Pregnant By The Maverick Millionaire. Joss Wood

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      She wished. The closest she’d come to sex was Kade Webb’s hot kiss six months ago, but sex itself? She thought back. Three or so years?

      She was pathetic.

      After taking another bite of the cookie, Brodie pulled her thoughts from her brief encounter with the CEO of the Mavericks professional ice hockey team and narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You know I only take men as my clients, Jan.”

      “Which is a stupid idea. You are halving your market,” Jan said, her business sense offended. But Brodie’s business model worked; Brodie dealt with men, while her associate Colin only had women clients. They pooled their databases and office resources. As a result, they were doing okay. In the hectic twenty-first century—the age of the internet, icky diseases and idiots—singles wanted help wading through the dating cesspool.

      “Women are too emotional, too picky and too needy. Too much drama,” Brodie told Jan. Again.

      Brodie snapped off another piece of cookie and wrinkled her nose when she realized she’d eaten most of it. She was a sucker for chocolate. And cookies. Thank the Lord she had a fast metabolism. She still ran every day, but never in the morning.

      “The men don’t really want to date me. They just like the attention I pay them. They tend to forget they are paying me to pay attention. And I know far too much about them too soon.”

      An alert on her tablet told her she’d received a new email. Jan pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll let you get back to work. Do you want another cup of coffee?”

      Brodie already had caffeine-filled veins but why should that matter? “Please.”

      She swiped her finger across her tablet and accessed her inbox. She’d received quite a few messages when she’d been dealing with Mr. Suave but only one made her pulse accelerate.

      Your donation to the auction at the Mavericks’ Charity Ball filled the subject line and all the moisture in her mouth disappeared. Jeez, she’d had a brief encounter with Kade months ago, shouldn’t she have forgotten about him by now?

      Unfortunately Kade wasn’t the type of man who was easily forgotten. And, if she had to be truthful, she still missed those early-morning runs when it seemed like they had the park to themselves. She missed the way her heart kicked up when she saw him, missed the way he pushed her to run faster, train harder. She’d enjoyed him, enjoyed that time with him, more than she should have.

      Brodie rubbed her hands over her face and gave herself a mental slap. She was almost thirty, a successful business owner and matchmaker to some of the sharpest, richest, most successful bachelors in the city. She should not be thinking about the sharpest, richest, best-looking bachelor in the city.

      Pathetic squared. Brodie shook her head at her ridiculousness and opened the email.

      Dear Ms. Stewart,

      On behalf of the Chief Executive Officer of the Vancouver Mavericks, Kade Webb, may I extend our heartfelt gratitude for your donation to the Mavericks’ auction to be held on June 19.

      Attached is your invitation to a luncheon my department is hosting for our valued sponsors earlier on the day. You are most welcome to attend the ball and charity auction; the cost and details are attached.

      We look forward to your presence at lunch on the 19 of June. Please see the attached document for the venue and time.

      Yours,

      Wren Bayliss

      Public Relations Director

      Vancouver Mavericks

      Thanks but, no thanks. She wouldn’t be attending. Donating to the charity auction had been Colin’s idea and he could attend the luncheon and ball on their behalf. She wasn’t even sure donating their services to the charity auction would raise any money... What bachelor or bachelorette would admit to wanting to use a matchmaker in a room full of their friends and colleagues? Their business was based on discretion and her clients came to her, mostly, via word of mouth. But Wren, and Colin, had dismissed Brodie’s concerns. They seemed to think sisters, brothers and friends would bid on their siblings’ or friends’ behalf. Besides, the guest could bid silently via cell phone as well, so anonymity, if it was required, would be assured.

      Thanks to the competition of online matchmaking Colin was convinced they needed to cement their position as matchmakers to the elite of Vancouver society and they needed to network more and foster relationships. Being part of the Mavericks’ silent auction was a huge coup and would be excellent direct advertising to their target group. Since marketing and PR was Colin’s forte, she’d told him he could represent them at the luncheon.

      Yes, a part of her reluctance was the fact there was a chance Kade would be at the function. Months might’ve passed but she was still embarrassed down to her two-inch designer heels. She’d acted like a ditzy virgin who said yes but meant no. God! How could she be in the same room with him without wanting to jump him—the man still fueled her sexual fantasies—but also wanting to hide under the table?

      Her computer dinged again and she looked at the new message that popped into her inbox.

      Hey, Brodes,

      I presume you received an invite to attend the sponsor’s lunch hosted by the Mavericks? I can’t attend. Kay and I are seeing a fertility specialist that day. Can you go and do the thing for us both?

      Thanks,

      Col

      Brodie groaned.

      Please let Kade not be there, she prayed.

       Two

      “Whose stupid idea was this?”

      Kade Webb scowled at his two best friends and rolled his shoulders under his suit jacket, wishing he was anywhere but in the crowded, over-perfumed bar area of Taste, one of the best restaurants in Vancouver. He’d spent most of last night reading P&L statements and had spent a long, tedious morning with Josh Logan’s hard-ass agent negotiating a deal to buy the hotshot wing, and all he wanted was to plant himself behind his messy desk and make a dent in his paperwork. He was trying to finalize their—his, Mac’s and Quinn’s—partnership with old man Bayliss, Wren’s grandfather, so the four of them could make a solid counteroffer to buy the Mavericks franchise before Vernon’s widow sold it to Boris Chenko, a Russian billionaire who owned a string of now generic sports franchises.

      Kade didn’t have the time to socialize. To play nice.

      What he really wanted, despite it only being noon, was a cold beer, a long shower and some hot sex. Or, to save time, some long, hot sex in a shower. Since he hadn’t had time to date lately the hot sex would have to be a solo act later—how sad, too bad—but really, he’d give it all up, sex included, for a solid eight hours of sleep.

      He was burning the candle at both ends and somewhere in the middle, as well.

      “Will you please take that scowl off your face?”

      Kade looked down into the face of his newly appointed director of public relations and wondered, for the hundredth СКАЧАТЬ