Chapter Two

 

 

 

That feeling, delicious though it was, was short-lived. By the next morning, the fizz had fallen decidedly flat and her stomach was heavy with regret. What an idiot she’d been, acting like a love-struck fan. Rory would be used to women fawning over him, but she should never have let her professionalism slip. Admittedly, she’d been caught by surprise. She’d expected to come back from the wedding to do some light admin work before heading home. Not to find one of the country’s most eligible bachelors making himself at home in her office. The champagne, the wonderful wedding, her flirty high heels had put her in a frivolous mood and she’d been unnecessarily snarky and confrontational with her visitor.

Thinking about it, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d walked away, taking his business with him. Instead, he’d managed to maneuver her into a dinner date, which wasn’t her usual way of conducting matters at all! Clearly a man like Rory was used to being in charge, but if their business relationship had any hope of succeeding, then he might need reminding that, this time, she would be taking the controls.

At least tonight would be a chance to put things straight. To get their relationship back on a proper standing. Rory Campbell needed a wife and if there was one thing Molly was good at, it was bringing people together. She always had been. On the playground, she’d acted as mediator when her friends fell out, as a teenager she’d relished being the go-between, passing on love notes between the boys and girls and when she started work in PR, building up an enviable address book overflowing with contacts, she’d eagerly put like-minded people in touch if she thought they could help one another. A natural people person, it was her knack for picking out potential love matches among her friends that brought her the most satisfaction and when a friend suggested she put her skills to good use by setting up her own marriage bureau, she didn’t need any persuading.

Rory was simply another client. In need of her help.

 

* * * *

 

She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. What was she thinking? Red lipstick! It clashed horribly with her hair. With the back of her hand, she wiped it away and chastised her reflection with a shake of the head. She didn’t usually take so much trouble over her makeup, so why was it bothering her so much today?

And if that was the case, if Rory was just another client, why was she feeling so uncertain and giddily nervous, like one of those love-struck teenagers she’d proved such a help to in the past?

Get a grip, she told herself. With the lipstick gone and the high heels replaced by a sensible pair of black brogues, she headed off to meet Rory. Plain black trousers and a cream-caramel blouse completed the look. She only hoped she looked as inconspicuous as the restaurant, she mused, as the cab pulled up in an exclusive West End street and she gazed up through the window. There was no clue to the restaurant name outside, just heavily bronzed windows with No. 18 etched on the glass in fancy italics. Treacherously, her heart pulsed rapidly in her chest. She took a deep breath as the door swung open and she was greeted by the debonair maître d’.

“Miss Matthews. Welcome. Let me take your jacket. Mr. Campbell is here and waiting for you. I’ll show you the way.”

Molly startled at the prompt attention, wondering whether he’d been lying in wait for her. She stifled a giggle as she followed him, immediately regretting her choice of clothes as she took in the splendor of the restaurant. She felt dowdy and drab against the understated elegance of the oak-paneled room. Individual booths suffused in soft lighting gave the place an intimate and cozy atmosphere. Single orchids adorning each table added an exotic touch.

“Molly, how lovely to see you again.” Rory stood and took hold of her hand, grazing her fingertips with the lightest of kisses. It was a ridiculously over-the-top gesture yet heart-warmingly chivalrous at the same time. Her body responded, desire surging in her chest, as his gaze ran the length of her body. “You look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, her whole body turning to mush.

“Thank you.” She sat in her seat, trying hard to hide her discomfort. She knew Rory was only being polite, but she wished he hadn’t made the comment. She looked all manner of things, neat, presentable or smart, but beautiful wasn’t one of them. Growing up with a fashion model for a mother and an older sister, Natalie, who had inherited the gorgeous gene, she knew exactly where she stood on the beautiful scale.

The maître d’ hovered, presenting a bottle to Rory for his approval.

“I took the liberty of ordering champagne. You mentioned it was your favorite. Mine too.” He grinned conspiratorially. “Besides, who needs an excuse to crack open a bottle?”

Molly cringed. She’d obviously been far too indiscreet the other day. So much for her sticking to the orange juices tonight.

“Lovely,” she said, watching helplessly as the bubbles filled her glass, before instinctively reaching out and taking a sip just to calm her nerves. Keeping company with a screen heartthrob twice in the space of a couple of days was playing havoc with her peace of mind.

She’d interviewed dozens of eligible men in the course of her work, all handsome, intelligent and charismatic, but not once had she allowed herself a spark of attraction to any of them. Not once had her legs been reduced to a wobbly mess as hers were now moving restlessly beneath the table. Not once had she found it so difficult to construct a simple coherent sentence in a man’s presence. Yet tonight, with Rory looking more gorgeous than ever in chinos and blue chambray shirt that offset the dark hue of his eyes perfectly, she was struggling with all of those things and more.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Rory surveyed the menu. “The rack of lamb is excellent, as is the steak Marsala. But everything is reliably good, so go for whatever you fancy.”

Molly tried hard to ignore the sensation that this was feeling more like a date with each passing moment.

Rory leaned forward in his chair. His commanding physical presence gave him an authority that made him seem completely in control, as though this was his natural home, just as he had done when he’d sat in her office. Self-confidence and assurance oozed from his every pore.

Her gaze settled on his long fingers as they caressed the menus. Now he mentioned it, there was a definite stirring of hunger in her stomach.

“In that case, I’ll go for the rack of lamb.” She snapped the menu shut firmly, eager to reclaim an element of control. “So, I wondered if you had anything you needed to ask me following our first meeting? Anything you weren’t sure about.”

A flicker of humor washed over his features.

“Oh, there’s plenty I’d like to ask. I mean, you know everything about me, Molly, but what do I know about you? Nothing. Maybe you should fill in the same forms for me to have a look at?”

“Well, to be honest with you, that’s not why we’re here.” She ignored the flush of heat spreading through her bones. “We’re here to find you a partner. I’m assuming you do still want that, don’t you?”

“Of course.” He had a way of looking at her, gently appraising her, that made her squirm in her seat. Every inch of her body tingled in a heightened anticipation that was both disturbing and delightful.

“Good. Well, there were a couple of things I wanted to ask about that came up when I reviewed your forms, if that’s all right?” She bent down, taking a steadying breath before rifling through her handbag and pulling out a sheaf of papers. She turned the pages over until she reached the relevant one. “In particular, the section here about previous relationships, I noticed you’ve scored through all the boxes?”

“Yes.” A smile flirted on his lips.

“Obviously if you prefer not to share that sort of information, then I respect that decision, but I do find it helpful to know a little about people’s past relationships as it gives me some idea of any particular character traits I might need to avoid in any future matches.” She lifted her voice, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “If someone’s been with a workaholic and that relationship failed because of the problems around that issue, then I’d try not to recreate that situation in any potential match.”

“Yes, I can see how that might be a problem.”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? Or was he purposefully hiding something beneath that smooth and charming exterior? The waiter arrived with the main courses and Molly was able to deflect her attention from Rory. Their every exchange was filled with an intensity that ruffled her composure, leaving her feeling as though she were playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse, with her as the poor hunted victim about to run into a waiting trap.

She took another sip of champagne, its immediate effect rippling along the length of her skin. Was it the sophisticated surroundings or the company she found so distracting? Focus, she reprimanded herself. Mind on job.

“So, about your previous relationships, is there anything I should bear in mind when organizing potential matches for you?”

His mouth twisted in concentration then he gave a resigned shrug.

“Nope. There’s nothing much to report, I’m afraid.”

She snorted, surprising herself and Rory even more judging by his bemused look. But honestly, did she really look that stupid?

“It’s true. Most of my relationships have been casual affairs.”

“I see.” She ran a finger along a groove in the table. “But between the casual affairs, there must have been something more serious, some long-term relationships?”

He shifted in his chair, his gaze wandering around the restaurant. He topped off her glass, but she noticed he was only sipping from his own. Was he trying to get her drunk?

“Not really. There was something when I was a kid. A teenage thing that fizzled out. That would have been my longest relationship, but since then…” He raised his eyebrows, his gaze challenging her to probe further.

Molly did a mental checklist of all the women she’d known him to have gone out with. Quickly she was into double figures and way, way beyond. The kiss-and-tells would make a tasty volume on their own.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Yes, I’ve been linked to a lot of women, but honestly none of them got far beyond the starting post. That’s why the press have such a field day. Another woman, another story. That’s all it is to them.”

“Oh.” She paused, dissembling the information. She rested her forearms on the table and looked deep into his eyes, searching for answers, but there were none. The trouble with meeting your idol was that you thought you already knew everything there was to know about him, but Molly was beginning to realize there was so much more to Rory. Charismatic, funny and charming on the surface, that was undeniable, but what secrets hid beneath that highly polished exterior? Everybody has someone special in their past. Did Rory really expect her to believe that he’d never been in love, that his past was littered only with a trail of good time girls whose names he could barely remember? That there wasn’t someone special who’d touched him deep inside and left a lasting impression? He was bound to have a history of some sort. Something or someone that had shaped him into the person he’d become.

She had to ask.

“And why is that, do you think?” She clasped her fingers together, tilting her head to one side. “Why have you had trouble making long-lasting relationships?”

He stopped eating, his knife and fork poised over his plate in mid-flow. His blue eyes, darker now, locked on to hers, his expression unfathomable.

“I didn’t realize a full-on therapy session was part of the service.” He put down his cutlery, his gaze upon her face unwavering. “You want me to be honest with you?” He went on, not waiting for a reply. “I’ve never really felt comfortable around women. I was an only child who went to an all boys’ school. I wasn’t used to hanging around with girls. Apart from Emma, my next-door neighbor, but she didn’t count. She was a proper tomboy. My mum wasn’t around much. If I’m being truthful, women are still a bit of a mystery to me.”

His honesty touched her, but she also detected an irritation tempering his words, an icy chill wafting across the table. Could it be true that one of the country’s most desired celebrities, a pinup for a huge swathe of the female population, really had no idea when it came to women? If that was the case then he was doing a very good job at hiding the fact. He was a relentless flirt, that much was obvious. The type of man who could charm the leaves off the trees, but maybe the whole thing was an elaborate act. Wasn’t that his job, after all? Either way, Molly had her work cut out. The woman to make Rory change his ways would have to be special.

And beautiful obviously.

Someone independent and strong to cope with living life under the glare of the spotlight.

Someone kind and nice, as Rory had instructed her.

Someone who liked animals. Rory had a dog.

Someone with brown eyes. Preferably.

Someone special enough to break through that highly polished veneer.

Molly ran through the women currently on her books and came up with…a big fat zero. But even if she managed to come up with anyone to tick all those boxes, she wasn’t convinced, with Rory’s track record, that it would be enough to keep him wholly satisfied. “No, sorry, therapy isn’t part of the service, but it does help me knowing a little bit about your background. Thanks for sharing that.” She let out a low chuckle, shaking her head.

“What is it?” Rory’s eyes flashed with interest.

“I was just thinking I could extend my services to include counseling services. My degree is in psychology. Probably explains my natural curiosity.”

“Ah, so you do have all the answers then.” He had a lazy smile that transformed his face from something gorgeous into something ridiculously gorgeous. A warm feeling swarmed in Molly’s stomach. “So I guess you have all this work-life balance stuff mapped out then?”

She laughed away a pang of self-consciousness. Now who was guilty of projecting a false impression?

“It’s always easier to put other people’s lives to rights, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea.” He lifted his palms to the air, giving a wry shrug. “In my job I get to live out other people’s lives, pretend to be someone I’m not. It’s not a bad way to earn a living, but to be honest with you, I’m not really a people person.”

“Aren’t you?” She tilted her head to one side, looking at him with surprise. From what she’d gleaned, clubbing and partying seemed to be his favorite pastime.

“No, away from the cameras, I’m a very private person. It’s true!” he added quickly, seeing her doubtful expression. “But you, you’re a natural people person, I can see that. And doing something that makes a real difference to people’s lives. That’s pretty impressive. Finding that special person for someone, giving them a shot at their happy ever after, it must give you a huge feeling of satisfaction when it all comes right in the end.”

“It does.” She felt a small surge of pride. She’d had a ninety-eight percent success rate so far in her matchmaking and she only intended to improve on that figure. Finding Rory a partner would be a challenge, but one she was more than capable of handling. “I’m very lucky to be able to do what I do.”

Rory nodded, his gaze wandering around her face.

“And what about Mr. Matthews, did you meet him through your work?”

It was a low, underarm ball, slipped in casually, totally destroying that moment of pride she’d been wallowing in.

“There isn’t a Mr. Matthews. Not at the moment. I’m far too busy with my work and…enjoying myself. That sort of thing.”

Which wasn’t strictly true as Molly’s social life was close to nonexistent.

“I don’t have the time for a boyfriend,” she added, more for her own benefit than for Rory’s. “All my emotional energy is invested in finding my clients their significant other.” Her voice rang out unnaturally brightly. She winced and took another sip of champagne, then another one, before deciding for good measure to finish off the glass. No sooner had her glass touched the tablecloth, than Rory refilled it for her.

Stop wittering and stop drinking, she chided herself some more.

Even to her own ears, it sounded ridiculous that someone who was purporting to be an expert on the subject of marriage couldn’t even find herself a boyfriend. Humiliation ran the length of her body.

Amusement flickered in Rory’s eyes.

“Really? Now it’s your turn to surprise me. Maybe I should fix you up with one of my contacts. I know a lot of eligible men in the showbiz world. Do you like creative types?”

“That’s not why we’re here, is it? We’re here…”

Molly was just about to explain exactly why they were here, in case Rory needed any reminding, and to get the conversation back to what they should be discussing, when a beautifully manicured hand landed on their table. Molly’s gaze settled on the cherry-red talons and then followed the long limb up to see the toned body encased in a black wrap dress. It was only a rear view as the owner of the body had planted herself very firmly between Molly’s eyeline and Rory.

A heavily exotic scent of spicy woody tones reached her nose, making her vaguely nauseated.

The woman leaned over the table, extending a pert bottom, and spoke in a breathy whisper that sounded sexy even to Molly’s ears.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Rory, but I just had to come and say hello. I don’t know if you remember but we worked together on that photo shoot in the South of France a couple of years ago. For Location magazine?”

“Of course, it’s Laura, isn’t it?”

“Lucy.” The woman smiled, unfazed by the snub. She swooped over, going in for the much-practiced double-sided kiss, completely oblivious to Molly’s presence. “It’s wonderful to see you, Rory. How’s it going?”

Molly sighed inwardly, feeling like a spare part. A feeling she was familiar with. Keeping company with her sister and her mother, she was used to being overlooked, of seeing the powerful effect being beautiful had on the male population, but never experiencing it first-hand. This woman would know all about that kind of attention.

Definitely a model, reckoned Molly. Beautiful certainly, independent she guessed. Wouldn’t she make the ideal partner for Rory? Already she ticked some of those boxes. Although, from her current viewpoint, it was difficult for Molly to check the color of her eyes and it certainly wasn’t the time to ask whether or not she was a dog lover. Looking at her and the expensive fabric draped around her body, she doubted it. But, if the two of them could just get together here and now, it would save a whole heap of time and trouble, she thought ungraciously.

“Excuse me, while I pop to the loo,” Molly mouthed to Rory, leaning pointedly from round the back of Lucy.

She still wasn’t sure if Rory was really genuine in his desire to use her services or whether there was some ulterior motive for his sudden uncharacteristic need to find a wife, but she had a feeling she was an unwitting pawn in some game for which she didn’t have the rules. She’d had her doubts about this whole thing ever since Rory turned up in her office uninvited. And now this woman butting in and interrupting what was supposed to be a business meeting had only increased her doubts. And annoyance. Was Rory simply wasting her time?

In the cloakroom, she confronted her image in the mirror and stuck out her tongue. Maybe she should have worn the red lipstick and painted her nails as well. A sharp dress in understated black, like the one Lucy was wearing, would have been much more appropriate too. Molly sighed, marveling at her ability to get things quite so wrong. No wonder Lucy had ignored her. She probably hadn’t even noticed her sitting there, she’d done such a great job of blending into the background. Still, that wasn’t the issue now. Rory wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in what she was wearing. All she really needed to know was whether or not he was serious about finding a wife. She took a deep breath, giving her reflection a stern talking to and determined to find out the answer.

 

Rory could have cursed that silly woman for turning up like that, just as he was beginning to make some progress with Molly. Perhaps progress was putting it too strongly, but there had been definite signs of a thawing from across the table. She’d been prickly and defensive and uptight, which, for some reason he wasn’t quite sure of, he found incredibly endearing. Not to mention sexy. It had him wondering what it might be like to loosen some of those buttons. When she smiled, the bubbly personality that she was doing a good job of keeping a lid on fizzed to the surface.

He chuckled. She clearly hated him, despised his way of life and wished he had never walked into her office, but that didn’t matter. He was pretty certain he could win her over. Even if only for the length of time it might take to find him the wife everyone seemed to think he was in such desperate need of. She’d admitted herself that he was the city’s most eligible bachelor, so it would be in her professional interest to find him a bride. Or potential bride at least.

Part of him still couldn’t imagine actually going through with any marriage. The very thought made his skin spike cold with fear. To make such a profound commitment to one person for the rest of his life was something he found hard to reconcile in his mind. From what he’d seen, marriage only brought tears and aggravation and heartache. Did he need to put himself through all of that? All for the sake of what? His career. But what about his own inner happiness?

No one wanted to spend their life alone and a wife and a family held a certain appeal, offering a firm foundation and a level of security from which he could navigate his career. Only he had no rosy recollections of family life. His mum and dad had practically destroyed each other with their continual accusations and fights and recriminations, all in the name of love, so much so that he’d always felt like an afterthought.

Doing it this way he could have a marriage with all the practical advantages it would bring without any of the heartache. A marriage based on a shared vision. If it was someone who was easy on the eye too, then that would be an added bonus. But falling in love, losing his heart to a woman, someone who could rip the soul out of his body, he simply wasn’t interested.

If Molly could help him find the woman to fill the role, then this whole excruciating process would be worth it.

He searched her out as she made her way back to the table. Petite and curvy, she had a naturalness about her that was incredibly attractive. She walked with a purposefulness that suggested she meant business, but at the same time, her warmth and honesty shone through. Just looking at her made him smile. She didn’t work the room. She didn’t check out her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes didn’t scan the entire clientele to see the effect she was having on the other guests. She had no idea that right now he was watching her every move and finding it compelling. And to think she was available too.

He stood to greet her as she returned.

“Has your friend gone?” she asked, sitting down, looking around her.

“Yes, sorry about that. I would have introduced you but—”

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, I think we’re probably done here, aren’t we? I have everything I need now to put together some initial proposals for you. And to start the fun part of the process, actually making some dates.”

“Yeah, great!” He wished he could match her enthusiasm. “Although from my point of view, it’s been pretty fun already.” He smiled, watching her blush. Something she did frequently. A vulnerability at odds with the cool, professional exterior. “But first things first. You cannot leave here without having a pudding. Trust me. They’re amazing.”

They fell silent as they examined the menus. If he was so committed to the idea of finding himself a wife, why did the thought of going out on dates fill him with dread? He was used to wining and dining women. Taking them to bed. Going through the motions. But on his terms. Walking away as soon as things got sticky.

Funnily enough, tonight was the first time in a long while that he’d actually enjoyed himself with a woman. Probably knowing it wasn’t a date, he hadn’t needed to try too hard. And he’d even found himself relaxing, letting down his guard. It was almost unheard of. But more than that, there was something about Molly that intrigued him, that left him wanting to find out all he could about her, to spend more time in her company.

“Good choice.” He watched while the waiter delivered a creamy panacotta concoction to Molly, smiling as she tucked in greedily, licking each spoonful clean with gusto. A familiar urge of desire stirred in his stomach. Most women he dated toyed with their food and wouldn’t even dream of looking at the dessert menu. Molly’s unabashed appetite was a revelation. And damn right sexy too.

“Would you like some of mine?”

“No thanks.” Her refusal was unconvincing as he saw her eyes flitter with longing over the heaped spoonful of chocolate mousse he held in his fingers.

“Go on.” He leaned across, lifting the spoon to her lips, his gaze fixed hard upon hers. Her mouth parted, accepting his offering, and he watched transfixed as her tongue deftly swept over her lips, sending a sharp jolt of heat through his body.

“Mmm, delicious,” she murmured.

His thoughts exactly.

The waiter slipped the bill on to the edge of the table and Rory laid his hand on it.

“Absolutely not.” Molly reached across, their hands touching fleetingly as she staked her claim. “Therapy may not be part of my service, but this definitely is.”

“I’ve never allowed a woman to buy me dinner before. And I’m not about to start now. It was my idea. My treat.” He smoothly handed his payment card over to the waiter.

“Well, thank you very much, Rory. It’s been a lovely evening.”

The maître d’ appeared with their jackets and they stood to leave.

“Oh, I don’t know if I mentioned it, Molly, but there is something of a time issue on this project. In two months I will be attending the premiere of my new film. Ideally, I’d like my new fiancée to come with me.”

She turned sharply to look at him, her brown eyes blazing with accusation.

“Good evening, Mr. Campbell. Ms. Matthews.” The maître d’ ushered them out through the doorway.

Definitely, thought Rory, deflecting her stony expression with a smile. It had to be brown eyes all the way.