‘That’s a bit harsh. I’ve had plenty of dates in the last few years.’ She ignored the empty feeling that arose whenever the subject of men entered a conversation. Only one man had ever made her feel special and he was gone. Long gone.
‘Sure you have, sweetie, which is why you spend most of your free time with an old chook like me.’
‘You, old? Sure, there may be a few greys sprinkled in your hair and a couple of laughter-lines around your eyes, but old? Is that why you prefer to screen the male candidates personally? You forget, I’ve seen the way you glow after a session with some of your hunky applicants.’
Her teasing fell on deaf ears as Sally rustled the papers in front of her, suddenly businesslike.
‘Thanks for the confidence boost. You forgot to mention the extra forty pounds I’m carrying at the moment. Anyway, enough small talk. Complete these forms, missy, as I need to process them immediately. Then I think you’d better head home and get ready. I’ve got one last male to meet today and then tonight is all set. Once I’ve matched my thousandth couple, the DATY award has to be mine.’
Kara barely glanced at the forms, her stomach churning at the worried look on Sally’s face.
‘Is the agency in that much trouble, Sal?’
Though her own funds were limited since Inner Sanctum, her interior-design business, had drained most of her money, she would take a loan if needed to help Sally.
‘If I don’t win the DATY, Matchmaker will have to shut up shop. The prize money would go a long way to updating the computer system and the prestige will put this agency on the map.’ Sally sighed. ‘So yeah, you could say I’m in trouble.’
‘But how?’ Kara probed, knowing she wouldn’t like the answer. Guilt consumed her, increasing the tumultuous turning of her gut. In fact, she had a fair idea of what Sally was about to say.
‘I’ve never been a rich woman, darling, you know that. I put everything into making a home for us, with my investments providing the money to start up this.’ She threw her arms wide, indicating the office that served as Matchmaker’s headquarters. ‘I guess I didn’t do my sums right.’
Kara knew there was more to it than that. What Sally hadn’t mentioned was the amount of money she had loaned her to start Inner Sanctum.
Unable to ignore the overwhelming guilt any longer, she picked up the pen lying on Sally’s desk and started filling out forms.
‘If I can do anything else apart from this, Sal, you let me know.’
‘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.