women were quite impressed with you."

"At least they were. You seem to treat me like an annoyance."

Her startled jerk satisfied him. "That's ridiculous. I'm only trying to do my job."

"Excellent. Then you can babysit your new client and let me buy you a drink."

His delight at her obvious attempt to ditch him was pretty sick. Maybe he was too spoiled by women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis. She gave a cute little humph, but politeness interceded. "The drinks are free," she said grudgingly. "At least till ten. Part of the contract for holding our exclusive mixers here."

"Good deal. Another Merlot or Chardonnay?"

Kate shook her head. "Merlot."

He walked to the bar, scooped up two fresh glasses, and handed her one. He wondered if she intrigued him by her mystery. Maybe if he broke through some of that reserved demeanor, he'd realize she wasn't as interesting as he originally believed. After all, it happened to him all the time. "So, tell me a little background on Kinnections. Not many people have the guts to start a new business in this economy, especially such a risky one."

Her snort told him she wasn't buying his fishing expedition. "Hope you do better in court when you're trying to dig for information. That was pure amateur."

Slade threw up his hands in surrender. "I'm interested in your company. Sue me."

Kate chuckled. "Fine. Let's get this over with. Cross-examine me, counselor."

Anticipation charged him up. "How did you decide to launch Kinnections?"

"The three of us met in college at NYU freshman year, got assigned a group project in English together, and became close friends. We decided to room together during college and graduated together."

He shook his head. "The three hot amigas tearing it up at NYU. The poor guys must not have known what hit them."

Her eyes flashed with a memory and a bite of pain. "It was different than you think."

"How so?"

Discomfort oozed from her pores. She shifted her weight. "We didn't really fit in with the regular crowd. That's probably a big reason we bonded so quickly."

"Specifics?"

"You're not getting any."

His shark instincts flamed to life. Slade tabled the topic for a later discussion when she was off guard. "What was your degree in?"

"Business management. I always dreamed of being an entrepreneur but wasn't sure what I wanted to focus on. Arilyn graduated with a degree in counseling, and Ken in media and communications. We pursued careers for a while but found everywhere lacking. One night we got drunk on cosmopolitans and came up with this whole idea of a matchmaking agency."

"Women still drink those, huh?"

"We do." Her eyes sparkled with the memory. "We were hung over the next morning but still agreed it was the best idea we ever had. We pooled our resources, our talent, and moved forward."

He loved the gutsiness. Most grown men he knew sat around whining because they hated their jobs but were too afraid to take any risks. "Why Verily? I'd think you can make a hell of a lot more money in Manhattan."

"We didn't want to go head-to-head with some of the big names in the city. Spindel, Kelleher, and many others would blow us out of the water. Verily has the perfect mix of young, career-oriented twenty-or thirtysomething professionals. It gives us the majority of the market, introduces us to a new client base, but is still close enough to Manhattan so we can host events there and still recruit. Our focus is the twenty-five to thirty-five bracket, and we don't accept clients outside those barriers. Gives us a special niche."

He nodded. "Nice move. Here's to brilliant drunken ideas." He clicked his glass to hers, and her lips curved in a genuine smile. What was it about the angles of her face, the fall of her hair over her brow, the stubborn tilt to her chin? Separately they were nothing extraordinary. Together, they held him almost . . . spellbound.

Yeah, let's get married and have babies 'cause you like the way she looks. That'll work.

He ignored the Ted-type voice in his head. Somehow, he didn't get the image of a funny teddy bear. More like a gleeful devil boy with black teeth. He shuddered at his mental insanity and refocused on the conversation. "How successful have you been?"

"Ten marriages in three years. A good percentage of engagements. Not bad stats, and hopefully we'll have more good news this year."

"Divorces yet?"

She bared her teeth. "No. But if I get the call, I'll send them over. Try to leave the cynicism at home on your date with Hannah, please."

"Of course. I'm very good on first dates."

"Yes, I'm sure my challenge will be getting her not to dump you by the third. Statistically, that's when elements of a true personality begin to leak out."

"Ouch. Don't you need to believe in your clients?"

A shimmering lock of angel gold slid over her cheek. She pushed it back. "No. I just need to match you."

His gaze locked with hers. Raw heat slithered in his veins and scratched at his skin. God, he longed to back her up against the wall and kiss that haughty expression off her face. Make her moan while he slid his fingers between her thighs and torture her for mouthing off. If she shocked him again, would it be like pushing into fire? His pants tented and Slade controlled his breathing to stave off an embarrassing scene. He needed to remember why he was putting himself through this whole charade. Why hooking up with his matchmaker would be a disaster, chemistry aside.