make it into a reality television show, Gail had had a niggling doubt in the back of her mind that this wasn’t going to work out. But she’d forked out a lot of money to the matchmakers, and she really wanted to find a man to share her life with.
Willow had thought the show would be intriguing because a lot of successful men and women were finding it harder to meet someone. Willow said that with the 24/7 workday, it was inevitable that no one would have time for courtship.
Gail agreed, which was why she’d gone to a matchmaker. But she’d never expected a man like Russell Holloway to need one. He could snap his fingers and have any girl he wanted at his door.
Russell wasn’t the man for her. Of course, he was sexy as hell … but she wasn’t looking for sexy. She was looking for the guy in the Ralph Lauren ad, she thought, the one with perfectly styled hair, wearing those polo shirts and standing in front of a mansion in the Hamptons. She wanted someone who could look the part and give her the fantasy of the perfect life that she’d always craved.
She wanted to relax and enjoy her time with Russell, but she was under the gun, so to speak. Her biological clock wasn’t just ticking, it was winding down faster than most of her peers’. She had to see if Russell was going to be the right man for her. Could he be? Now she was beginning to wonder.
She was seated at a private table, waiting for him. He’d had to take a call before they started shooting. Gail had pulled out her iPhone, but really she’d told her assistant, J.J., to handle all emergencies tonight. She knew she’d never have a chance at making this a success if she was distracted with work…. Her mind began to wander.
Was there more to Russell than met the eye? She knew there had to be, but thanks to years in publicity, she knew that usually what was beneath a shiny surface was less than appealing.
Russell rejoined her, and there was a lot of movement around them as sound techs and makeup people made them both camera ready.
“If my mates saw me with this makeup on, they’d never let me live it down,” he said.
She had to smile. “It’s just part of the package for being on TV, part of the glam life all celebs have to endure.”
“Never thought I’d be part of any ‘glam life,’” he said.
“Why not? You seem very at home in the jet set.” Just this morning, she’d seen a picture of him on a yacht with two Spanish royals on one of the gossip sites she monitored for her clients.
“It’s not really my thing,” he said. “I like to travel and I ski and yacht and go to club openings, but a lot of that is for my business. To keep it in the public eye.”
“Yet you get a lot of newspaper and internet coverage,” she said. She didn’t follow him, so she had no idea when the intense media scrutiny had started, but she’d be willing to bet it had been there since he’d become successful in the hotel world. He had looks that no woman would resist.
“I do, but I really don’t court that,” he said.
Their food was delivered, and Gail found herself unable to stop looking at Russell. She had met so many people who’d needed to have their images cleaned up that she freely admitted she often saw the worst in someone. But she wanted to give Russell a chance, not simply to be fair to him, but also for her own sake. She’d invested a hell of a lot more than money in these dates; she’d kind of thought of them as her last chance.
“You’re staring at me,” he said.
“You are a very pretty-looking man,” she said, being glib because that was easy when she didn’t want to be honest.
“Pretty … isn’t that a word for girls?” he asked.
“No. Boys can be very pretty.” And he was, with that classic jawline and thick brownish-blond hair. But he was also a bit on the rugged side, thanks to that square jaw and a small scar on the bottom of his face. His face had character, but she wasn’t sure if it was good. He had the build of a boxer and carried himself like a man who’d lived life—a very upper-crust one, but still, there was more to him than money.
“Well,” he said, lifting one eyebrow sardonically, “thanks, I guess.”
She smiled at him. He was an easy man to talk to, and though she was giving him the fifth degree in the hope of catching him out in a lie, she liked him. “I keep looking for some indicator that you are being honest with me.”
“And?” he asked.
“I’m simply not sure yet. But I think it’s making me overanalyze your every action,” she admitted. But if she was honest, she did that with everyone. She’d always spent a lot of time thinking about why people did things. It didn’t bring her any closer to really understanding them, but she tried.
“Then I’m not doing my job,” he said. He leaned in, and she could smell that one-of-a-kind, spicy aftershave of his. “Am I boring you?”
“No, you are not boring me at all. Tell me why you are here,” she said. It was a question she’d originally planned on asking her date before she knew it was Russell. In fact, she now made the snap decision to treat him the way she would have treated John Doe if that’s whom she’d been matched with. No need to change just because he was Russell Holloway, international billionaire and playboy.
He leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes. “It’s time to settle down. I set out to make my fortune and a name for myself. I think we can both agree that I’ve done that.”
“I’m not buying that as the entire story. There must be more,” she said.
He laughed and tipped his head to the side, studying her, and she felt a little exposed for a moment, as though he was trying to see past the makeup and the facade to the real woman underneath. “The truth is that I like the party lifestyle, but it has lost its charm. I want to have a partner I can share all my life with, not just a couple of days.”
She wanted to believe him. Who wouldn’t? It was every young girl’s dream to have a playboy like him say he wanted to settle down, and to be the lucky one he chose. “I can understand that, but marriage?”
“Why do I seem so debauched to you?” he asked.
“You don’t,” she said, realizing she was being harder on him than she would have been on any other man. And she knew it was because she was mad. Mad that she’d been matched to this man and now had to make the best of the situation.
“I’m sorry. Tell me about your family,” she said.
“I had a traditional upbringing, and though my parents are gone, I know they wanted me to get married and have kids someday.”
He had a pensive look on his face, and he turned away from her for a moment. She felt bad about the way she’d been questioning him. He obviously had a reason for going to the matchmaking service just as she had, and she should respect that.
She cleared her throat, and he turned his attention back to her. “You have kids, right?”
“No,” he said. “There have been paternity suits that I have settled out of court, but I have no kids.”
“Why not just make a family of those blended children?” she asked. What did he mean by settling paternity suits but not having any kids? She wanted to know more but this first date wasn’t the time to ask questions.
“It’s not feasible, since they aren’t mine,” he said.
“What do—”
“Enough questions—it’s my turn. Why did you go to a matchmaker?” he asked, turning that direct, silver gaze of his on her. Suddenly she wanted to go back to being anonymous. She wanted to be the one in control, and she wasn’t the least bit interested in sharing that control with him.
She fidgeted a little in her chair. She didn’t want to tell him about herself. “The simple answer is that it’s the next step for me. I have a