Seducing The Matchmaker: One Man Rush / Taking Him Down / The Personal Touch

“I mean, I shouldn’t have pitched my services so forcefully.” She didn’t want it to sound as if she’d thrown herself at him in a personal way. Although, there was no denying she’d all but melted in his arms.

“I agree. But lucky for you, I’ve thought of a way you can make it up to me.” He leaned forward to peer inside the house. “Can I come in or am I going to have to proposition you in front of the whole neighborhood?”

“Proposition?” Foreboding mingled with anticipation as she debated the wisdom of having him in her mom’s house. Marissa had moved into a converted guest cottage after the accident so she could be close to her mother all the time. Technically they lived in separate buildings, but they were within shouting distance if any of the caregivers had problems. No doubt that was how Kyle had found her, since her business card contained the address for the smaller building in back. “I don’t know. I’m not alone.”

She sneaked a peek toward the dining room but didn’t hear anything from her mother.

“We don’t need to be alone for this.” His smile was pure bad boy. “Although I’m glad to know you’re thinking along those lines.”

His words smoked over her with phantom heat.

Her mouth dried up and she couldn’t think of a comeback. She couldn’t have denied it if she tried.

“I’m here because I need your help,” he said finally. “I just want you to tell me how to get a rabid pack of professional matchmakers off my case.”

And didn’t that deflate her ego? She should have known he wouldn’t be chasing after her in the cold light of day for romantic reasons. Speaking of cold, the chill of a northern spring reminded her she’d let far too much cool air in the house. But then, Kyle had a knack for sapping away all her normal good sense.

“All right.” Stepping back, she gestured him inside. “Just give me a minute to settle my mother with her afternoon nurse and we can go talk in the guest house.”

Why worry about being alone with him when he was only here to elude the rest of the matchmaking world? Obviously, she’d succeeded in pushing him away the night before. So how come she didn’t feel relieved?

“Seriously?” He stepped into the foyer and she shoved the door closed behind him. “I didn’t think it would be that easy convincing you to help.”

“Maybe I feel bad about the hard sell last night.” She waved him deeper into the house, away from the dining room and toward the addition in the back where an airy family room looked out over the pool. “Come with me.”

“This is an impressive house.” Kyle peered around the family room, where overstuffed chairs mingled with antique Mexican furnishings. Amps and sound equipment collected dust on one end of the space where framed album covers and news clippings covered one wall. “You didn’t mention your mother is Brandy Collins.”

She tensed, never prepared to talk about her mom’s accident. Months later, it was still too painful, mostly because she didn’t know what the future held for recovery.

“I moved out of an apartment downtown last fall after her accident.” Everyone knew about the car crash, which had occurred after the kick-off concert of Brandy’s first tour in two years. The story had made national headlines, and was still a feature in the entertainment news long after the regular media had finished talking about the accident. “It’s easier for me to be here since she has a lot of appointments and needs extra help. I live in the guest cottage out back.”

“That’s really good of you.” Taking her hand, he folded it in his. “It must be hard for you to take on so much.”

Most people asked a lot of questions about her mother. Expressed their love of her music and their prayers for her recovery. All of which Marissa was always grateful for. But just now, having Kyle take a moment to acknowledge her sacrifice and her role in the ordeal warmed her heart.

More than that, it made her realize one of the reasons she was so attracted to him. He might be wealthy and famous, a superstar in his own right. Yet he was incredibly real. A genuinely down-to-earth, relatable guy. And having known plenty of famous people, Marissa realized how rare it was to maintain that kind of grounded attitude in the world he moved in. Hadn’t Stacy mentioned that Kyle wanted to start a youth hockey camp? Obviously, he was about more than just winning.

“She’s my mom,” she said simply. “I’m glad that my being here helps her be able to stay at home. She gets confused easily, and I think the familiar surroundings are comforting.”

He squeezed her hand hard before letting her go.

“Not every daughter would be so dedicated.”

Her eyes burned at his unexpected kindness. She’d been so emotional around him last night and today. It had to be a reaction to all the stress trying to pay the bills.

“Thank you.” Backing up a step, she figured the sooner she helped him plot a way to elude the east coast’s top matchmakers, the sooner she’d return to her own work. The sooner she’d quit thinking about how much she wanted another kiss. “I’ll just be a minute if you want to have a seat. I’ll let the nurse know she needs to sit with Mom and then we can figure out what to do about your new fans.”

With a clipped nod, he agreed, giving her time to get things settled at the main house. When she returned to the family room, Kyle was reading some of the framed articles about her mother.

“I’m ready.” She headed toward the French doors leading out to the pool. “We can talk in the guest cottage so we don’t have to worry about waking Mom. It’s not extravagant, but it’s comfortable.”

“After you.” Reaching over her head, he palmed the surface of the door, holding it for her.

She slipped past him, catching a scent of soap and aftershave, which did curious things to her insides. Being alone with him would present a challenge, but she couldn’t just leave him to the professional matchmakers to tear apart.

After all, she’d started the hunt for him thanks to Stacy Goodwell’s insistence. Maybe she felt responsible for allowing Stacy to think she could dictate whom she wanted to meet, something that had bothered her from the start, since it went against her theory of matchmaking. Either way, Marissa hadn’t meant to make Kyle a target for other matchmakers in an insane competition dreamed up by Phil Goodwell.

Besides, maybe Marissa didn’t like the idea of Kyle being forced into the dating pool. Why should he have to date Stacy just because her father was a powerful man who might sponsor Kyle’s dream of a youth hockey camp?

The idea of him dating other women inspired a possessiveness she had no business feeling.

By the time she reached the guest cottage, her hands were shaky as she slid the key into the lock. Because of her mother. Because of stress.

Even as she tried to make excuses, she knew that wasn’t why.

“Let me.” Kyle’s hand covered hers on the key since she’d apparently forgotten which way it turned.

His powerful body sheltered hers from the breeze, never touching her but making her utterly aware of his presence. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. Feeling his warmth. His nearness.

Too soon, he had the door open, his hand falling away from hers. By now she was jittery, the way she’d felt in the days when she drank too much caffeine and didn’t eat enough breakfast. Only this time, it was a case of too much sexual frustration and not enough Kyle Murphy.

Half stumbling inside the cottage, she stepped on the ice-blue shag carpet in a living area that was a nod to the seventies and the disco-era. Daylight filtered in the half-closed blinds, but the room was dim with no lights on. Danish modern furniture and an iconic pole lamp with brown metal shades blurred in her mind, a dreamlike backdrop for the only thing that seemed clear in her field of vision.

A strong, attractive athlete who looked at her as if she was beautiful. He followed her inside and closed the door behind him. The fact that he locked it sent a shiver through her. She swallowed hard.

“I don’t know why I thought I could be alone with you.” She had no willpower when it came to Kyle. Hadn’t she seen as much when he’d kissed her the last time? She’d been ready to climb into his lap and strip them both naked.

“Maybe you realized that last night was special.”

Or maybe she was just crazy. All she could think about was the way it had felt to have his hands on her. His lips hot on hers.

“Which, in the end, didn’t go so well.” She cleared her throat since her voice seemed to have dwindled to nothing.

“Only because you insisted on saying it was all a mistake.” He stepped closer, making his intent clear.

Her heart raced. She wanted to say something, but words seemed inadequate to express the tumult of feelings and sensations swirling inside her. He’d been so kind about her mom. So thoughtful about backing off when she’d panicked after their kiss.

“I don’t think it was a mistake,” he reiterated.

Her heart beat so loud now she could hear it in her ears.

“The only error we made was stopping too soon.” His hands slid around her waist and she was lost.

No, she’d been lost from the moment she’d brought him here—to the privacy of the guest cottage—where she could have him all to herself.

“How did you sleep last night, Marissa?” he asked, breathing the question so softly over her ear that her skin tingled all the way up her spine.

“Not so well,” she answered honestly, arching her neck in the sincere hope he would kiss her there again. “I contacted my client. Told her I’m withdrawing from the race to secure you as a date for her.”