Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire(4)

"Who are they again?"

Frustration flashed in Wren's blue eyes and Kade held up his hands in  apology. "Wren, I've been dealing with player negotiations and your  grandfather as our new partner, and fending off Myra's demands for us to  make a counteroffer. Sponsors for this ball haven't been high on my  priority list."

"Did you read any of the memos I sent you?"

Kade shrugged. "Sorry, no. But you can tell me now and I'll remember."

He had a phenomenal memory. It was a skill he acquired as a child  hopping from town to town and school to school following the whims of  his artist father. Within a day of arriving in a new place, he'd find a  map and memorize the street names so he'd know exactly where he was at  all times. He'd felt emotionally lost so often that being physically  lost was going a step too far. His memory helped him catch up with  schoolwork and remember the names of teachers and potential friends, so  he could ease his way through another set of new experiences.

Wren ran through the list of the bigger donations and then said, "The  Forde Gallery donated one of your father's paintings, a small watercolor  but pretty."

Jeez, he remembered when his father had to swap paintings for food or  gas or rent money. Even his small paintings now went for ten grand or  more... It was a hell of a donation.

"We have dinners on yachts, holidays, jewelry, the usual bits and pieces  businesses donate. The item that will be the most fun and will get the  crowd buzzing is the matchmaking service..."

"The what?"

"Brodie Stewart and Colin Jones are providing their matchmaking  services. The winners, one girl and one guy, will be matched up and sent  on three dates to find a potential mate. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

Brodie Stewart? His Brodie? The girl who'd kissed like a dream but who'd bailed on him before they got to the bedroom?

"It sounds like hell." Kade managed to utter the response even though  his mind was filled with memories of Brodie, dark hair spilling over her  shoulders as she lay against his chest, bright green eyes languid and  dreamy after one spectacular hot, wet kiss. He dimly recalled her saying  something about her having her own business but why did he think she  was in consulting?                       
       
           



       

"Is she attending this lunch?" Kade asked and hoped Wren, or his friends, didn't hear the note of excitement in his voice.

"You know this Brodie person?" Quinn demanded. And there was the problem  with being friends with someone for so damn long. There was little you  could get past them.

"Not really," Kade replied, sounding bored.

"Let me give you a hint about your boss, Wren," Mac stated, his arm  around Rory's waist. "When he lies he always sounds disinterested,  faraway, detached."

Unfortunately, being in love hadn't affected Mac's observational skills  and he was as sharp as ever. "Shut the hell up, McCaskill, you have no  idea what you are talking about. I met Brodie once, a while ago."

"Why didn't you tell us about her?" Quinn demanded, unsatisfied.

"Do you tell me about the women you meet?" Kade responded.

Quinn thought for a moment before grinning. "Pretty much, yeah. And if I don't tell you, then the press will."

Kade pulled a face. The society pages of their local papers and many  internet sites devoted far too much time speculating about their love  lives. Mac had provided a break for Kade and Quinn as the media devoured  the news that he was settling down with the lovely Rory, but recently  they'd restarted their probing inquiries about the state of his and  Quinn's love lives. Many of the papers hinted, or outright demanded, it  was time the other two "Maverick-teers" followed Mac's example.

Kade felt that he would rather kiss an Amazonian dart frog.

Only Mac and Quinn knew his past, knew about his unconventional  upbringing as the son of a mostly itinerant artist who dragged him from  place to place and town to town on a whim. They understood his need to  feel financially secure and because they worked together, invested  together and always stuck together, the three of them, along with Wren's  grandfather, were in the position to buy their beloved hockey team, the  Vancouver Mavericks.

Yeah, he might be, along with Quinn, a wealthy, eligible and elusive  bachelor, but he had every intention of staying that way. Legalities and  partnership agreements and a million miles of red tape-and his belief  in the loyalty of his friends-had allowed him to commit to his career  with the Mavericks, formerly as a player and now as the CEO and,  hopefully, as a future co-owner. But a personal commitment? Hell no.

He'd learned that hard lesson as a child. As soon as he found someone to  love-a dog, a friend, a teacher, a coach-his father would rip it away  by packing up their lives and moving them along. Emotional involvement  sent Kade backward to his powerless childhood.

He'd hated that feeling then and he loathed it now. His theory was if  you didn't play in a rainstorm, then you wouldn't get hit by lightning.  He made damn sure the women he dated had no expectations, that they  thoroughly understood he was a here-now-gone-tomorrow type of guy. That  they shouldn't expect anything from him.

Despite his up-front attitude, there were always women who thought they  could change his mind so he'd still had to ease himself out of  situations. Sometimes he managed it with charm, sometimes he had to be  blunt, but when he sensed his lovers were becoming emotionally invested,  he backed off. Way, way off.

Brodie Stewart was the only woman who'd ever turned the tables on him,  who'd backed away before he could. Backed away before he'd even gotten  her into bed.

"...she had all the emotional depth of a puddle!"

Kade pulled his attention back to the conversation and caught the tail  end of Rory's comment. She was scowling at Quinn and he looked  unrepentant, being his bad-boy self.

"Honey, I wasn't dating her for her conversational skills," Quinn stated.

Rory shook her head and rested her chin on Mac's shoulder. "One day you  are going to meet someone who you can't resist and I hope she gives you  hell," Rory said, her tone and expression fierce.

"Rorks, unfortunately butt-face here claimed you before I did so I am  destined to be a free spirit." Quinn put his hand on his heart, his eyes  laughing.

Rory, smart girl that she was, didn't fall for Quinn's BS. Instead, she  poked Quinn's stomach. "You will meet her and I will not only laugh  while I watch you run around her like a headless chicken, I will  encourage her to give you as much trouble as possible." She stretched  past Quinn to jab Kade in the stomach. "That goes for you, too, Kade.  The female population of Vancouver has spoiled you two rotten."

"I'm not complaining." Kade smiled, taking a sip of his lime-flavored water.                       
       
           



       

"Me neither," Quinn quickly agreed. He stuck his tongue in his cheek as  he continued to tease Rory. "And I don't think we've been spoiled-we've  been treated as per our elevated status as hockey gods."

"That just shows how moronic some women can be," Rory muttered. She  looked up at Mac and narrowed her eyes. "You're very quiet, McCaskill.  Got anything to say?"

Mac dropped a kiss on her forehead and another on her mouth. "Hell no!  This is your argument with my friends. But, since I am taking you home  and hoping to get lucky, I'll just agree with everything you say."

Quinn made the sound of a cracking whip and Kade rolled his eyes before he said, "Wimp."

"You might wear the trousers but Rory picks them out," Quinn added and  immediately stepped back to lessen the impact of Mac's big fist smacking  his shoulder. "May I point out that before Rory snagged you, you were-"

"No, you absolutely may not." Wren's cool voice interrupted their smack  talk. "Can you three please act like the responsible, smart businessmen  that people-mistakenly I might add-think you are and behave yourselves?  The first sponsor has arrived."

Kade didn't need Wren's nod toward the ballroom to tell him Brodie had  arrived. He'd felt the prickle of anticipation between his shoulder  blades, felt the energy in the room change. He was super aware of her.  As he slowly turned, he felt the world fade away.

She hadn't changed, yet...she had. It had only been six months, but  somehow she was a great deal more attractive than he remembered. Her  dress hugged a toned body and her long black hair was now a short,  feathery cap against her head. What definitely hadn't changed was her  ability to send all his blood rocketing south to a very obvious and  inconvenient place.