She made the introductions and fell smoothly into her role. The women all seemed to have a special quality she believed Slade was looking for, but it was Hannah whom she felt the most strongly about. With her dark good looks, curvy body, and sweet personality, she had the whole package. Her career as an accountant brought a seriousness Slade would respect. Her father was a well-known family court judge, and her mother an elementary school teacher. Satisfaction coursed through her at the immediate ease of conversation as they talked law and business. Kate retreated to the bar to keep an eye on the scene and give them the privacy needed.

  She nibbled on cocktail shrimp and watched Slade work the room. She imagined his presence in court brought him a huge asset. It wasn't just the breadth of his shoulders stretched under his shirt or the grace with which he prowled from woman to woman. It wasn't even his piercing gaze or charming smile. No, his aura pulsed with sexual energy and a physical awareness to which no female was immune.

  Including her.

  Kate slid onto the red bar stool and grabbed a glass of Merlot. Whatever. She'd be more worried if she didn't lust after Slade Montgomery. At least her hormones were alive and kicking. She just needed to redirect them.

  "And who is that gorgeous man you're panting over?"

  The teasing question snapped her head. Genevieve bumped her shoulder and slid onto the stool beside her. She looked beautifully tousled in her jeans, peach sweater, and loose topknot. Kate laughed and gave her a quick hug. "You made it! I thought you were working an extra shift?"

  Gen wrinkled her nose. "No, thank God. I have to pull an all-nighter tomorrow so I figured I'd grab some time to see you guys. Though I should probably be sleeping, as David says."

  "Can you tempt him with sex in the on-call room like in Grey's?" she whispered.

  "Nah, I use the on-call room to sleep. Usually because I'm dirty, smelly, and exhausted. Sex doesn't tempt me."

  "Bummer."

  "So, who's the hot guy?"

  Kate slid her gaze back to his perfectly formed ass. She cleared her throat. "My new client. Slade Montgomery."

  "Why the hell does he need Kinnections?"

  "See, that's why I didn't hire you: you suck at PR. Because he doesn't have time to sort through the reams of women looking to date him."

  "He's definitely into the tall brunette. How do some women get the tall gene and I get the Hobbit one?"

  Kate gave her a playful shove. "You're not a Hobbit, you maniac. You're petite and gorgeous. I'd find your mate if you hadn't already."

  Gen pulled her brows in a slight frown. "I'm not ready to get married, I'm still in residency. We're just experimenting."

  "Right. He's perfect for you. Your father and Alexa are mad about him, and you know they never approve of anyone."

  "Yeah. I guess."

  Her lackluster response made Kate pause. "You are crazy about him, aren't you, Gen?"

  "Hell, yes. He's got the whole package and things are going great. I just don't want to jinx it."

  Kate relaxed. "I understand. Is your sidekick coming out tonight?"

  "No. Wolfe said he was buried in details for the new opening of Purity. It's coming up in a few months and he's working around the clock."

  Wolfe and Gen had met at NYU and clicked immediately; he was now a close family friend who ran a five-star hotel in the city. He also frequented Gen's many family get-togethers.

  "No wonder you guys are a pair. Ambitious workaholics unite."

  "I don't see you painting the town red either."

  She ignored her friend's astute observation and decided not to listen to any more cracks about her love life. Or lack of it. Slade disengaged himself from Hannah's side and headed toward the bar. His gaze burned with purpose and focus.

  Her panties dampened.

  Damn him.

  Gen let out a low whistle. "Umm, I'm heading toward the bar to look for Ken. Good luck."

  Her friend disappeared. Slade closed the distance.

  Kate wet her dry lips and looked up. "How's it going? I didn't want to interfere when it looked like you had things under control."

  He studied her face, focusing on her newly wet lips. Like he was ready to dip his head and kiss the moisture from her mouth. Focus, Kate, focus. "I'm fine. Did I mingle enough yet?"

  She raised a brow. "You're done? If you don't need any more time to pick your date, that's fine. Who did you connect with?"

  "No one."

  "Huh?"

  "I mean, they're all very nice. Attractive. Funny. I'm quite impressed with your picks."

  She cocked her head. "But you didn't connect with anyone. Do you want me to hold another mixer and give you some other choices?"

  "Nah. They're good."

  Irritation itched at her skin. Kate clamped down on her emotions and reminded herself he was just another difficult client. No big deal. "Okay. So who would you like to pick for your date?"

  He reached around her and scooped up a glass of Merlot. "You pick."

  A strange roaring echoed in her ears. "What did you just say? You want me to pick your date?"

  Those massive shoulders lifted. He seemed more interested in the wine, food, and hanging with her. "Sure. You're the professional. You know what I'm looking for and probably already sense who's the best for me. Who would you pick?"

  "Hannah Easton," she said quickly. "Did you have any chemistry?"

  "Sure. She's smoking. And nice. Great choice--set it up." He glanced at the empty table. "Damn, I was hoping for more of those crab cakes. Think we can get some from the chef?"

  Kate clenched her fingers and breathed deeply. She suddenly felt like a cheap broker rather than a tastefully skilled matchmaker. What was really going on here? "Are you really committing yourself to this process? You don't seem enthusiastic. You need to be--"

  "Open. I know. I am." He shifted his gaze, studying her with an intensity that peeled away her lying exterior and exposed her bodily truth. The masculine scents of tobacco, spice, and a hint of grapefruit hit her nostrils and affected her like she'd dropped into a Godiva factory. What was he wearing? Reminded her of the bonding scent vampires threw off when they met their soul mates in her fave series, The Black Dagger Brotherhood. Kate locked her knees to keep from leaning forward and taking a big whiff. And biting his neck. "You seem ready to yank my membership at any misstep." Amusement laced his tone and softened the brackets around his mouth. "Do most men you set up easily fall for the first woman they meet?"

  She stiffened her spine. "No. But I don't trust you."

  He leaned in another inch. "I'm a divorce lawyer and a man who's attracted to you. You'd be crazy to trust me."

  His outrageous honesty and droll humor stole her smart-ass answer. "Fine. I'll set up your date with Hannah. Kinnections pays for it, but you need to check with me. No private charter planes or trips to Vegas. Keep it simple and elegant. Dinner, drinks, dancing, intimate atmospheres to get to know one another."

  "Yes, coach. Do you get rid of them now or do I have to?"

  She smothered a laugh. "I will. Let's go tell the lucky lady, and I'll take care of the rest."

  Kate tried to slide off the stool, but her boot heel got hooked in the ring. Slade reached out automatically to help, and his hand imprint burned into her upper arm, searing right through the thin silk material of her blouse and scorching skin.

  Her body exploded in a riot of messiness. The sting of energy made her push him away in a frantic attempt to make him let go. The stool teetered, and she crashed to the floor.

  "What the hell was that?" His shocked look as he stared at her in a crumple of limbs bought her a few precious seconds. He made another attempt to help her up, but she scooted back on the floor with her hands in front of her. "D-d-d-don't touch me. I-I-I'm wearing f-f-fur."

  His brows slammed together over a blue storm cloud. "What type of fur do you own? It's more like eel skin that gives off electrical currents. For God's sake, let me help you up."

  Kate got to her k
nees and scrambled to her feet. Like her legs, her tongue twisted in her mouth, and her past limitations roared before her and sped up her heart. "Th-th-thank you, but I'm fine. I'm s-s-sorry."

  He tilted his head and studied her face as if she were an alien experiment meant to save the earth. Kate closed her eyes and pictured a blank white screen. Peace. Harmony. She breathed, concentrating on relaxing her muscles and her lips, going back to the safe place she had created to trust herself and allow herself to speak again. When she reopened her eyes, her pulse had steadied. Slow, with a tinge of music to keep the sounds flowing. "I apologize for that. I must stop wearing these boots before I hurt someone." She forced a light laugh. "Now, let's put that embarrassing scene behind us and say good-bye to our guests."

  "Not yet."

  She froze. He eased over and blocked her path with one smooth motion. Jammed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. His magnifying presence kept her still, unable to do anything else but wait. He lowered his voice to an intimate pitch.

  "Same thing happened when we kissed. What's going on?"

  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.