"Would I know any of your clients?"
"More than a couple." Brodie held up her hand. "And no, I'll never tell so don't bother asking."
Kade sent her a quick, assessing look. "I bet a lot of the guys hit on you."
Brodie cocked her head at him. "Why would you think that?"
"So they do, I can see it in your eyes. As for how I know...?" He shrugged. "Say I'm a guy and I'm looking for someone. Then I meet you and think, hey, she's gorgeous and nice, I don't need to look any further. Men are lazy."
"It happens," Brodie admitted.
"How do you deal with them?" Kade pulled on his dress shoes-hand-tooled black leather, Brodie noticed as she scooted off the bed and walked over to her dressing table. She picked up her diamond-and-emerald ring and threw it in his direction.
"Nice ring," he commented and threw it back at her. "Except it's fake."
"As fake as the fiancés I invent every week so I have a good excuse not to date," Brodie replied.
"Ah." Kade bent over to tie his laces and turned his head to look at her. "You've never been tempted?"
Brodie took a moment to consider his question. She was surprised when Kade's eyes narrowed. With jealousy? Not possible.
"My clients are successful, frequently really nice, quite rich men. They drive expensive cars, have gorgeous homes and are intelligent. All very eligible."
Kade scowled.
"But they are also men who are looking to settle down and I am not." Brodie placed her ring back in the shallow bowl holding the jewelry she most often wore. "Besides, becoming involved with a client, in any way, is very unprofessional."
"Good thing I'm not your client, nor will I ever be." Kade sat up and reached for the two sides of his shirt. "I'd rather shoot myself than allow a matchmaker, you or anyone else, to set me up."
Brodie silently admitted she'd rather walk on molten lava than have him as a client.
Kade cocked his head. "So why don't you date?"
Brodie flushed. "Because there are two types of dating. People either date for sex or date for a relationship. I don't do relationships, as a rule. And I very rarely do-" she waved her hand at her bed "-this. I'm as virulently anticommitment as you think you are."
"As I think I am?"
Brodie shrugged. She'd seen him with his friends, seen how much he enjoyed his connection with them. He'd be a great husband, a stunning father-if he ever moved out of his party-hearty lifestyle.
Kade held her eyes for a long moment before making a production of looking at his watch. He sent her a crooked grin. "I'm only in it for the hot sex, thanks."
Brodie smiled back. "Then don't win the bid on my auction."
Kade reached into his bag for his bow tie and draped it around his neck, quickly tying it without the use of a mirror. "I very definitely won't," he promised her. "I've got to move or else Wren will have my head."
"Have fun."
Kade picked up his bag and jacket and walked over to her. He dropped a kiss on her temple, then her mouth. "I'd much rather be having fun with you."
Brodie made herself smile. She was pretty sure he said that to all the girls. "'Bye. See you."
"See you," Kade said, walking out of her bedroom. Within seconds she heard her front door open and close and two minutes later, heard the roar of his sports car.
So that was that. She'd had the fantastic sex she'd been craving. But she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed talking to Kade, how easily they slid into intimate conversation. It was as if there were no barriers and it felt way more intimate than post-sex conversation should be. So why on earth was she craving more?
Four
Kade reached for his glass and took a long sip of whiskey. How much longer could this damn ball last?
It was eleven now. If Quinn would move the auction along, Kade could be out of here by midnight. Was it too late to phone Brodie? Was she exhausted? Would he come across as desperate if he called her again so soon? If she was in bed, what was she wearing? A slinky negligee or a tank top and boxer shorts or just her golden skin?
He loved her skin. He loved everything about her body and when he'd held her earlier he'd felt... How had he felt?
Kade cursed the action in his pants. He needed more than a whiskey on ice, he needed a plunge into an ice-fishing hole. At this rate, when he got Brodie where he wanted her-under him-he'd last about two seconds. His reaction to her was ridiculous, insane... There had to be some sort of scientific explanation for why they wanted to rip each other's clothes off at the drop of a hat. Shouldn't the amazing sex they'd shared earlier have taken the edge off? Was it pheromones? Biological instinct? But why her and not one of the many, many good-looking women-many of them Mavericks groupies-scattered throughout the ballroom? None of this made sense.
All he was certain of was that he wanted Brodie again. Urgently. Immediately. Tonight.
Move the hell on, Rayne!
"And now, one of our more interesting donations," Quinn announced. Kade turned his attention back to the stage. "Ms. Brodie Stewart, one of the city's best matchmakers, is offering the opportunity to bid on her matchmaking services. So if you are a guy and are looking for a good woman, Brodie can find one for you." Quinn looked at the Mavericks who occupied the back tables and nodded. "I know one or two, or ten, of my men who should bid."
"I'll bid on a date with Ms. Stewart!" someone shouted from the back. Kade looked down at the photograph of Brodie on the program and couldn't blame the guy for trying his luck. She was gorgeous...
But, for the immediate future, she was his.
"She's too smart to date you, Higgins," Quinn warned. "A reminder, this is a matchmaking service for men looking for their perfect woman. So, who is going to give me a hundred dollars?"
Immediately a couple of hands shot up and Kade watched, astounded, as the bids flew up to a thousand dollars, then two. Bids were still bouncing around the room when a cool female voice cut across the hubbub. "Three thousand dollars."
Quinn spun around and his genial smile turned to a scowl. Rory had her paddle raised and was holding his intense stare.
"On whose behalf are you bidding, Rory?" Quinn asked, his frown clearly stating her bidding had better not have anything to do with him.
Kade leaned back in his chair and grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. Rory had been nagging Quinn about his ability to jump from woman to woman and hobby to hobby-skydiving, white-water rafting, and his obsession with superfast motorcycles-and was determined to nag him into settling down with a wife and two-point-four kids.
She didn't have a hope in hell of changing Quinn. He was even more entrenched in his bachelor lifestyle than Kade. But Kade would enjoy watching her try. He was also damn grateful she was nagging Quinn and not him...
He liked Rory, loved her even, but he wouldn't tolerate her interfering in his life.
Rory's smile was stolen straight from an imp. "Are you taking my bid or not, Rayne?"
Quinn held up two fingers, turned them to his eyes and flipped them around in her direction. "I'm watching you. McCaskill, make sure your woman behaves."
"Yeah, right." Mac leaned back and folded his arms against his chest. "This has nothing to do with me."
"Three-five." A voice from the back got the auction back on track.
"Three-seven," Rory countered.
"Three-eight," Wren calmly stated. She was bidding on behalf of the silent bidders, those who didn't want the room to know they wanted to use a matchmaker.
"Four." Rory waved her paddle in the air.
Four grand? Wow, not bad. The audience obviously loved the notion of being professionally set up.
The bids climbed and Rory matched every one. As the bids went higher, Quinn's face darkened. Oh, yeah, he knew exactly what she was up to. She was buying Brodie's services to find Quinn a woman who would stick around for more than a nanosecond. She was playing with fire, Kade thought, but he couldn't help admiring her moxie.
"Rory," Quinn warned after her bid topped five thousand dollars.
"Quinn," Rory drawled and added another hundred dollars onto her bid.
"You can't bid against yourself," Quinn snapped.
"I just did." Rory's face was alight with laughter. "Oh, I am so going to enjoy this, Rayne. And so will you. So, be a darling. Bang your gavel and tell me I've won."
Quinn looked at Mac. "Doesn't she drive you crazy?"
Mac dropped a kiss on Rory's temple and smiled. "All the time."
Quinn smacked the gavel and told her she'd won the bid before pointing the gavel in her direction. "I won't use it. You can't blackmail me into doing this, Rory."