Meg Maguire - Seducing The Matchmaker - One Man Rush / Taking Him Down / The Personal Touch

As if he hadn’t laughed it up over her foolish idea to ask him out just two days ago. It would be so much easier to be mad at him if he wasn’t so hot. What was it about his quiet, thoughtful stares that made her feel like an interesting, alluring woman instead of a replaceable hot babe?

“I don’t think so.” She folded her arms, silently urging her pets to show a little teeth. Maybe give a warning growl.

Instead, they seemed intent on circling him to death, chasing each other around his heels.

“Okay,” he agreed slowly, as if the word had to be dragged out of him. “But do you want to, maybe, put clothes on first?”

For an instant, she was genuinely scared she’d walked out onto the street naked. She wouldn’t put it past her to flake out and forget to dress. But no, she wore a perfectly respectable bathrobe over semirespectable pinstripe pajamas. They probably weren’t cut out for the commercial area growing up around a few old residential buildings. But she had to think the few folks living on this street must venture out to get their newspapers in a bathrobe now and then.

“No. I’m good, thanks.” Although, as soon as she said it, she wondered if the cool spring breeze might inadvertently press the fabric close enough to reveal a little too much.

Instead of arguing with her, Isaac reached back into his van and withdrew a black wool blazer. He handed over the jacket and stood silently.

She blinked back a wave of emotion. Her dad would have launched into conversation the second he saw her and not let up until he’d cataloged all the ways she could have handled the situation differently than storming outside in her pajamas. Isaac just covered her up.

But no matter how much she wanted him, she had to remember, he didn’t want her. She took a deep breath.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the scent of his aftershave a pleasant musk in her nose.

“I followed you,” he said simply, flooring her.

“Excuse me?” She snapped her fingers ineffectually at the dogs, trying to quiet them so she could hear whatever scant words fell from Isaac’s mouth.

“I wanted to know more about you, so I looked you up online. I watched the video and respect what you’re doing.”

“You wanted to know more about me.” She didn’t ask why, although the question was burning to come out. But she wasn’t going to appear overeager with this guy and … oh, to hell with it. “Why? Why would you want to know more about someone you found lacking just two days ago?”

She snapped her fingers again at the dogs, unwilling to see them cozy up to Isaac. But they just barked at her vague commands, the tiny bells on their collars jingling with the force of their yippy protests. Traitors.

“I didn’t find you lacking. I thought you were spying on me.” He bent toward the adoring fans at his feet.

While Stacy tried to make sense of what he just said, Isaac scooped up a dog under each arm and juggled them easily until Tink and Belle settled happily against his chest. She imagined what it would feel like to trade places with the canines. To be back in the circle of his arms.

“Why would I spy on you? I didn’t even know who you were—” Although, come to think of it, she knew about him now. Some big-deal techno-gadget man. A discreetly wealthy graphics chip maker. “Did you think I was some kind of Gotham City villain out to steal the plans for your microchip? Maybe block out the sun and take over the town while I was at it?”

The sarcasm surprised her since she was usually frustratingly nice to guys even when they didn’t deserve it. Yet with Isaac—who still appealed to her more than any other—she said what came to mind. He would probably never understand why that was a good thing. But she’d lived with her nice-girl reflex long enough to appreciate the ease with which she spoke to him.

“It’s not a microchip,” he informed her. “But I’m flattered you looked me up after the awkward way we parted.”

Damn it. Had she given that away? Better not admit she’d also had a professional matchmaker check him out.

“I needed to make sure you weren’t a serial killer,” she said defensively, unwilling to reveal any more soft feelings for him after putting herself on the line with him last time. She wasn’t about to give up her newfound independence.

Some kids rolled past on skateboards, their heads swiveling to take in her outfit. She really should have dressed before storming out here. Her toes curled in her slippers as she sidled closer to Isaac.

“I looked you up, too,” he admitted, giving the kids the hairy eyeball until they rolled away. “I know you’re not a spy and I’m sorry for misreading the situation.”

For a moment, she was wooed by the sound of his voice, so warm and deep. But she couldn’t afford to get sucked in by him again. She needed to be more discerning when it came to men. Although he’d sure come a long way to apologize.

“How did you know where to find me?” She didn’t remember saying where she’d be staying in her video blog. “Did you honestly drive three hundred miles to find me?”

“Technically? I had my security team keep an eye on you after we met—”

“You followed me?”

“Not me personally—”

“No. Only your security team. ” She grabbed the lapels of the jacket and squeezed them tighter, peering around the street for spies. “What threat could I possibly have posed to you with my hobbled ankle while I was lost in a freaking parking lot?”

She wasn’t offended, per se. Possibly, she was a little flattered to think she looked like a dangerous industrial spy. Before he could answer, she continued.

“I mean, it’s one thing to think I was up to no good back at that hotel the other night. But once you found out who I was, Stacy Goodwell the clumsy trust-fund baby—”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” His words were so sharp it took her a moment to realize he was saying something nice.

“You live in town. You must know how I’m portrayed in the social pages.” A double slap in the face since her biggest detractor was a fellow columnist at the paper. “I’m the one who’s always tripping and spilling things, talking too loud, making a spectacle of myself on the dance floor.”

“You’re effusive and passionate.” He said it with a straight face.

“Is that my problem?” she asked, scuffing her slipper along a crack in the pavement.

“It’s not a problem. It’s a beautiful personality trait. And I had you followed because you graduated summa cum laude from U Penn with a business degree. That alerted me you could indeed be working for a competitor. But after more digging, we knew that wasn’t the case. I told my team to leave you alone.”

Even the degree program had been at her father’s prompting. She’d wanted to pursue something more creative.

“I’m glad you don’t think I’m a spy anymore.” What might have happened between them the other night if he hadn’t been suspicious?

“I think the video blog is great, by the way.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” He lowered Belle to the street now that the dog had calmed down. How did he know she was the alpha female of the pair? Once Belle was happy, Tink jumped down, too. “It’s a compelling concept for a video blog, but better yet, it’s a good way for you to show your father you’re serious about taking charge.”

“I know the break is long overdue, and I feel like a coward for leaving town when the video hit to avoid facing him—”

“That’s why you’re in Pittsburgh?”

“In theory, I’m here to root for the Phantoms.” She stood beside him as they watched the dogs investigate patches of garden around a few row houses. “But I also wanted to put some miles between me and my dad so he didn’t end up on my doorstep for hours, explaining why I’d made another misstep.”