About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since she learned to spell. She’s a former Mills & Boon So You Think You Can Write winner and former RWA Golden Heart finalist. Kat, her husband and their two boys live in north Texas.

Matched to a Billionaire

Kat Cantrell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-472-04945-2

MATCHED TO A BILLIONAIRE

© 2014 Kat Cantrell

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Back Cover Text

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Wanted: one convenient wife

Venture capitalist Leo Reynolds is married to his work, but now he needs a wife. Someone to run his home, host his parties—and accept a marriage that’s strictly business. His one rule: love will play no part in their union. At least that’s the lie he tells himself, until he meets his match….

Enter Daniella White—handpicked by the matchmaker as the perfect wife. Marriage to Leo means security, and she’s willing to give up passion for friendship. But the moment they meet, sparks fly. And now temptation—and Leo’s own heart—have the billionaire ready to change all the rules.

To Jennifer Hayward, because you’re

always there for me. And because you

liked Leo from the beginning.

One

Leo Reynolds wished he could marry his admin. It would make life so much simpler.

Unfortunately, she was already married and nearly twice his age. Plus, women didn’t stick around once they figured out he worked a hundred hours a week on a consistent basis. Loneliness was the price of catapulting Reynolds Capital Management into the big leagues of the venture capital game.

“You’re a life saver, Mrs. Gordon.” Leo shot her a grateful smile and leaned back in his chair.

His laptop was refusing to speak to the printer and a critical document had gotten caught in the middle of the dispute. The signed hard copy now in his hand was due to Garrett Engineering on the other side of Dallas in less than an hour.

“I’d hardly call printing a proposal saving your life.” Mrs. Gordon glanced at her watch in a deliberate gesture designed to point out the time. “It’s late and it’s Friday. Take Jenna to that new restaurant in Victory Park and let me handle the proposal. Relax for once. It’ll be good for you.”

Leo grimaced as a ping of remorse bloomed and faded. “Jenna and I split up. She’s already seeing someone else.”

Hopefully, the new relationship would make her happy. She deserved a man who could shower her with attention and affection. He regretted not being able to give her what she wanted, but it would be patently unfair to let Jenna keep hoping he’d ever become a man capable of focusing on a relationship. As a result, he’d lost a comfortable companion.

“Of course she is. It’s not like she ever saw you.” Mrs. Gordon crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Leo with a tsk. “Now who are you going to take to the museum dedication?”

Leo groaned. He’d conveniently forgotten about that, but it wasn’t as if he could skip the dedication. The new children’s museum in the Dallas Arts District bore his name, after all, since he’d donated the money to build it. “You’re free next Saturday, aren’t you?”

Mrs. Gordon cackled as though Leo had been joking. “One of these days, I’m going to say yes when you ask me out and really mess with you. If Jenna’s not in the picture, find another woman. They seem to be pretty thick on the ground.”

Yeah, he tripped over women on a regular basis who would like to go out with him. Or at least they thought they did, right up until they realized they wouldn’t be satisfied with what little time and attention he could give. It never took very long to reach that point.

A vague hollow feeling invaded his gut, one he’d experienced more and more lately. He’d written it off as an increased urgency to hit that elusive, unachieved mark of success. But now that it had happened during a discussion about his personal life, he wasn’t so convinced.

“I hate dating.” And small talk. That getting-to-know-you period took time and energy he didn’t care to expend. Reynolds Capital Management came first. Always.

“That’s because you don’t do it often enough.”

Here they went, off on her favorite subject. She never got tired of scolding him about the lack of a permanent female in his life.

“Have you been talking to my mother again?”

“We went to lunch Tuesday, as a matter of fact. She says hi.” Mrs. Gordon raised her eyebrows and planted guilt simultaneously, as Leo was sure she intended. He got it. He should call his mother. And date eligible women.

Problem was, he not only hated dating, he also hated constantly standing up dates and disappointing women who deserved better. But he liked companionship and, well, he was a guy—sex was nice, too. Why couldn’t the perfect woman fall in his lap so he could focus on work?

“It is late,” Leo said in what was no doubt a transparent attempt to change the subject. “Why don’t you go home and I’ll take the proposal to Garrett?”

He had until five o’clock to get it to Garrett Engineering, formally expressing his interest in doing business with them.

What Steve Jobs was to cell phones, Tommy Garrett was to internal combustion engines. Or would be, as soon as funding was in place. Garrett had invented a revolutionary modification to increase the gas mileage of a standard car engine and Leo intended to be Garrett’s venture capital firm of choice. The partnership would net a sizable, long-term profit for both men, and Leo could do what he did best—pull strings behind the scenes.

If Leo won the deal.

No, not if. When.

Leo would never rest until his company hit that sweet spot of security, where longevity was a given, not a question mark. His first million hadn’t done it. Neither had the first eight figures, because his profits went straight back into leveraged investments that wouldn’t pay off until some point in the future. So he didn’t rest.

“Since you’ve scared off yet another female with your dogged determination to work yourself into an early grave, be my guest.” Mrs. Gordon waved her approval for Leo to deliver the proposal. “I filled up your car with gas this morning. It wouldn’t kill you to glance at the gauge once in a while.”

“Thanks. You’re too good to me. By the way,” Leo threw in as Mrs. Gordon pulled her handbag from a desk drawer, “I was thinking of having a gathering at my house to wine and dine Tommy Garrett. If I ask very nicely, would you plan it?”

“It’s not my job to be your stand-in wife.” Mrs. Gordon firmed her mouth, which meant she had a lot more to say but didn’t know how to do so tactfully. In the eight years she’d been keeping him sane, he’d seen that look a lot.

With a half laugh, Leo said, “Of course not. That’s not part of your job description.”

Except it had the ring of uncomfortable truth. When his hair grew too long, Mrs. Gordon scheduled a haircut. His mother’s birthday—Mrs. Gordon picked out the gift. The wine-and-dine request had been a bit of a blurred line, but based on the set of Mrs. Gordon’s mouth, he’d pretty well turned the line into a trapezoid.

Mrs. Gordon shut down her computer for the night. “Well, it should be part of someone’s job description.”

“What, like a party planner?” Maybe he should hire a professional in some capacity, which wouldn’t cover all his social obligations. But it was better than nothing.

“Like a girlfriend. Or someone who might actually still be around in six weeks. Hire a wife,” she said with a nod. “You need a good woman to take care of you outside of the office. Ask her to glance at your gas gauge. She can schmooze Garrett and make sure your life is running smoothly. Keep you warm at night.”

Her eyebrows waggled but Leo barely noticed.

Hire a wife.

Could you even do such a thing? It seemed too perfect a solution.

He had no time—or the desire—to sift through women until he found one he liked but who also wouldn’t expect him to be available. Reynolds Capital Management did not manage itself. His employees and partners depended on him.

A wife couldn’t leave him with no notice. It was the ultimate security.

Leo would have a permanent companion to help fill that occasional hollow feeling, one with no hidden agenda involving his assets and connections. They’d both know from the get-go what to expect—stability. There’d be no hard feelings when she realized he hadn’t been kidding about giving 100 percent to his company, leaving nothing left over for her.

All or nothing. Commitment was Leo’s kryptonite. Once he latched on to something, he gave it everything and then some. Early on, he’d realized that trait was inherited and tried not to make the same mistakes as his father.

Then he’d met Carmen, who taught him the true depths of his weaknesses, and how easily one obsession could become the center of his existence. He practiced putting everything but the goal aside until it was second nature.

Love or success. His personality didn’t allow for both and after clawing his way out of the ghetto, he refused to gamble his future.

If he had an understanding wife, work and his personal life would remain completely separate. And best of all, Leo would never have to engage in small talk with a new woman or experience that sharp pang of guilt over canceling on one ever again.

Leo tugged on his suit jacket and hand delivered the proposal to Garrett’s people in their tiny downtown office. It wouldn’t be tiny for long. Investors far and wide were clamoring to get in on the ground floor with Garrett’s technology. Once the company went public, its worth would shoot to legendary status.

Leo had to land the deal with Tommy Garrett, and the wine-and-dine thing would be a fantastic opportunity to solidify his chances. A wife could handle the logistics, leaving Leo to engage in uninterrupted dialogue with Garrett about what Reynolds Capital could do for him that no one else could. His offer to Garrett didn’t expire for several weeks. He had plenty of time to get a wife in place.

When Leo returned to his darkened office, he sat at his laptop. Within fifteen minutes, Google provided a potential answer to the question of how to hire a wife. He’d had to wade through all the cleaning services and concierge services, then a few distasteful escort services, to find the definitive solution.

A matchmaking service.

Yes. Of course. It was not what he’d had in mind when he started the quest. Actually, he hadn’t been sure what he’d intended to find. But this was an intriguing answer. Leo had always thought he’d get married one day, when he could afford to transfer his energy to a relationship. Yet here he was on the downside of thirty-five and Reynolds Capital Management still took all of his focus. All of his time.

He stared at the logo for EA International. The website was professional and tasteful, with earth tones and a classic font. Most importantly, this particular matchmaker catered to exclusive clients, promising discretion and a money-back guarantee. Guarantees warmed Leo’s heart.

The tagline said it all—Let us help you find “the one.”

Presumably, “the one” for Leo would fit all his qualifications. EA International would do the screening, the interviewing, the background checks, and ultimately filter out candidates who were looking for some mystical connection. Love didn’t pay the bills, and Leo would never allow the power to be turned off on his family, the way his own father had.

It was brilliant. The matchmaker would do everything required to find Leo a wife. One he could never disappoint. All he had to do was make a phone call.

Then, with that settled, he could get back to work.

Daniella White had dreamed of her wedding since the first time she’d created crayon invitations to a ceremony starring Mr. Fourpaws as the tattered velveteen groom and herself as the fairy-tale bride wrapped in dingy sheets. Someday she’d wear a beautiful dress of delicate lace and silver heels. The guests would receive heavy card-stock invitations with a vellum overlay and eat a three-tiered French vanilla cake with fondant flowers.

Best of all, a handsome husband-to-be would wait for her at the end of a church aisle, wearing a tender smile. Later that night, the love of her life would sweep her away to a romantic honeymoon somewhere exotic and breathtaking. Theirs would be a marriage of grand passion and enduring love.

When her real wedding day finally arrived, Dannie could never have envisioned it would involve a groom she’d never met in person. Or that in a few minutes, she’d be marrying Leo Reynolds in the living room of a matchmaker’s house in North Dallas, with only a handful of guests in attendance.

“What do you think, Mom?” Dannie beamed at her mother in the cheval mirror and straightened a three-quarter-length sleeve. A dress of any sort usually appealed to Dannie, but this unadorned ecru one would be her wedding dress and she wanted to love it. She didn’t. But she’d make the best of it, like always.

EA International’s sophisticated computer program had matched her with businessman Leo Reynolds and he expected a wife with a certain refinement—one who dressed the part, acted the part, lived the part. Dannie had spent the past month under the matchmaker’s intensive tutelage to become exactly right for that part.

Dannie’s mother coughed profusely, hand to her chest as if she’d clear the scar tissue from her lungs through sheer will alone. “You’re beautiful, baby,” she said when she’d recovered. “Every bit a proper wife. I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Yeah, it was really hard to put my name in a database. Dannie bit back the comment. She wasn’t a smart aleck anymore. No one ever got her jokes anyway.

Two sharp raps at the door shoved Dannie’s heart into her throat. Elise Arundel, Dannie’s fairy godmother–slash–matchmaker, popped into the room, her sleek, dark pageboy swinging. “Oh, Dannie. You look lovely.”

Dannie smiled demurely. She needed a lot of practice at being demure.

“Thanks to you.”

“I didn’t pick out that dress.” Elise nodded once. “You did. It’s perfect for your willowy frame. I’ve never had anyone who glommed on to cut and style with such natural talent.”

“I made up for it by being hopeless with cosmetics.” Dannie frowned. Did that seem too outspoken? Ungrateful? That was the problem with changing your personality to become a society wife—nothing came naturally.

Elise’s critical eye swept over Dannie’s face and she dismissed the comment with a flick of her manicured hand. “You’re flawless. Leo’s socks will be knocked off.”

And there went her pulse again.

The figure in the mirror stared back at her, almost a stranger, but with her dark brown hair and almond-colored eyes. Would Leo be happy with her sophisticated chignon? The erect posture? The scared-to-death woman in the ecru dress? What if he didn’t like brunettes?

She was being silly. He’d seen her picture, of course, as she’d seen his. They’d spoken on the phone twice. Their conversations had been pleasant and they’d worked through several important marital issues: they’d allow the intimate side of their relationship to evolve over time, a clarification that had clinched it since he didn’t believe he was buying an “exchange of services,” and he was open to eventually having children.

Neither of them had any illusions about the purpose of this marriage—a permanent means to an end.

Why was she so nervous about what was essentially an arranged marriage?

Her mother smoothed a hand over Dannie’s hair. “Soon you’ll be Mrs. Leo Reynolds and all your dreams will come true. For the rest of your life, you’ll have the security and companionship I never had.” Racking coughs punctuated the sentiment and the ticking clock in Dannie’s mind sped up. Pulmonary fibrosis was killing her mother.

Dannie was marrying Leo to save her.

And she’d never forget what she owed him. What she owed Elise.

Her mom was right. Dannie had always dreamed of being a wife and mother and now she was getting that chance. Marriage based on compatibility would provide security for her and her mom. She had no business being sad that security couldn’t be based on love.

Maybe love could grow over time, along with intimacy. She’d hang on to that hope.

With a misty smile, Elise opened the door wider. “Leo’s waiting for you in front of the fireplace. Here’s your bouquet. Simple and tasteful, with orchids and roses, like you requested.”

The clutch of flowers nearly wrenched the tears loose from Dannie’s eyes. “It’s beautiful. Everything is beautiful. I can’t thank you enough.”

She still couldn’t believe Elise had selected her for the EA International matchmaking program. When she’d applied, it had all seemed like such a long shot, but what choice did she have? Her mother needed expensive long-term care, which neither of them could afford, so Dannie gladly did whatever her mother needed—doctor’s appointments, cooking, cleaning. Her father had left before she’d been born, so it had been the two of them against the world since the beginning.

Unfortunately, employers rarely forgave the amount of time off Dannie required. After being fired from the third job in a row, her situation felt pretty dire. She’d searched in vain for a work-from-home job or one with a flexible schedule. After hours at the library’s computer, she’d been about to give up when the ad for EA International caught her eye.

Have you ever dreamed of a different sort of career? Coupled with a picture of a bride, how could she not click on it?

EA International invited women with superior administrative skills, a desire to better themselves and the drive to become “the woman behind the man” to apply for a bold, innovative training program.

Who had better admin skills than someone managing the care of a perpetually ill mother? Without much to lose, Dannie sent her information into the ether and shock of all shocks, got the call.

It was fate that EA International was based in Dallas, where Dannie lived.

Elise polished Dannie until she shone and then matched her with a man who needed an elegant society wife. In exchange for organizing Leo’s household and hosting parties, Dannie could take care of her mother without any more financial worries.

A marriage that was little more than a contract seemed a small price to pay.

“You’re one of my most successful graduates.” Elise handed Dannie the bouquet and shifted a couple of flowers to face the outside. “I predict you’ll be one of my most successful matches, as well. You and Leo couldn’t be better suited.”

Dannie’s stomach lurched. She wanted to like him. To enjoy being married. Would she be attracted to him? What if she wasn’t? Would the intimate side of their marriage never happen? Maybe she should have insisted they meet first in spite of their mutual agreement not to.

It hardly mattered. Attraction wasn’t a factor here, but surely they’d eventually hold a great deal of affection for each other, regardless of what he looked like.

Nose to the bouquet, Dannie inhaled the sweet scent of her wedding flowers. “We have similar goals and both recognize the practicality of this union. I expect we’ll be very happy together.”

Leo had gobs of money. She’d have been happy with half a gob. That level of wealth intimidated her, but Elise insisted she could handle it. After all, Dannie would have a valued place in his life and she might eventually be the mother of his children. Her training had made it very clear the woman behind the man worked as hard as women in other careers.

“Happy is exactly what you’ll be.” Elise pinched the clasp of Dannie’s necklace, dragging it to the nape of her neck. The open-heart lavaliere hanging from the chain had been a gift from the matchmaker when Dannie agreed to marry Leo. “My computer program is never wrong.”

Dannie’s mother chimed in. “This is the best kind of match, one that will last forever, because it’s based on compatibility, not feelings. It’s everything Dannie wants in a marriage.”

Dannie forced a nod, though she wished she could disagree, and spared only a passing thought to Rob. She’d been so gaga over him.

Look where that had gotten her—brokenhearted and determined to make over her temperament so no man could call her opinionated and blunt again. She’d screwed up that relationship but good.

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.

Leo leaned a hip against the granite island in the center of the kitchen and picked up a cell phone from the counter. “For you. The number is written here, along with the alarm system security codes and the code for wireless internet access.”

She took the phone with numb fingers and stared at the glossy screen. Her current cell phone was of the make-a-call-only variety. It would take hours to figure out how this one worked. “Thank you. Is your phone number written down, too?”

“I programmed it into your phone. Here’s the user manual.” He slid it across the counter and stuck a hand in his pocket, casually, as though they were a normal married couple chatting in the kitchen. “This model has great planning features. Feel free to add things to my schedule as needed. My admin’s phone number is programmed in, as well. Mrs. Gordon. She’s eager to meet you.”

He had an admin, one who knew him far better than Dannie did, like how to make his coffee and whether he paced while on the phone or sat at his desk.

Suddenly, she felt completely out of her depth. “Oh. All right. I’ll contact her right away.”

“The car and driver will be on call for as long as you like,” he continued, and his mellow voice soothed her nerves as he ticked off the items on his mental list. His confidence and self-assurance were potent. “But please, take some time to visit a dealership and buy yourself a car. Whatever kind you like. You’ll want the independence.”

A car. Any car she wanted. She’d been hopping public transportation for so long, she nearly swooned at the idea. Was there anything he hadn’t thought of? “That’s very nice. Thank you.”

But he wasn’t finished waving his benevolence around. “I opened a bank account for you. It will be replenished regularly, but if you find yourself low, let me know. Spend it like it’s your money, not mine.” From his pocket, he produced a shiny black credit card and handed it to her. “No limit.”

“Leo.” He’d spun her around so many times now, she could hardly keep her balance. The phone and credit card in her hands blurred as she blinked back overwhelmed, appreciative tears. “This is all very generous. I’m sorry if this is too forward, but I have to ask. Why would you do all this and expect nothing in return?”

His dark eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I expect quite a bit in return, actually.”

“I meant in the bedroom.”

Leo went still.

Yeah, far too forward. But jeez, really? A no-limit credit card and he didn’t even want one conjugal visit a month? There was a punch line here she didn’t get and she’d prefer not to have it smack her in the face later.

“Daniella…” Leo swallowed and she realized he was at a loss for words.

Why couldn’t she keep her big mouth closed? She should have stuck to yes and thank you.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “Forgive me. You’ve been nothing but kind and I have no right to question your motives.”

The lines of his handsome face smoothed out and he held up a hand. “No apology needed. I want to have a good relationship, where you feel like we’re equals. The best way to achieve that is to give you your own money and the power to do as you like with it.”

She stared at him. Power. He’d been granting her power with these gestures. The man she’d married was thoughtful, generous and very insightful. This whole experience could have gone very differently. Gratitude welled in her chest. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He smiled and it was as powerful as it was comforting. “Remember, I’m going to be at the office a lot. You should find a hobby or volunteer work to keep you busy. A car will come in handy.”

Implausibly, he was giving her the ability to entertain herself, when her sole focus should be on him and his needs. “Won’t I be busy with all your social obligations?”

He waved it off. “That won’t take one hundred percent of your time. You’re building a life here and when our paths cross, we should enjoy each other’s company. You can regale me with stories of the things you’re involved in.”

Elise had coached her on this extensively. It was part of her role to provide stimulating conversation for Leo’s business associates. Who better to practice with than her husband? After all, they were a married couple having a chat in the kitchen. “That makes sense.”

“Good.” His eyes warmed, transforming him from movie-star handsome into something else entirely. Her breath caught.

If that’s what happened to his eyes when he was pleased, she really wanted to see them stormy with desire.

She shook her head. They were talking about hobbies.

Leo took her hand, casually, as if he’d done it a thousand times. “I don’t want you to be disappointed by our marriage. In the past, it’s been a struggle to balance work and a relationship because the expectations weren’t clear from the beginning. Women in my circles tend to demand attention I can’t give them and I’m grateful we won’t have that issue.”

The feel of her hand in his sparked all the way up her arm, unsettling her. It was the only plausible excuse for why she blurted out, “You couldn’t find one woman besides me who was willing to forgive your absence in exchange for a life of luxury?”

Her mother would have a coronary if she could hear Dannie being so outspoken. But he’d said in the car they could discuss anything. She hoped he meant it.

“Sure. But I wanted the right woman.”

All at once, the reason he’d gone to a matchmaker seemed painfully obvious. He’d tried to buy his way out of putting any effort into a relationship and his previous girlfriends had told him to take a hike. So to avoid a repetition, he bought a wife.

Her.

No wonder he’d been so adamant about honoring commitments. He didn’t want her to bail when she figured out she’d be all alone in this big house from now on.

Gothic indeed.

“I see.”

“Daniella.” His gaze bored into hers, pleading with her to believe…something. But what? “Neither of us have any illusions about this marriage, and that’s why it will work. I understand the drive for security. I’m happy to provide it for you because it’s a drive we share.”

She nodded and excused herself to unpack—and get some breathing room. Security was important and she’d married a good, solid man who’d never leave her like her father had. She just hadn’t expected gratefulness for that security to blossom into unexpected warmth toward the husband who’d provided it. And who promised to never be around.

As she climbed the stairs to her room, she realized what his unspoken plea had been meant to communicate.

He needed her as much as she needed him.

Three

The scraps of silk had definitely not been in Dannie’s suitcase when she packed it.

She fingered the baby-doll lingerie set and noticed the note: “For a red-hot wedding night. —Elise.”

Dannie held up the top. Such as it was. Black lace cups overlaid red silk triangles, which tied around the neck halter-style. Red silk draped from the bust, allowing a flirty peek at the tiny G-string panties beneath. Or it would if she was insane enough to actually wear something so blatantly sexy for her husband.

This lingerie was definitely the ticket to a red-hot wedding night. For some other woman, not Daniella Reynolds. Dannie had married a workaholic. With her eyes wide-open.

She tucked the sexy lingerie into the very back of the drawer she’d designated for sleepwear. Ha. There’d be no sleeping going on if she wore that outfit. She sighed. Well, it would be the case if her husband pried his eyes off his bottom line. And was attracted to her. And they shared a bedroom.

And what exactly had she expected? That Leo would take one look at his new wife and fall madly in love? She needed to get over herself and stop acting as though Leo had taken away something that she’d never planned on having in the first place.

Elise, the eternal optimist despite being perfectly aware Dannie and Leo had only met that same day, couldn’t have known how things would shake out. It was still depressing to be so soundly rejected. How would there be a possibility of children if they didn’t share a bedroom?

Dannie slammed the drawer a little harder than an adult probably should have and stomped to the bed to finish unpacking her meager wardrobe.

If she was going to be alone, this was certainly the place to do it. Her bedroom rivaled the finest luxury suite she’d ever seen featured in a movie. She didn’t have to leave. Ever. There was a minibar with a small refrigerator, fully stocked. An electronic tablet lay on the bedside table and she suspected Leo had already downloaded hundreds of books since her profile had said she liked to read.

The entertainment center came equipped with a fifty-inch flat-screen TV, cable, a DVD player, a sound system worthy of a nightclub and a fancy touch-screen remote. The owners’ manuals lay on the raw silk comforter. Of course. Leo never missed a trick.

She wondered where he kept the owner’s manual for Leo Reynolds. That was something she’d gladly read from cover to cover. A forty-seven-point profile only went so far into understanding the man.

There had to be more to Leo than met the eye, because no one voluntarily cut themselves off from people without a reason.

By the time she folded the last pair of socks, the hour had grown late. Leo’s parents were due in thirty minutes. She called her mother to see how she was getting along with the nurse and smiled at the effusive recounting of how her mother’s new caregiver played a serious game of gin rummy. Her mother sounded happy.

Relieved, Dannie went into the bathroom, where she had left half a cosmetic counter’s inventory strewn across the marble vanity. She took a few minutes to organize it in the drawers, which had built-in compartments of different sizes. The bathroom alone was bigger than her entire apartment.

Dannie agonized over what to wear and finally selected a simple pale lavender skirt and dove-gray button-up shirt. Her small wardrobe of coordinated pieces had been another gift from Elise. She was between sizes so everything had to be altered, adding yet more cost to the already expensive clothes. Shoes, however, posed no problems whatsoever. She stepped into a pair of calfskin sling backs that fit as if they’d been custom-made for her foot, then redid her chignon and makeup.

Who was that woman in the mirror?

“Daniella Reynolds,” she whispered to her reflection, then said it louder to get used to the sound of it. Only telemarketers and her grandmother called her Daniella. She liked the way Leo said it, though.

Since it was far past time to assume her duties as hostess to Leo’s parents, she navigated downstairs with only one wrong turn.

Leo was not in the lavishly appointed living room. Or the kitchen, or any of the other maze of rooms on the first floor. Finally she spied his dark head bent over the desk in his study, where he was clearly engrossed in the dollar signs marching across his laptop screen.

Leo was working. Gee. What a shock. Why hadn’t she thought to check his study first? Wishful thinking?

For a moment, she watched him, curious to see her husband unguarded. Towering bookshelves lined the room and should have dwarfed the man in it. They didn’t. Leo’s persona dominated the room. He’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves to midforearm. With his hair slightly rumpled, he was kind of adorable.

He glanced up with a distracted, lopsided half smile and her stomach flipped with a long, feminine pull. Okay, he was more than adorable. He was quite delicious and thoroughly untouchable, a combination she suddenly found irresistible. Her inner Scarlett conjured up a naughty mental scenario involving that red-hot lingerie and Leo’s desk. Hey, here’s a bottom line you can check out.

“Busy?” she croaked and cleared her throat. Duh. Of course he was.

“I’m, uh, just finishing up.” He shot a furtive glance at his laptop as if the screen contained something shamefully un-work-related.

“What are you doing? Watching YouTube videos?” Shut up, Scarlett. It was none of her business whether he was monitoring stock prices or carousing in a role-playing-game forum. “I mean…”

Well, there was really no recovery for that slip.

“No.” He shut the lid and she thought that would be the end of it. But then his mouth twitched. “I mentor college students online. I was walking through a business plan with one. Via chat.”

“That’s wonderful.” What in the world was shameful about that? “They must really pay close attention when they see your name pop up. That’s like winning the mentor lottery.”

Her new husband was so generous and kind. Of course he was. Elise wouldn’t have matched her with this man otherwise.

“I mentor anonymously.”

“Oh. Why?”

“The business world is—” Flustered, he threaded fingers through his already slightly rumpled hair and she itched to smooth it back for him. “Let’s just say my competitors won’t hesitate to pounce on weakness. I don’t present them with any.”

Mentoring the next generation of businessmen could be perceived as a weakness? “Richard Branson mentors young kids. I don’t see why he can do it, but you can’t.”

“He’s considered successful.” The unspoken I’m not hung in the air, but Leo stood and rolled his sleeves down, then rounded the desk, clearly signaling the end of the conversation. “Shall we?”

Her mouth fell open and she clamped it closed, swallowing the dozens of questions that sprang to her lips. His expression had closed off and even she could read the tread-with-caution sign. “Of course.”

The doorbell rang and she trailed Leo to the foyer to meet Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. Leo introduced his parents and Dannie shook hands with smiling, silver-haired Mr. Reynolds.

The spritely woman with Leo’s dark hair bounded into the house and swept Dannie up in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“I’m happy to meet you, too, Mrs. Reynolds.” Dannie breathed in her new mother-in-law’s perfume, which reminded her of vanilla cookies.

“Oh, please. I’m Susan.”

“I’m sorry, but I was expecting someone…” Cold. Unforgiving. Judgmental. “…older.”

Susan laughed. “Aren’t you sweet? Come with me to the kitchen and let Leo talk to his father while we fetch drinks.”

After a glance at Leo to gauge the appropriateness, Dannie followed Susan into the kitchen and proceeded to watch while Leo’s mother bustled around gathering glasses and chattering as if they were old friends. Obviously Susan felt comfortable in her son’s house. Unlike her son’s wife. Dannie wouldn’t have known which cabinet contained glasses.

“I apologize for missing the ceremony, Daniella.” Susan handed her a glass of tea and touched her shoulder. “It was a stupid, useless protest. But I’m mad at Leo, not you.”

“Oh.” She had to find a new response. That one was wearing thin. But it had been so appropriate. All day.

“He’s just so…Leo. You know?” Susan sighed dramatically and Dannie nodded, though she didn’t know. But she’d like to. “Too focused. Too intense. Too everything but what matters.”

No way was she letting that pass. “What matters?”

“Life. Love. Grandchildren.” With narrow eyes, Susan peered at Dannie. “Did he tell you that he draws?”

The tea she’d just sipped almost went down the wrong pipe. “Draws what?”

Susan snorted. “That’s what I thought. Leo would rather die than let anyone know he does something frivolous. He can draw anything. Animals. Landscapes. Bridges and buildings. He’s very talented. Like his namesake.”

“Leo was named after someone who draws?” She envisioned a stooped grandfather doodling cartoon characters on the back of a grocery list.

“Leonardo da Vinci.”

Dannie nearly dropped her tea. Leo’s full name was Leonardo? Not Leonard? She’d noticed the little extra squiggle at the end of his name on the marriage license but had been so fixated on signing her own name she hadn’t thought anything of it.

It shouldn’t matter. But it did.

She’d married a man with a romantic name who created art from nothing more than pen and paper. She wanted to see something he’d drawn. Better yet, she wanted him to voluntarily show it to her. To share a deep-seated piece of himself. To connect with his wife.

Leo’s mother had torn open a tiny corner of her son’s personality and it whipped up a fervor to tear away more. They’d been matched and Dannie hungered to learn what they might share beyond a love of books, family and commitment.

“Daniella.” Susan crooked her finger and Dannie leaned in. “I get that your marriage to my son is some kind of arrangement and presumably, that’s all right with you. I won’t pry. But Leo needs someone to love him, someone he can love in return, and neither will come easy. If it’s not going to be you, please step aside.”

Her pulse hammered in her throat. This marriage was nothing more than a means to an end. An arrangement between two people based on compatibility, not love—exactly what she’d signed up for. But nothing close to what she wanted, what she dreamed could be possible.

Leo had asked for a wife to run his household, organize his parties and charm his business associates. Most important, his wife should give him what he needed, which wasn’t necessarily the same as what he professed to need.

The woman behind the man had to be smart about how best to do her job.

Her inner Scarlett snickered and said new plan.

“What if it is going to be me?”

Leo had such a generous heart, but he cut himself off from people. He needed Dannie’s help to understand why. If she could figure him out, it could lead to so much more than an arrangement. It could lead to the enduring love story she’d dreamed of.

Susan’s smile could have powered every light in Paris. “Then I say welcome to the family.”

Leo shut the door behind his parents and paused a moment before turning. For fortification. It did nothing to ease the screaming awareness of his vibrant wife. Sure enough, when he spun, there she was. Watching him with those keen eyes, chest rising and falling slightly, straining against her soft gray shirt.

He was noticing the way she breathed.

Clearly, he needed to go bury himself in a spreadsheet for a couple of hours.

His parents had liked Daniella, fortunately, because their lively discussion covered the fact that Leo hadn’t contributed much. He’d been too busy pretending not to be preoccupied by his wife. But she’d been so amazing. A good conversationalist. A good hostess. Warm, friendly. Sexy.

It was just the two of them now. Talking was unavoidable.

“Thank you for entertaining my parents.”

She shot him a perplexed look. “You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for. Right?”

Since she was gazing at him expectantly, he answered her, though the question should have been rhetorical. “Yes, and I appreciate it.”

“I enjoyed meeting your parents. Your mother is very interesting.”

That sounded like a lead-up if he’d ever heard one. “What did she say to you in the kitchen?”

“Nothing of consequence.” The smile on his wife’s face was gracious and innocent. Too much so.

“Don’t listen to anything my mother says, Daniella. She suffers from a terrible affliction with no cure—overt romanticism.”

“Dannie.”

“What?”

She’d inched forward until they were breathing the same air. And her chest nearly touched his with each small inhalation. “Daniella is too formal and stuck-up, don’t you think? Call me Dannie.”

He shook his head. The more formality the better for his peace of mind. “There’s nothing wrong with the name Daniella. It’s unusual. Beautiful. It suits you.”

Her eyes lit up and suddenly, she was the only one breathing because all the organs in his chest stopped functioning. Nothing to the south suffered from the same problem. Everything there hummed on high alert.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

Had he said that? His brain was not refreshing fast enough. “Your name. I said your name is beautiful.” Her expression fell and he cursed. If only he could converse with his wife exclusively by email, then maybe he could avoid hurting her feelings. “Of course you are, too. Very lovely.”

Nice save, he thought sarcastically. Lovely. That described a winter snowscape. From the perspective of an eighty-year-old woman. This was the point where he usually escaped to go do something where he possessed proficiency—work.

Without looking at her again, he muttered, “Good night.”

“Leo.” A firm hand on his arm stopped him before he’d taken two steps past her. “I asked you to call me Dannie because that’s what my friends call me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

The warmth in her voice washed over him, settling inside with a slow burn. He didn’t turn, didn’t dare face her.

Something fundamental had changed in her demeanor—the leash she’d kept on her energy had snapped and yeah, he needed to look out. It leached into the air, electrifying it. She certainly wasn’t afraid to speak to him any longer. “I… Yes. Of course.”

She brushed against his arm as she rounded it, apparently not content to talk to his back. Her shirt gaped slightly, revealing a tantalizing peek at her cleavage. The slow burn blazed faster. They were talking about being friends, not lovers. What was wrong with him?

Dannie. No, too intimate. Daniella was too intriguing. What was he supposed to call her, hey, you?

He couldn’t compartmentalize his wife. That was bad.

“Friends,” he rasped because he had to say something.

Okay, good. Daniella could go into the friends box. It could work. He’d envisioned having a companion to fill a hole in his life. Now he had one.

“Friends.” Without breaking eye contact, she reached up and loosened his tie, leaning into it, fingers lingering far too long for the simple task. “Who help each other relax.”

Relax? Every nerve in his body skated along a razor’s edge, desperately seeking release from the power of his wife’s touch. The faint scent of strawberries wafted from her glossy lips and he wanted to taste it. “What makes you think I need to relax?”

“I can feel the tension from here, Leo.”

Was that what they were calling it these days? Felt like a good, old-fashioned hard-on to him.

As if pulled by imperceptible threads, his body circled closer to hers and the promise of heat turned into a reality as their lower halves brushed once, twice. His hand flew to the small of her back to clamp her tight against him.

Fingers still tangled in his loosened tie, she tugged slightly. Her face tipped up, lips primed to be taken in another kiss, but this time nothing prevented him from finishing it. From dragging his lips down the length of his wife’s torso, straight to…

He cursed—they’d agreed to be platonic only a few hours ago and they were in the middle of an innocuous conversation about being friends. Yet he was salivating at the thought of kissing her, of laughing together over a joke, of being so much more than a convenience to each other.

He took a deliberate step backward and her hand dropped from his tie.

If she had this strong an effect on him, he was in hotter water than he’d realized. He did not want to be so obsessed with his wife.

“I’m tense because I have a lot of work to do.” He willed his body and his bothersome loneliness back into submission. Or tried to. Seemed as though it was destined to be a losing battle. Since she was clearly no longer too scared to talk, he’d have to put space between them another way. “We’ll spend time together, but this will not be a conventional relationship. If that’s not going to work for you, we should get an annulment.”

A hint of hurt crept into her expression. His chest panged. She’d just asked to be friends and loosened his tie. Why was he turning it into a cardinal offense? Wasn’t this part of letting their relationship grow more intimate naturally?

“What happened to make you so jaded?” she asked quietly, not the slightest bit cowed by his speech. He liked it better when she said nothing more than yes and thank you.

“I’m not jaded. I don’t have anything against relationships or love in general. Without it, I wouldn’t be here. My parents still make googly eyes at each other across the table. Didn’t you notice?”

“Of course. They’re a very happy couple. Why don’t you want the same?”

There was the reason he’d nipped the tie loosening in the bud. They were married and might even become friends, but they were never going to be anything more, and it was a disservice to Daniella to let her have the smallest hope otherwise.

He was already doing himself a disservice by even contemplating “otherwise.”

“Oh, they’re happy, all right.” He rolled his eyes. “At the expense of everything else. My parents have no money. No savings.”

And they refused to accept what they called handouts from Leo. He’d like nothing more than to take care of them, had offered a house, cars, even vacations, to no avail. Apparently, they enjoyed the gangs and graffiti spray-painted on the front sidewalk. Their memories appeared to be short, but Leo could never forget the gun-wielding thief who’d broken into their house when he was six. The terror had fueled his drive to escape and kept him on the straight and narrow.

“You fault your parents for being happy over making money?”

“No, I don’t blame my father for working a low-paying job so he could be home with my mom and me. I choose to live my life differently. I’ll never force my child to be grateful for one gift under the Christmas tree. To stay home from school on the days when the rest of the class goes on field trips to the zoo because I can’t afford for my kid to go.”

“Oh, Leo.”

The compassion shining in her eyes unearthed something poignant inside. That had to go. This wasn’t about feeling sorry for poor, little Leo Reynolds from the section of east Dallas where even the churches had bars on the windows. It was about making a point.

“See all this?” He cut a hand through the air to indicate the house at large. “I worked for every dime. I held three jobs in college so I could graduate with no debt and then put my nose to the grindstone for years to get ahead. I’m still not there. If I take my eye off the prize for even a moment, poof. It all vanishes.”

His wife gazed at him without speaking, lips pursed in a plump bow. Firm breasts strained against her blouse, inviting him to spread the fabric wide and—maybe he needed to internalize which prize he wasn’t supposed to take his eyes off of.

Other venture capital companies were unearthing the next Google or staking start-ups that sold to competitors for billions of dollars. Reynolds Capital would be there soon if he kept on course. All he had to do was resist temptation. He’d married a woman who would help him avoid the dangers of giving in.

If she’d just stay in her box, that is.

He breathed in the scent of strawberries and the sizzling energy of his wife. “I work, Daniella. All the time. I can’t invest in a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair if I let you believe in that possibility.”

He couldn’t let himself dwell on the possibilities, either. No weakness. Indulgence led to immersion and immersion led to ruin. Carmen had proved that, nearly derailing his entire senior year and subsequently, his life. It was easier to never start down that path and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Daniella.

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