Chapter One
Michaela Killian was the most beautiful woman Troy Harrington had ever seen. She was a tall woman, and her high heels—he’d glanced down long enough when he first entered to take the measure of those sexy spiked heels—turned her into a statuesque model, though she didn’t have the bone-thin structure. Not with those luscious breasts and delectable curves. Her midnight-black hair was twisted into an elegant knot on the top of her head, and his whole being ached to pull out the pins and see it fall over her shoulders in a silky wave. The darkness of her hair added depth and intensity to her lush green eyes, giving her a striking look that would turn any man’s head.
She had definitely turned his, almost making him forget his mission: to hire a matchmaker. Not that she was like any matchmaker he could have imagined. She looked not just like a million bucks, but a billion bucks. Which was probably how she got the title of the billionaire matchmaker rather than the fact that she was a matchmaker for billionaires.
His image of a matchmaker was someone much older, with cat’s-eye glasses hanging on a chain around her neck and a bouffant hairdo that would have been all the rage when she was young. But Michaela Killian looked to be only a couple of years younger than his thirty-five.
Troy certainly hadn’t expected her to steal the breath right out of his chest.
When he finally found his voice, it came out as a ridiculous croak. And his question had nothing to do with his matchmaking mission. “Do you get coffee at Santa Cruz Nine?”
His regular haunt sat on the corner of Santa Cruz Avenue and Highway 9 in Los Gatos, a quaint town next to San Jose. He’d purchased his home in the Los Gatos hills six months ago. The proximity to his San Jose office made sense, along with the fact that the community was nestled against the Santa Cruz Mountains, which were great for hiking and biking.
He knew her answer even before she tipped her head slightly and said, “Yes, I do frequent Santa Cruz Nine.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you there.” He sounded so suave—not.
His head felt foggy with her delicious scent, and his tongue seemed stuck to the roof of his mouth. And he was not a man who couldn’t find his words. Except with her. There was something about seeing her in this setting, smelling her instead of the scent of brewing coffee, hearing her velvet voice instead of the sound of grinding coffee beans.
She smiled politely. “Oh.”
So he hadn’t made any impression on her. None. But then, he usually came to the coffee shop straight after his run, with sweat plastering his dark hair to his head. And who the hell knew how he smelled?
Then again, every time he’d seen her, she’d been on her phone, talking, checking email, maybe even going over her task list for the day.
He heard that for the excuse it was; he was just trying to shore himself up after learning she hadn’t noticed him.
Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “Yeah, I go there a lot. I live up in the hills.” Wow, great conversationalist here.
She didn’t miss a beat. “I have a townhouse nearby. The coffee shop is convenient on the way to my office. And the hills are out of my price range.”
He wasn’t sure if that was a smackdown. But even if she couldn’t afford the hills, buying a townhouse in Los Gatos, a rather expensive bedroom community, was no mean feat.
Her business must be doing well, her office elegantly furnished with teak furniture, comfortable chairs and sofa, colorful prints of faraway destinations, a minimalist desk beside which she stood, and a state-of-the-art computer ready for her touch. Her third-floor window offered an enchanting view of a creek below, its babbling waters glittering in the early June light, exuding serenity and perhaps promising she would make all her clients’ dreams come true.
She was not only doing well for herself, she was smart. Amid the colorful travel posters hung her Stanford diploma, the words with distinction clear to him, which meant she’d graduated at the top of her class.
Beautiful, accomplished, and highly intelligent. What more could a guy ask for in a matchmaker?
“And how may I help you this morning, Mr. Harrington?” she asked in that sweet but sexy voice that made him forget how to speak. Until she tapped a pencil on the desktop with a hint of impatience.
Oh yeah. Now he remembered why he was here. His mission.
Finding out his mystery woman from the coffee shop was his matchmaker had thrown him, but he pulled himself back on track. “My friend Dirk Pendergast gave me your name.” Troy had done his Olympic training with Dirk, who was now blissfully wed, thanks to her.
Finally, Michaela Killian smiled. It was like the sun, the moon, and the stars—or a good dentist—had all come together to create that exquisite smile. “I’m so glad I was able to help him and his lovely bride.”
Troy snorted. “Help him? You changed his life. They’re still in the honeymoon phase, and it’s been six months. He didn’t get back to me for a couple of weeks after I texted him, or I would have called you sooner.” Troy had been off on a round of speaking gigs that held him up. He’d been so busy, in fact, that he hadn’t had a chance to look up Michaela’s track record. Instead, he’d taken Dirk’s word for it.
“Wonderful. I’m so glad to have happy clients.” He noticed the pencil tapping had stopped. “Tell me what kind of woman you’re looking for.” She flourished a hand toward the sofa, inviting him to sit, as she rounded her desk.
Before he took a seat, he was quick to say, “It’s not for me. It’s for my sister. I’d love to see her in love as soon as possible. Happily in love.”
He and his youngest sister Gabby had a bet. After their middle brother Clay had fallen hard for Saskia Oliver, and their older siblings, Ava and Dane, had already caught the love bug, he and Gabby had made a bet about who would be next to fall in love.
It was a cinch that he would win, because he wasn’t about to take that fall. Dating-wise, he had a carefree life. He wasn’t even close to being ready to give that up. But then, Gabby was a hard case, hell-bent on her career, with a slew of cafés all over the country featuring plant-based menus. She managed her own franchise in Carmel-by-the-Sea and also created most of the recipes, though she encouraged her franchisees to experiment and share their own.
That’s why he needed a matchmaker for Gabby. She’d never find a match on her own and needed a little push, or maybe a big push. He’d love to see his sister happy. And he’d love to win the bet too. The loser had to donate a million dollars to a charity of the winner’s choice. Troy already had his picked out.
