Harte Strings: The Billionaire Matchmaker, Part Two (4 page)

I set it back down. Again, it was hard
not
to be impressed by all this. And the thoughtfulness, consideration, and obvious seductiveness behind it. Even the shampoo was the high-end brand I preferred.

My mind raced—just what kind of woman would look past all this and see the man behind it? And want him
only
for him, even if none of the rest of this came along for the ride?

I had the sinking feeling that that kind of woman wouldn’t want this lifestyle if it were handed to her. She was going to be a hard woman to find. Especially given I wasn’t sure I
wanted
to find her.

I toured the rest of the suite and marveled at the view. Besides the view of the mountains and forest, I had an excellent view of the patio and pool. At last, I changed into a casual sundress. I had a role to play at dinner. I was relaxing in a chair with my thoughts and a bottle of cold seltzer water from the fridge when Lottie knocked on the door. I invited her in.

She closed the door behind her and took in my room all in a glance, then whistled softly, almost beneath her breath. “Wow.”

“Mmmmm.” I nodded. “This can’t be that much more magnificent than your room?”

She shrugged. “And yet it is. Mine is nice. With a view to the east over the entrance and the south to the forest. But this one!” She rolled her eyes for emphasis. “This is clearly the VIP suite. It must be twice the size of mine.” She grinned. “The perks of being the boss.”

I laughed. “I guess so.”

Maybe Lazer was pampering me. Or maybe he was just showing off.

Lottie spotted the robe on the bench and walked over, lightly fingering it. “When did you get this?”

“Oh, it’s not mine.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It came with the room. You don’t have one?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“Ashley, really?” She used her don’t-play-coy-with-me tone. As if I was just being naïve. “I’m sure it’s yours now. That tiny thing wouldn’t fit most of us.”

I bit my lip and sighed, my heart pounding.
Showering me with gifts, Lazer? Why?

I shrugged. “I assumed everyone got one.”

She inspected the robe more closely. “A robe with a gold clasp? I don’t think so.” She paused and scrutinized me. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

I shrugged again and played innocent. “What would I have to tell you?”

She sighed. “There was a lesser robe in my room. Hanging in the closet. A nice, thick terrycloth robe. One size fits all. Clearly expensive. Like the upscale hotels provide for guests. Nothing
this
nice.” She shot me a skeptical look. “You sure there’s nothing?”

“Lazer’s making a point, is all,” I said. “That he knows how to spoil women. He’s our most high-profile client only under duress. He likes to believe he’s a Casanova of the highest order. He thinks he doesn’t need our help. Don’t let him fool you by this show. He needs us more than he knows.”

The suspicion left Lottie’s face. I’d already told her the reason Lazer agreed to be our client. Including his reluctance to find a wife. She grinned like a conspirator. “
Men
.”

We laughed together at Lazer’s folly.

“Who lives like this?” Lottie looked around the room again and made such a whimsical expression that we both cracked up.

“Lazer, apparently. But only on weekends.” I took a deep breath. “Who are we going to match him with, Lottie? Who deserves all this?”

“No one deserves all this,” she said automatically. “And I have no idea. You sure can’t throw Miss Communication at him. That’s one almost-client who definitely does
not
deserve anything approaching this kind of luxury. Or Mr. Three Commas.”

She was clearly fiercely protective of Lazer. Which was odd, given his field-playing reputation. Lottie usually maintained professional distance from the clients. She was human, as was I. There were some we liked better than others. Some we barely tolerated. As we had become more successful, we tried to avoid assholes. Perk of success.

She rooted for all of our clients to find true love and happiness. And was as happy as anyone any time one of our matches stuck. But I could only remember a handful of times she’d gone mama bear on me about a client. It was a testimony to Lazer’s charm that he’d won her over so readily.

I glanced at my watch. “Time to go. Lazer’s expecting us.”

We found him working at a table by the pool with his laptop and phone. There was that moment when I pictured myself in this life. Permanently. Lounging by this pool in the summer, working side by side with him.

And then I realized I was as bad as any gold digger. I barely knew Lazer, really. I was letting his wealth impress me. That was what I told myself, anyway. Being swayed by riches seemed more human and less unfaithful to Ruck than being tempted by lust.

Lazer stood and greeted us, offering us each a seat and a drink. “I have everything. Beer. Wine. Mixed drinks. Whatever you like. I make a mean lavender martini.”

Although he’d been drinking a beer.

“A lavender martini? I’ve never had one,” I said, amused, as I took a seat facing the view. “I’m sure your guy friends
love
lavender martinis.”

“Why would I make one for the guys? They can wait on themselves. I reserve my martini-making skills to impress the ladies.” He grinned at Lottie. “The lavender martini is my secret weapon. I paid a top mixologist to develop it for me.” He tapped his forehead. “I committed the recipe to memory and destroyed the original.”

“How very Bond.” I smiled with him. “Did you wipe the mixologist’s memory clear, too?”

“I paid him a king’s ransom and made his sign a nondisclosure. Memory erasure might have been better. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Damn. I liked him.

“Just for you, because you’re bound by a nondisclosure, too, I’ll let you in on part of the secret.” He grinned. “I infuse them with dried lavender imported from a special supplier in France. The fresh lavender sprigs I use as decoration are grown locally at an herb farm and delivered daily when I need it.” He flashed a flirty smile at Lottie.

“Then by all means, I’m game. I can hardly wait to taste this beautiful drink,” I said as calmly as possible, trying to sound tolerant of his folly. Appraising his efforts as a master does a student’s.

Whether he liked it or not, I was taking his measure, doing my matchmaking evaluation on him at every turn. He was good at casual banter. And making a woman, or women, feel special. Letting them know the lengths he’d gone to for them without bragging. It was an art. And he excelled at it.

While it was true I’d never had a client as suave as he was—daters of his caliber usually didn’t need my services—I was certain there were areas he could improve on. I just had to find them.

Lottie returned his smile. “French lavender. How could I resist?”

There was a fully stocked bar near the pool. Lazer obviously knew his way around it. We watched as he made the drinks, making a great show of measuring and shaking.

Really, he was fun to watch, a total ham and showman. And he had a great ass that matched his broad shoulders as well. He dipped the rims of the martini glasses in lavender sugar, added a spoonful of round French lavender candies to the drink, and poured the drinks with flair as he strained out the dried lavender. He stuck a fragrant sprig of fresh lavender, and something else in, as a final touch. He put the eye-pleasing drinks on a tray and sauntered back to us with the air of a waiter. He set a small glass plate with a martini, a small napkin, and a beautiful chocolate in front of each of us.

“They’re subtle,” he said as I lifted my glass. “Don’t let that fool you. They pack a punch.”

I studied my drink. The something else turned out to be a purple pansy that floated on top. “They’re beautiful. A real work of art. Too pretty for such a simple name. You need something more seductive.”

“I’ll get my naming firm working on that right away.”

I took a sip.
Heaven
. “This is ambrosia! You
do
know how to make a drink. Your mixologist taught you well. The question is—are you a one-drink wonder?”

He laughed. “Hardly. I went to bartending school.” He pointed to the square of chocolate on my plate. “Try a square of rose and cardamom chocolate with it. It’s the perfect pairing. All the floral flavors of an English garden together.”

The squares of chocolate were just as beautiful as the drinks—covered with candied cardamom and dried sugared rose petals pressed into decadent milk chocolate.

“Is this a garden party, then?” I looked around.

His eyes twinkled. “If you want it to be. I heard women like flowers and chocolate.”

“Do we?” I teased.

Lottie had gone suddenly quiet. She watched us closely. We were clearly flirting.

Fortunately, her phone rang. She frowned as if she’d been interrupted in the middle of a good show, grabbed it, and looked at the screen. “Eh. My sister! She always calls at the least convenient times. She’ll want to talk.”

She shot us an apologetic look and took the call and her drink back into the lodge.

“Did you plan that, too?” I asked, referring to Lottie’s departure.

“You give me too much credit.”

I shook my head and sighed happily, looking down the length of the pool as I sipped my drink. “The pool looks like it disappears into the horizon. Like you could swim off the edge into the sky and mountains.”

He nodded. “It’s a trick of the eye and design.”

“I like it. It’s like you can see forever from here,” I said.

He gave me a quick, intense look.

“What?”

“That’s how I feel, too,” he said.

“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked, surprised by his surprise.

“No,” he said. “You’d be surprised. You’re the first to make that comment.”

I frowned slightly, puzzled. It seemed like the obvious thought. “Clearly, you don’t hang with deep enough people.”

He laughed. “Good point. You’re probably right.”

“Tell me about this place,” I said. “Do you entertain here often? Just from the brief glimpse I got of it, it looks like its set up for events like this one.”

He nodded. “I like to entertain. I hold half a dozen meetings and corporate retreats a year here, sometimes more. That way I can write it off.”

“It’s impressive,” I said.

“Thank you. It’s meant to be.” He looked endearingly sheepish. “Sorry. That sounded arrogant. I meant to say that it’s expected of people of my social status to show off our wealth. It gives other businesspeople confidence in our abilities. Our equivalent of a résumé. I’ve held several meetings of my billionaires’ club, EIEIO, here as well. Those people are used to being pampered.”

“A billionaires’ club? Like the Bohemian Grove?” As he’d suggested, I took a square of chocolate and nibbled at it. The flavors of cardamom and rose combined pleasantly. I resisted rolling my eyes in delight. “Do you sit around and plot the one-world government? And how to manipulate all the world markets and make yourselves not just billionaires, but gazillionaires?”

He laughed. “Hardly. And neither do the guys at the Bohemian Grove, from what I hear. It’s mostly a big beer party. A lot of tall tales and pissing.”

I shook my head and took another sip of my drink. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should. I have it on good authority from several members.”

“Are you bragging?” I pointed my chocolate at him. “This is delicious. Where’s it from?”

“Portland. Originally. I buy it locally at the Blackberry Bakery.”

“The Blackberry Bakery?” I furrowed my brow. The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t immediately place it. “Why do I know that name? It sounds familiar.”

Lazer grinned at me as he took a swig of his beer. “It’s been in the news this year. Riggins, the Duke of Witham, met Haley, his duchess, there. She was working at the bakery when they met and fell in love. That’s the public version of their story, anyway.”

“That’s it!” I said. “I keep forgetting you know the duke and duchess. Weren’t they expecting a baby? Has it been born yet?”

He sighed. “They are. And the little heir is due, funnily enough, over Labor Day Weekend.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I remember now. They had a big gender-reveal party earlier this year. It’s a boy, of course. Are they having the baby here or in England?”

“England.” Lazer sighed. “Riggins has been working from his castle there for the last month. Justin, the co-owner of Flashionista, has been going a little crazy running things by himself. Justin is a new father, too, and not getting much sleep. His baby girl was born in March. Soon I’ll be surrounded by babies.” Lazer shuddered, but his sly look was teasing.

“Is that so bad?” I realized too late I was almost holding my breath. I wanted children,
badly
. I hadn’t realized how much until my heart began coming to life again and the old dream of a family returned with it. Ruck and I had been planning to have them. We hadn’t managed to get pregnant. And then he was killed in action.

“It’s no secret I’m not looking to be a dad anytime soon.” Lazer could make even such a disappointing statement sound fun. He shook his head. “It’s bad enough I’m going to be a godfather.”

I looked at him, surprised. “To who?”

“Who would choose me, you mean? And trust me with their kid?” He laughed, not taking my surprise badly at all. “To Riggins’ little earl and heir. Should the little guy ever decide to enter the world.”

“You? Godfather to an earl and future duke?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” His eyes narrowed. “Riggins and I haven’t
always
gotten along. That’s true. Long story there. But I helped him out when he was trying to choose his duchess. He wants someone who knows the business world and can mentor and advise the little earl if anything should happen to him. I qualify.

“I think Justin would be perfect for the role, and told Riggins so when he asked me to be godfather. My way of trying to wiggle out of it.”

“And you weren’t successful in convincing him, obviously.” I watched his reaction.

“Obviously not. Riggins wouldn’t hear of it, even though Jus is his business partner and best equipped to guide the little earl in running their joint business. Riggins argued that Justin is young and has his own family now.”