Patricia Seeley - The Millionaire Meets His Match

She grew up on the East Coast but came to Oregon to dog-and-cat-and-house-sit for a friend who was going on a walking tour of Europe for six months. By the time her friend had returned, Patricia had developed an attachment to the beautiful state, in spite of all the rain.

Patricia and her husband of ten years have one cat, who was semi-namelessly referred to as “The Kitty” for the first eight years they had her, and who is now technically named Kitty Sue.

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MEET WOMAN TO WATCH Patricia Seeley

What was your inspiration for THE MILLIONAIRE MEETS HIS MATCH?

PS: I saw two unrelated articles concerning missing pets that became the basis for the plot. Using the idea of a cat kidnapping as the impetus for bringing the hero and heroine together, I thought about the various roles each might play that would bring them together and at the same time create a conflict between them.

What about the Silhouette Romance line appeals to you as a reader and as a writer?

PS: I like the old-fashioned, sweet and innocently sexy feeling of the Romance line. I’m a fan of old 1940s films, particularly Claudette Colbert movies. I love the tone of those movies—romantic attraction played out with warmth, humor and clear but understated sexiness.

Why is THE MILLIONAIRE MEETS HIS MATCH special to you?

PS: I really like the characters in this book. The narrative line is so strongly character driven that it was always easy to pick up where I had left off. I also like the humor. And I really did have a cat named Crudley, and it was fun to use him in the story.

Chapter One

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Cass Appleton glared across the wide expanse of teak desk at the office manager safely shielded behind it.

Mr. Howard, as his brass nameplate proclaimed him, smiled with a practiced artificial concern that said he was used to dealing with overwrought women. “Simply that,” he said in his most consciously soothing voice. “When the attendants arrived this morning, they found the door open...”

“I don’t believe it!” Cass slapped both hands on the polished wood surface of the desk. “How could you let this happen? I told you he could slip off those ridiculous hook latches you use on the doors. I told you that you’d need to take extra precautions. It’s sheer negligence for you to have let him escape despite my warnings. With the rates you charge, the least I have a right to expect is that you won’t—” She broke off, unwilling to admit the harsh reality. “Won’t...misplace my cat. Have you checked behind all the furniture?”

“My dear Miss Appleton, you didn’t allow me to finish. It wasn’t simply your cat’s cage that was found open, but the rear door of the clinic itself. We were burglarized last night”

Cass continued to stare at him, unappeased. “Are you trying to tell me someone broke in here and stole my cat?”

Surprise ruffled briefly across Mr. Howard’s carefully composed features before he regained his self-possession. “Of course not,” he assured her. “Your animal, as you know, has very little monetary value. I meant that although your cat did, apparently, manage to get out of his cage, he still would have been perfectly safe and sound inside the clinic building had we not experienced this unforeseeable break-in. I’m happy to say our alarm system worked perfectly and the thieves were frightened off before any of the expensive drugs or equipment could be taken. Unfortunately, your—” he dropped his gaze to the file folder on his desk “—Cuddly evidently used the opportunity to run off through the outer office doors.”

“Crud-ley,” Cass corrected him through gritted teeth.

“Pardon?” Mr. Howard asked as if suspecting he’d just been sworn at in some foreign tongue.

“His name is Crudley, not Cuddly. The r isn’t silent.”

Mr. Howard straightened his tie and relaxed fractionally. “Oh. Of course. In any case, I did send the boys out immediately to search the area as soon as I was informed one of the animals was missing. But on these busy streets, with all the early-morning traffic that rushes by, they weren’t able to find any sign of him.” He shrugged philosophically, apparently able to detach himself from the unpleasant reality of the fate he’d just suggested Cass’s cat would inevitably meet

“All I can do now,” he continued, “is tender the doctor’s sincere sympathy for your loss and my personal apologies for the negligence of the kennel staff. I assure you, they will be sharply reprimanded for this oversight. Naturally you won’t be charged for your cat’s two days’ board. And although there is no question of your suffering any financial loss by your cat’s disappearance, the doctor has instructed me to offer you a free replacement, with all its shots, and a free neutering when the time comes. We have several nice kittens available right now, if you’d care to pick one out. Then we can all put this unpleasant incident behind us.”

Cass felt the hot color rising to her cheeks. “I don’t want a ‘replacement.’ I want Crudley back. I left him in your care. You’re responsible. Do something.” The last words came out almost a plea, and Cass instantly despised herself for asking anything of this heartless petty functionary. Were there people who could be appeased by the kind of cold-blooded drivel Mr. Howard had been spouting? Or was she merely too inconsequential to rate a conference with the clinic’s owner himself? “I want to talk to Dr. Bellingham,” she declared.

The office manager shook his head and sighed. “I’m afraid that will be impossible. The doctor’s schedule is quite full for the next several days—the annual dog show, you know. In any case, I assure you I have followed precisely the doctor’s instructions on this matter. There is nothing further that he, or I, can do for you.”

Cass stood and smoothed the creases from her rapidly wilting summer suit. “We’ll see about that,” she said, hoping but doubting that the words sounded vaguely ominous.

The office manager smirked priggishly and barely inclined his head in acknowledgment of her empty threat, then rose fluidly to open the door for her to leave.

Outside, the late-afternoon sun still blazed high in the sky, sending waves of heat rippling up from the hot asphalt parking lot. The scorching air suddenly seemed too suffocating to inhale, and Cass staggered slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

She never should have brought Crudley to this callous overpriced clinic. She’d deliberately chosen the most expensive veterinarian in town, a man whose patrons included most of the elite in Newport society, believing Crudley would receive the best possible care from him. Now, it turned out, she had been wrong to assume he was well cared for.

Cass stalked over to her car, threw open the door and then slammed it shut behind her. Shoving the key in the ignition, she started the engine with an unnecessary roar and turned the air-conditioning on full. The cooling blast did little to ease the fevered anguish that overwhelmed her. It was too much. On top of everything else that had been miserable and hopeless in the past three days, now Crudley was gone.

Gone. The word brought such a spasm of pain to her midsection that Cass felt nauseated, such a tightening of her throat that she could scarcely breathe. She slumped over the steering wheel and rested her head on her forearms, feeling the tears well up in her eyes and overflow down her flushed cheeks.

A gentle tapping on her window startled her. Cass looked up to see Bobby, one of the kennel attendants, peering anxiously at her through the glass. She pushed the air-conditioning switch to a lower setting and rolled down her window.