The Billionaire's Matchmaker(67)

“T.J. has business with him,” Mia said. “How come he’s never mentioned the scars?”

“Actually,” Gabby replied, “they only met in person once and T.J. said Mr. B. sat in the shadows.”

“So no one could see his secret,” Jenny murmured, pulling at her cardigan sweater. And she’d run off like a scared villager soon as she flashed a light in his face. He’d have no way of knowing her fleeing had nothing to do with his appearance.


“The article doesn’t mention a fiancée,” she noted. Speaking of women who ran away.

Mia set down her coffee. “Mr. B.’s engaged?”

“Was,” Jenny replied. “And like I already told Marney, can we please stop calling him Mr. B.? The nickname so doesn’t suit him.”

On the other side of the table, Gabby and Mia exchanged looks.

“What?” Jenny asked. “It doesn’t.”

“Not when you can call him Nick,” Gabby teased.

“Just look up his fiancée, will you?”

“Yes, Miss Travolini.” Gabby grabbed the mouse. “This article is from the wire service so they might not have known about the fiancée at the time the stringer filed the story. Other sources probably added information later in the day.”

They searched through several more articles, mostly reprints of the original article, before settling on one from a weekly tabloid. The main photograph featured a perfect-looking Nick with an equally perfect raven-haired beauty clinging to his arm.

“She certainly doesn’t look like the dog owning type,” Gabby remarked. “Hard to picture her breaking a nail—let alone dealing with Charlie’s rambunctious side. Can you imagine her spelling out words so he doesn’t go crazy?”

“More likely she’s one of those types who get a puppy because he makes a cute fashion accessory, then loses interest once they become work,” Mia replied. “Gideon hates those kinds of people.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Jenny replied, although she was only half-listening. Her attention was too focused on studying Nick’s face. His blue eyes seemed to reach through the computer screen, brash and confident. So not the gaze she saw last night. Last night she saw fear, a desperation even that matched her own behind the sparkle. Those painful emotions didn’t belong in eyes like his. To see them touched a chord deep inside her.

“He sure was gorgeous,” Mia said.

“Is.” The correction was automatic. “I told you, the scars aren’t all that bad.”

“Well, he must think they are,” Gabby said. “Why else would he pull all this Phantom of the Opera stuff?”

Why else indeed? Did Nick think of himself as some kind of marked monster? Jenny’s gaze traveled back to the computer screen, to the breathtaking woman on Nick’s arm. The type who loses interest once they become work. Wasn’t that how Mia described her? Had the ex-fiancée bailed on Nick the same way she’d left Charlie, walking away when things became hard? Jenny’s heart bled a little at the thought. Not all scars could be seen on the surface, as she knew all too well. The marks of abandonment ran far deeper.

And, last night, she’d run from Nick without explanation, leaving him to think her horror was about him. He couldn’t be more wrong. No way he’d know that though.

She owed him an explanation. An apology.

“I have to go,” she announced.

Both Mia and Gabby looked up. “Right now?” Mia asked. “Marney hasn’t gotten here yet, and we still have to sort through the photos.”

“I’m afraid so.” Her guilty conscience wouldn’t let her put it off. “I need to clear up a misunderstanding.”

“Must be some misunderstanding,” Gabby noted.

“It is. A big one,” she replied. “And it has to be fixed right away, before there’s too much damage.”

She could practically hear Mia and Gabby speculating as she pulled out of the drive. Even though she tried to cover her odd behavior by blaming a work dispute, she could tell from their shared glances they didn’t believe a word. Oh well. Let them speculate. The moment she shared with Nick in the woods was too intimate to share, and while her behavior had shocked her, the magic she’d felt in the moment held a special place in her memory.

She didn’t stop to think about why she felt such urgency to set the record straight. Nor did she want to analyze the emotion that clutched at her chest when she thought how her behavior must have hurt him. She only knew that Nick needed to be told he wasn’t the reason she ran last night. As shameful as telling her story would feel, allowing Nick to add another layer to his demons would be worse.

She only hoped her courage would last when she got to his front door

…

“Cyrus!”

Nick limped his way to the library door and called again, getting nothing but Charlie’s bark in response. What the hell good was paying employees if they weren’t around when you called for them? He looked down at the terrier who’d followed him. “Nice to know someone isn’t afraid to stick around,” he said, the words weighing heavy on his shoulder. Charlie grinned and ran back inside where he promptly dragged the throw pillow off the chair. He considered Nick’s comment an invitation to play.

“I wish I could.” The dog had way too much energy this morning. Unlike Nick, whose back was torturing him. He’d pushed himself too hard working and walking, and as a result, his muscles had tightened up. That was the reason he was looking for Cyrus. Someone should take Charlie for a walk since he couldn’t. But the butler was nowhere to be found. Neither, it appeared, was anyone else on his staff.