Matched To Mr Right
She wasn’t going to screw up this one. Her mother couldn’t afford it.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Security and companionship. What else could I possibly ask for?”
Fairy tales were stories about magical solutions to problems and full of people who fell in love, but whose relationships couldn’t possibly stand the test of time. In real life, women had to make sacrifices and Dannie was making hers.
Without any further melancholy and ridiculousness, she marched out the door of the room she’d stayed in during her transformation and went to meet her fate on a prayer that she and Leo would at least grow to care for each other. If there was more, great. She’d consider it a bonus.
Her mother and Elise followed. Dannie paused at the top of the sweeping staircase and took in the scene below.
With cheerful optimism, Elise had placed flower arrangements on the mantel and on each side of the fireplace. Dannie’s heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness of the woman who had become her friend. A photographer stood at the back of the room, poised to snap memories at a moment’s notice, and the gray-haired minister Elise had recommended waited in front of the fireplace.
To his right was Leo Reynolds. Her husband-to-be.
He looked up and met her gaze.
A shock of...something zapped across her shoulders. He looked exactly like his picture, but in person—hello. Dark, straight hair brushed his collar and an expensive, well-designed suit encased a masculine body Leo clearly kept in great shape. Classic, smooth features formed a face handsome enough to sell out an entire print run of GQ magazine. More Ashley than Rhett, which was appropriate since she’d banished her inner Scarlett O’Hara to a place where the sun didn’t shine.
Leo also looked kind, as though he wouldn’t hesitate to carry an elderly lady’s groceries to the car. Dannie almost snorted. If Leo Reynolds had ever seen the inside of a grocery store, she’d eat her bouquet. He was a busy man and it was a good thing for her that he was, or he wouldn’t need a wife.
Not for the first time, she wondered why he’d resorted to a matchmaker. He was good-looking, rich and well-spoken. By all rights, the eligible-woman line should be wrapped around the block.
Eyes on Leo, she descended the stairs with practiced ease—she’d done it in four-inch heels dozens of times and didn’t falter today despite the severity of the occasion. In far too few steps, she reached Leo. In her bone-colored pumps, she and Leo were nearly the same height.
She searched his expression as he did the same to her. What did you say to a man you were about to marry but whom you were seeing for the first time in the flesh? Hey, fancy meeting you here.
A hysterical giggle nearly slipped out. Not an auspicious start.
“Hello.” Well, that should be reasonably safe.
“Hello,” Leo returned and smiled, setting off a nice, warm flutter in her chest.
Up close, he was solid and powerful, capable of carrying a baby in one arm and taking out a carjacker with the other. The flutter that thought set off was a little warmer and little more south than the first one. In theory, she’d known Leo equated to safety. But reality was far more...real. And affecting.
They faced front. Nerves locked Dannie’s knees and she tried to loosen them without drawing attention. If she pitched over in the middle of her wedding ceremony, Elise would never forgive her.
“Let’s begin.” The minister raised a Bible in his wrinkled hands and began reciting the vows Leo had insisted Dannie select.
The words flowed from the minister’s mouth, sounding completely different aloud than she would have imagined. For better or worse, richer or poorer. None of that really applied, not in the way it did for most couples. Those vows were a call to remember the reasons you fell in love in the first place when marriage got tough.
From her peripheral vision, she tried to catch a glimpse of Leo to see how all this was registering. Suddenly she wished they’d had a few more conversations so she’d know better what he might be thinking.
It had just seemed so unnecessary. Elise wouldn’t have allowed her to marry someone awful. Her screening process was diligent and faultless, matching her with Leo on all forty-seven points of the personality profile. So long as he wasn’t a criminal or a wife beater, what did it matter if he had a good sense of humor or liked sweeping historical dramas?
“Do you take Leo as your lawfully wedded husband?” the minister intoned.
Dannie cleared her throat. “I do.”
With a trembling hand, she slipped a plain platinum band on Leo’s finger. Or tried to. She couldn’t get it over the knuckle and when he covered her hand with his to assist, she glanced up to meet his blue eyes.
That same odd shock she’d experienced on the stairs rocked her shoulders. It wasn’t awareness, but deeper, as if she’d just seen someone she knew but couldn’t place.
She shook it off. Nerves. That’s all.
Leo repeated, “I do,” his voice even and strong. Because he wasn’t nervous. Why would he be, with all that masculine confidence?
The platinum band he slid on her finger matched his and winked in the living room’s overhead lighting. She stared at it, transfixed by the sheer weight such a simple band added to her hand.
Divorce wasn’t an option.
Both she and Leo had indicated a strong belief in honoring commitments in their profiles and it had been the first thing addressed in their phone conversation. Leo had been far too generous in the original prenuptial agreement and she’d refused to marry him without serious alterations, namely that any future children would be provided for but she’d get nothing. In her mind, that was the best way to demonstrate the seriousness of her word.
Leo represented security, not free money. And in exchange for that security, she’d be the wife he needed.
This marriage was a permanent solution to their problems, not a love match. Which was fine by her. Leo would never leave her the way her father had and she’d never have to worry about whether he’d stop loving her if she screwed up.
The minister signaled the end of the short ceremony with the traditional, “You may kiss the bride.”
Oh, why had she asked for that part? It was going to be so weird. But it was her wedding. Shouldn’t she get a kiss from her husband? A kiss to seal their bargain.
Leo turned to her, his expression unreadable. As his lips descended, she closed her eyes. Their mouths touched.
And held for a shimmering moment, launching a typhoon of flutters in her abdomen. Maybe the possibility of having a whole lot more than just affection between them wasn’t as remote as she’d thought.
Then he recoiled as if he’d licked a lemon wedge and stepped away.
Their first kiss. How...disappointingly brief, with a hint of possible sparks she’d had no time to enjoy. Hadn’t he felt it? Obviously not.
Her mother and Elise clapped, gathering around her and Leo to gush with congratulations.
Dannie swallowed. What had she expected—Leo would magically transform from a venture capitalist into Prince Charming? Elise’s computer program had matched her with the perfect husband, one who would take care of her and her mother and treat Dannie well. She should be happy they’d have a fulfilling partnership.
She should not be thinking about how Leo might kiss her if they’d met under different circumstances. If they were getting married because they’d fallen in love, and during the ceremony he’d slid her a sizzling glance that said he couldn’t wait for the honeymoon.
She shouldn’t be dwelling on it, but the thought wouldn’t fade—what would his calm blue eyes look like when they were hot with passion?
Two
Daniella stood by the door with her hands clasped and chin down. Leo’s new wife was refined and unassuming, exactly as he had specified. What he had not expected was to find her picture had lied. And it was a monstrous lie of epic proportions.
She wasn’t girl-next-door attractive, as he’d believed. This woman he’d married radiated sensuous energy, as if her spirit was leashed behind a barrier of skin that could barely contain it. If that leash ever broke—look out.
She wasn’t merely gorgeous; in person, Daniella defied description.
The stuff of poetry and Michael Bublé songs. If one was inclined toward that sort of thing.
Even her name was exotic and unusual. He couldn’t stop looking at her. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way-too-short kiss he’d broken off because it felt like the beginning of something that would take a very long time to finish. His entire body buzzed in response to that concentrated energy it badly wanted to explore.
What was he going to do with a woman like that?
“I’m ready to leave whenever you are, Leo.” Her voice, soft but self-assured, carried across the foyer of Ms. Arundel’s house.
He was going to take her home. Regardless of having distraction written all over her, they were married.
His recon skills clearly needed help. Why hadn’t he met her first? Because he’d dotted as many i’s and crossed as many t’s as possible before fully committing to this idea. Or so he’d thought. Leo had spoken with other satisfied clients of EA International and then personally met with Elise Arundel several times. He had confidence in her ability to find the right match, and the thorough background check Ms. Arundel had supplied confirmed her choice.
Daniella White was the perfect woman to be his wife.
Their phone calls had sealed the deal. He’d recognized her suitability immediately and everything fell into place. Why wait to marry when they were like-minded and neither cared if there was any attraction between them? It was better to get on with it.
If he had it to do over, he’d add one more criteria—doesn’t make the roof of my mouth tingle. It was Carmen all over again, but worse, because he was no longer a lovesick seventeen-year-old and Daniella was his wife. No woman could be allowed to set him on the same catastrophic path as his father, not when Leo knew how hard it was to repurpose himself. What painful test of his inherent all-in personality had he inadvertently set himself up for now?
His marriage was supposed to be about compatibility and convenience, not a headlong sprint into the depths of craziness. It was important to start it off on the right foot.
“Did my driver get all of your belongings?” he asked her and winced.
That wasn’t the right foot. My driver. As if he regularly employed servants to do his bidding. Was he really going to act that pretentious around his new bride? He usually drove himself, for crying out loud. He’d only hired a car because he thought Daniella might enjoy it.
She nodded, taking it in stride. “Yes, thank you.”
“Have you said your goodbyes to everyone?”
“Yes. I’m ready.”
The conversation was almost painful. This was why he’d rather have a root canal than take a woman to dinner, why he’d opted to skip dating entirely. They were married, well matched and should be able to shoot right past small talk.
Leo waited until they were seated in the town car before speaking again. She crossed her long legs, arranging them gracefully, skin sliding against skin, heels to one side. And he was openly watching her as if it was his own private movie.
Before he started drooling, he peeled his gaze from the smooth expanse of leg below her skirt. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to invite my parents over tonight to meet you.”
“I would be very happy to meet your parents.” She clasped her hands together, resting them in her lap serenely. “You could have invited them to the ceremony. I recall from your profile how important family is to you.”
He shrugged, mystified why it pleased him so much that she remembered. “They’re less than thrilled about this marriage. My mother would have preferred I marry someone I was in love with.”
“I’m sorry.” Her hand rested on his sleeve for a brief, reassuring moment, then was gone. “You have to live your life according to what makes sense for you, not your mother.”
Everything about her was gracious. Her speech, her mannerisms. Class and style delineated her from the masses and it was hard to believe she’d come from the same type of downtrodden, poverty-stricken neighborhood as he had. She had strength and compassion to spare, and he admired her pledge to care for her mother.
So she possessed a compelling sensuality and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. This was all new. By tomorrow, the edge would surely have worn off.
He relaxed. Slightly.
This marriage was going to work, allowing him to focus on his company guilt-free, while his wife handled wifely things and required none of his attention. He’d paid Ms. Arundel a sizable chunk of change to ensure it.
“Daniella, I realize we barely know each other, but I’d like to change that. First and foremost, you can always talk to me. Tell me if you need something or have problems. Any problem at all.”
“Thank you. That’s very kind.”
Gratitude beamed from her expression and it made him vaguely uncomfortable, as if he was the lord of the manor, bestowing favors upon the adoring masses. They were equals in this marriage. “As I told you on the phone, I have a lot of social obligations. I’ll depend on you to handle them, but you can come to me if you need help or have questions.”
“Yes, I understand.” She started to say something else and appeared to change her mind, as if afraid to say too much. Probably nervous and unsure.
“Daniella.” Leo paused, weighing the best approach to ease the tautness between them. She gazed at him expectantly, her almond-colored eyes bright, with a hint of vulnerability. That nearly undid him. “We’re married. I want you to trust me, to feel relaxed around me.”
A building was only as good as its foundation.
“I do.” She nodded, her expression so serious, he almost told her a joke to see if she’d smile. “You’re everything I expected. I’m very happy with Elise’s choice.”
She was clutching her hands together so tightly, her knuckles had gone white. The art of small talk was not his forte, but surely he could do better than this.
“I’m pleased, as well.” Pleased, not happy. This marriage had never been about being happy, but being sensible. “But now we have to live together and it should be comfortable for us both. You can talk to me about anything. Finances. Religion. Politics.”
Sex.
His mind had not jumped straight to that...but it had, and unashamedly so, with vivid mental images of what her legs looked like under that prim skirt. She glanced at him, held his gaze. A spark flared between them and again, he sensed her energy, coiled and ready to whip out—and his body strained to catch it.
Stop, he commanded his active imagination. He and Daniella had an agreement. A civilized, rational agreement, which did not include sliding a hand over her thigh. His fingers curled and he shoved them under his leg.
She looked down and shifted, angling slightly away. One finger drummed nervously against her skirt. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
His very carnal reaction to a mere glance had obviously upset her.
He cleared his throat. “Are you still okay with letting the intimate side of our relationship unfold naturally?”
Her eyes widened and he almost groaned.
What a fantastic way to set her at ease. He needed to dunk his head in a bucket of cold water or something before he scared her into complete silence. Though that might be better than her constantly starting sentences with yes, as if she thought he expected a trained parrot.
“Yes.” She met his gaze squarely and earned a couple of points for courage. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Because you feel this draw between us and it’s making your palms sweat, too.
Chemistry had been far down the priority list, for both of them.
He just hadn’t anticipated having so much of it right out of the gate. Or that it would pose a very real danger of becoming such a distraction, the exact opposite of his intent in hiring a matchmaker.
His focus should be on work. Not on getting his wife naked. Indulgent pleasures weren’t on the menu, particularly not for someone with his inability to stop indulging.
“I want to be sure we’re on the same page,” he said.
“We are. Our marriage will be companionable with a progression toward intimacy when it seems appropriate.” Her tone wavered, just a touch, and was coupled with a glint in her eyes he couldn’t interpret. “Like we discussed.”
His exact words. And suddenly he wished he could take it all back. Wished he could put a glint of happiness in her eyes instead of the look currently drilling a hole through his chest. The unsettling feeling bothered him more than the chemistry, because he had no clue what to do with it.
“We’ll have separate bedrooms, for now.” That had been his intent from the beginning and seemed even more necessary given her nervousness. It should solve everything. The back of his throat burned with inexplicable disappointment. “Take things slowly.”
Separate bedrooms would serve to put some distance between them. Ease the tension, give them both time to acclimate. Give the chemistry time to cool. And definitely allow him to refocus.
Then they’d settle into what he’d envisioned: a marriage where they had fulfilling lives outside of each other and enjoyed a pleasant relationship both in the bedroom and out. No one with his intense personality could have any other kind of marriage.
His phone beeped and he glanced at it. He’d taken a half day to attend his wedding and given his employees the rest of the day off as well, but he was never “out of the office.”
The email was a brief courtesy notice from Tommy Garrett’s people to let him know Garrett Engineering had narrowed the field to Leo and another firm, Moreno Partners. Excellent. The timing couldn’t be better. His new wife could organize the wine and dine for Garrett as soon as she was settled.
“Do you need to make a call?” Daniella asked politely. “I don’t mind. Pretend I’m not here.”
That wasn’t even possible. “Thanks, but it was an email. No response needed.”
A different strategy was in order. In light of the wife he’d ended up with, thinking of her as an employee might work best to stave off the urge to spend the weekend in bed, making his wife laugh and then making her gasp with pleasure. And then hitting repeat a hundred times.
If he fit Daniella into a predefined box, she’d slide into his life with little disruption and that was exactly what he wanted. What he needed.
Success guaranteed security. It was the only thing that could and no price was too high to ensure he kept his focus on Reynolds Capital Management—even continued solitude.
* * *
Dannie kept her mouth shut for the rest of the ride to her new life.
Where she would not share a bedroom with her husband.
She was alternately very glad for the space and very confused. The flash of awareness between them must be one-sided. Or she’d imagined it. Leo could not have been more clear about his lack of interest in her.
Maybe he’d seen right through Elise’s makeover.
And now her fantasy about the way he’d kiss if he really meant it had shattered. Such a shame. Her husband was attractive in that unattainable way of movie stars, but in her imagination, he kissed like a pirate on shore leave, and no one could take that away.
She stole a peek at this hard-to-read man she’d married for life.
Her lungs froze. What if Leo decided he didn’t like her after all? Just because he claimed to have a strong sense of commitment didn’t mean he’d tolerate screwups. And screwups were her specialty.
Her mother was counting on her. She was counting on herself, too. If Leo divorced her, she’d have nothing. One of his first acts upon learning she’d accepted his proposal was to hire a full-time caregiver for her mother who specialized in pulmonary rehabilitation. The nurse was slated to start today.
Without Leo, her mother would surely die a very slow and painful death. And Dannie would be forced to watch helplessly.
Her nails bit into her palm and she nearly yelped. Long nails. Yet another thing she had to get used to, along with all the other things Elise had done to make her over into Leo’s perfect wife. Organization and conversation skills came naturally, but the polish—that had taken a while to achieve.
She had to remember her job here was to become the behind-the-scenes support for a successful man. Not to be swept away in a haze of passion for her new husband.
“We’re here,” Leo said in his smooth voice.
Dannie glanced out the window and tried not to gape. Leo’s house practically needed its own zip code.
They’d discussed her comfort level with managing a large house. During the conversation, she’d pictured a two-story, four-bedroom house with a big backyard, located in a quiet suburban neighborhood. That would have been her idea of large after the small two-bedroom apartment she’d shared with her mother.
She’d known the house was in Preston Hollow, one of the most elite neighborhoods of Dallas. But this she could never have anticipated.
Wrought-iron gates caught between two large brick-and-stone posts swung open as if by magic and the driver turned the car onto the cobblestone drive leading up to the house. Colossal trees lined the drive, partially blocking the sun and lending a hushed, otherworldly feel to the grounds. And grounds was the only fitting term. Neatly manicured grass stretched away on both sides of the car all the way to the high stone wall surrounding Leo’s house.
Her house. Their house.
The car halted in a semicircular crushed-stone driveway, and the hulking residence immediately cast it in shadow. The manor sprawled across the property, pointy rooflines dominating the brick-and-stone structure. Four—no, five—chimneys stabbed toward the sky.
She should have asked for a picture before agreeing to handle a property this size. What was she doing here?
“What do you think?” Leo asked, but it was hardly a question she could answer honestly.
“It’s very...” Gothic. “Nice.”
She bit the inside of her lip. All of Elise’s hard work would go up in smoke if Dannie couldn’t keep her smart-aleck gene under control. The thought of Elise calmed her. They’d done exhaustive work together to prep Dannie for this, with endless days of learning to set a table, to make proper tea. Practicing how to sit, how to walk, how to introduce people. In between, Elise had transformed Dannie’s appearance into something worthy of a magazine cover.
This was it—the test of whether the makeover would stick or Dannie would fail.
With a deep breath, Dannie smiled. “It’s beautiful, Leo. I’m very eager to learn my way around.”
“Let me show you.” He placed a hand at the small of her back as she exited the car and kept it there, guiding and supporting, as they ascended the stone steps to the front door. “Please think of this as your home. Anything you want to change is open for discussion.”
Anything. Except the arranged-marriage part.
It was ridiculous to even think that. But her wedding day felt so anticlimactic. And disappointing. She shouldn’t be wishing Leo would sweep her up in his arms and carry her over the threshold, Rhett-style. Or wishing they had a timeless romance.
The palm at her back signaled security. Not passion. A partnership based on mutual affection was enough. Dannie was Leo’s wife, not the love of his life, and she didn’t have the luxury of entertaining daydreams of eventually being both.
Leo led her into the foyer. The interior of the house opened before her, with soaring ceilings, twenty-foot windows and grand arches leading to long hallways. It reminded her of a cathedral, beautiful and opulent.
The tour of her new home took close to thirty minutes. By the time Leo concluded it in the kitchen, she was out of breath and ready to get started on the first thing she wanted to change—her shoes. The house had four flights of stairs.