Nicola Marsh - The Tycoon's Dating Deal

‘Just keep writing, love, and I’ll take care of the rest.’

Within minutes, Kara had completed the forms. In several hours she would be having drinks with a bunch of strangers with the aim of finding a ‘suitable’ partner. If it weren’t for the fact that Sally was desperate, she would tear up her application on the spot.

She’d been looking forward to going home, slipping into a hot bath and listening to the soothing sounds of her favourite soul singer. Today hadn’t been one of her better days. The Smithsons, who owned half of exclusive Double Bay, had been pestering her to redesign their conservatory. Unfortunately, she’d had to endure the wailing violin practice from their prodigy granddaughter for the entire two hours that it took to discuss the plans.

Sally’s call on her mobile phone had been welcome. Momentarily. In fact, in choosing between an evening of speed dating and spending another few hours with the screeching violin, Kara was wavering towards the violin.

‘So I’ll see you tonight?’

Kara sighed. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’

Sally laughed. ‘You’ve got that look. You know, the one you always had when I dragged you off to the dentist.’

‘You’re not far off the mark, Sal. The way I’m feeling at the moment, I think I’d rather have a tooth pulled.’

Sally patted her cheek, love radiating from her brown eyes. ‘Why don’t you head home and relax? The evening will be over before you know it.’

‘Mmm,’ she mumbled, already preoccupied with thoughts of making idle chit-chat with a bunch of strange men.

Shutting the door to Sally’s inner office, she glanced around the reception area with pride. Not bad for a novice, she thought, considering the office had been one of her early projects. She loved her job, particularly the artistic licence of combining colours, shapes and dimensions in an imaginative free-for-all. A pity her customers didn’t think the same; after a busy few months when she first opened, business had slowed to a crawl. Sal wasn’t the only one who desperately needed money. Kara needed a cash injection—and fast.

As she reached for the outer door, it was flung open, almost knocking her sideways.

‘Sorry. Are you OK?’

No, I’m not. She stared into the face of the last man she’d expected to see. Entering a dating agency, no less!

‘Kara? What a surprise.’

Matthew Byrne’s strong arms enveloped her in a vice-like hug. All the old feelings rushed back: longing and desire for the man, inadequacy at being the woman he didn’t want. She hadn’t mastered her emotions one iota. He still had the power to reduce her to a blathering idiot. Not that she would let him know.

‘Hi, Matt. Good to see you.’ She almost choked on the words as she eased from his embrace. Her head was spinning, her pulse racing. He’d probably restricted her oxygen supply, he’d hugged her so tight.

‘Look at you, all grown up.’

As his gaze raked over her body, goosebumps peppered her skin. His stare lingered on her breasts a second too long before returning to her face.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look casual yet knowing she failed miserably.

To her chagrin, he grinned, the same devilish smile that had haunted her dreams for years. He had seen her reaction and was probably loving every minute of it.

Lifting her chin, she glared at him.

‘Yeah, that tends to happen to little girls.’

She wondered if he remembered those painful words he’d uttered on the night of her eighteenth birthday. The night he’d broken her heart.

A flicker of awareness leaped in the azure depths of his eyes before he masked it.

‘Well, you’re far from little any more. You look gorgeous. It’s a shame we haven’t stayed in touch over the years.’

Kara could drown in the endless blue of his eyes. She’d never seen a colour like them, that potent mix of violet and sapphire, with the barest hint of emerald. A corny way to describe them, yet nothing but flowery language could come close to describing their brilliance. Purple, blue and green would be far too ordinary for the likes of Matt Byrne’s eyes.

Her skin warmed as a slow blush crept into her cheeks. She could guess what it would have been like to ‘keep in touch’, Matt-style. His hands lightly caressing every inch of her skin, his lips trailing over her body, exploring her most intimate secrets.

As if sensing her thoughts, he reached towards her and cupped her cheek.

‘You look adorable, blushing like that. Still the same old Kara, huh?’

His low, husky voice rasped across her nerve endings. She yearned to lean into his hand, to feel the comfort that only he could give.

Instead, she remembered the crushing kiss, frantic hands and then the powerful rejection that had lasted a lifetime. Matt Byrne had pushed her away in the cruellest way possible, belittling her to the point where she couldn’t speak to him again.

Now here he was, sauntering into her life like a superhero and acting the part: flexed muscles, broad chest, chiselled face, killer smile. All he needed was the cape and his underwear on the outside of his designer suit and the picture would be complete.

She laughed. The underwear image did it. Once lodged in her brain, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

‘What’s so funny?’ Matt’s hundred-watt smile faltered.

‘Sorry. Just old memories. You know how it is.’ She wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping that her mascara hadn’t smudged.

‘I didn’t think our memories were that funny.’ He rubbed her upper arms, running his hands under the sleeves of her T-shirt. It was an intimate caress, one that frightened her with its power to arouse.

She pulled back before she did something really stupid, like stand there helpless and let him kiss her. Which was what he looked like doing, though she couldn’t fathom why.

‘All ancient history. I hear you’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Your life as the corporate-lawyer-cum-playboy must be filled with more excitement than old memories.’

His eyes narrowed, some of the light vanishing. ‘Don’t believe everything you read. The media thrive on gossip to sell their print.’

‘Well, you must have shares, because your reported behaviour could sell a million copies alone.’

She sounded catty but couldn’t help the annoyance at some of his antics, if the newspapers were correct.

Matt featured in the gossip columns on a weekly basis, an endless supply of beautiful, silicone-enhanced women draped over his arm. And other parts, no doubt. His reputation as a playboy was plastered all over the Sydney papers. She’d had a lucky escape. So why did she always screw up the newspaper in a tight ball and fling it across the room every time Matt Byrne and his latest acquisition were mentioned?

‘Speaking of reputations, what are you doing here? You’re the last man I’d expect to see waltzing into a dating agency. Problem with your charm?’

Though her teasing was light-hearted, she noticed his smile waned. Matt wasn’t as cool as he pretended. She had struck a nerve.

His laugh sounded forced. ‘Nothing wrong with my charm, Kara. You should know that.’

She could hardly disagree when he was standing right in front of her, resurrecting provocative memories that she’d successfully suppressed. Until now. ‘So, why are you here?’

His reply was short, sharp and ominous. ‘Business.’ Damn, Sally must be in more trouble than she thought if lawyers were already on her tail.

‘Go easy on her, won’t you?’ she said, wishing once again there was something else she could do for Sally.

She didn’t understand the look that flashed across his face momentarily. His face was an intriguing combination of angles: smooth yet hard, straight yet curved. A faint stubble darkened his jaw, typical of his end-of-day growth. Lord, she’d give anything to feel that stubble rubbed along any part of her body. Or all of it for that matter!