The Billionaire's Matchmaker(62)

Dammit.





Chapter Three



It was shaping up to be a moonless night. As he walked the woods off the base of his driveway, Nick was beginning to think the weather patterns were coordinating with his moods. Ever since the schoolteacher’s visit, his temperament had been darker than usual. He could hear the doctors now. Bad days are to be expected, Mr. Bonaparte. Healing takes time. He’d been listening to their condescending comments for close to three years now. Far as he was concerned, the only thing time did was pass by. Neither he nor his disposition were going to heal any more than they already had.

He knew the exact cause of tonight’s moroseness. Jennifer Travolini, that fiery sprite, had stirred his libido, and his arousal only reminded him how empty his bed was these days. How empty it would be for the rest of his life. God, but he ached to feel a woman’s body against his. Oh sure, he could pay someone. The world was full of indiscriminating women who would sleep with anyone for a price. He wanted more than sex, however. He wanted a woman who wanted him—all of him, scars and all. Who looked forward to seeing his face every morning as well as share his bed every night.

Then again, he couldn’t find such a woman even before the accident. Why should circumstances change now?

And he’d thought he and Megan were kindred spirits. Hell, maybe they were. Selfish, driven, superficial kindred spirits. No wonder she couldn’t look at him anymore. Now that the outside matched the inside.

In the distance, he heard the faint jingle of metal. He must have walked closer to the road than he realized. As the noise grew closer, he stepped back, into the trees so he wouldn’t be seen.

Cyrus considered all this insistence on dark and shadows dramatic. He was forever reminding Nick that his wealth and reputation provided plenty of compensation, even if by some rare chance a nosy paparazzi snagged a photograph. But of course, Cyrus would feel that way. He never had to endure the looks that flashed across people’s faces. Pity and revulsion, followed by the smug hint of satisfaction.

This latest effort, the trip to Europe, had been the last. He was done trying to fix what couldn’t change. If that meant living alone in the shadows, then so be it. At least in the dark, he could still feel a little bit in control.

The jingling grew closer. Oddly enough he didn’t hear footsteps. Nick looked up the path. Thank goodness for daylight savings time. Though dark at dusk, it was still light enough for him to make out shapes. Up ahead, he spied a pair of two-foot high silhouettes trotting toward him, one particularly bouncy and hyperactive while the other followed demurely behind. A moment later, a wet nose could be heard sniffing in his direction.

“Broke out of the big house, did you?” Funny how he instinctively knew his visitor. Guess he paid more attention to his dog than he thought. Kneeling, he extended his fingers. Charlie sniffed them cautiously then began wagging his tail in greeting. His enthusiastic and unreserved acceptance brought a shift in Nick’s chest.

“Maybe I’ll take you back after all,” he said, giving the dog’s ears a rub. The short fur was coarse against his skin.

He felt another wet nose nudge his skin and turned to look at Charlie’s companion. Though he couldn’t make out the coloring, he saw the outline of long curly ears and a small round face. “The infamous Lulu, I presume.” He stroked her ear, the strands slipping through his fingers like corn silk.

Made him wonder what her owner’s hair felt like.

Her owner. Jennifer would no doubt be looking for the animals. In spite of himself, his blood stirred at the prospect of seeing her again.

“Charlie! Lulu!”

Speak of the devil. A second later, Jenny’s silhouette came into view. At some point, she’d put a jacket over her cardigan, another bulky layer hiding her body. Didn’t matter. Nick’s body still stirred in appreciation. As he looked her up and down, he found himself actually cursing the darkness. It kept him from seeing her features clearly. She had such an expressive face. But if he couldn’t see her features clearly, then she couldn’t see his.

…

“What do you two think you’re doing, taking off like that?”

Jenny gave the dogs a stern look, though she doubted the scowl would do much good. First off, she wasn’t sure the dogs could see her face, and second, they didn’t look the least bit sorry for running away. The two of them were sitting on the edge of the path, tails wagging like they’d won a game. “Your bad habits are rubbing off,” she told the terrier. She swore his responding bark sounded proud. “I turn my back for two minutes…”

By the time she’d searched her condo and determined that the two dogs had indeed run outside and weren’t simply playing upstairs, Charlie and Lulu were halfway up the street. She’d been playing stop and start with them ever since, with the pair only letting her get so close before taking off down the street again.

“And did you have to come here?” She’d cursed aloud when she saw them dash onto Bonaparte’s property. “What if someone sees you and tells Mr. Bonaparte?”

“Too late. He already knows.”

Jenny jumped. The gravelly voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Looking around, she finally spied him leaning against the trunk of a sprawling oak tree.

“Did I startle you?” he asked.

He knew damn well he did. She’d brought a flashlight to help her spot the dogs. Now she moved the light so she could see him better, only to have him hold up his arms and step back. “Don’t.”