Designing Passion by Kali Willows Page B

mug and sipped at his steaming coffee. Halfway through taking a drink, he choked, spitting the hot brew on his open planner and the glowing monitor. “What the hell?”
    Canvassing his desktop, he had nothing to clean up the mess. He jumped up, grabbed a box of Kleenex, wiped up the excess moisture, and sat down again.
    Sopping up his chin and the front of his shirt, he strained to focus on the glaring words before him. “Matchmaking?” This had to be a joke. The most active playboy in America didn’t need a matchmaking service. He turned spoiled debutantes away on a daily basis. There was no shortage of women in his life. Had Jackson lost his mind? Or was he playing a really bad joke?
    Scrolling down, he read the explanation.
     
    Wyatt, you’re a hardworking man whom I have grown to respect a great deal. The women you see have proven themselves to be a disappointment. I thought, perhaps, I could offer you a small favor to repay you for everything you’ve done, helping me and my family with our hotel chain. Madame Eve is highly respected, private, and can make your wildest dreams come true—a one-night stand, with no gold diggers looking to land a bank account.
    I realize you’re a highly accomplished man in the romance department, but the way we have been keeping you so busy, traveling the world and building our hotels, has also cost you personally. No, this isn’t a joke. Please think about it. If you’re willing to be adventurous and give it a try, fill out her questionnaire and send it to her. She’ll be in touch with you when she finds a good match. No commitment and no disappointment. Trust me; I know what I’m talking about.
    Jackson
     
    This was by far, the most absurd offer he’d ever received—a one-night stand through a dating service. Jackson did know how to get his goat. Challenging him to be adventurous always triggered a deep-rooted need to rise to the occasion. Cynically, he scoffed and opened the attachment as he began to gnaw on his lip.
    The inside of his lip stung from the chewing when Wyatt sat back in disbelief and denial. That pompous ass expects me to pour my heart and soul out to a faceless name on an email? For what, a night of sex? Sex I can get anywhere and anytime .
    Over the years, Wyatt had become quite a master at masking and even burying his feelings and his heartbreak. Now, he faced a personal interrogation, a page of seriously personal questions that opened up his vulnerabilities. The first question opened the door to the secret emotions he had avoided all this time.
    Have you ever been in love?
    Propelled by resentment and anger, he hammered away at the keys, releasing years of pent-up frustration and sorrow. At first, he found it more of a cathartic device, to vent, rather than take it out on a valuable client who’d become a good friend. Jackson’s intentions may have been ideal, but his actions….
    An hour later, the very document that had sent him into a fury to begin with had become a project he wanted to finish. Completing the entire questionnaire had left him with a pressing sense of curiosity, rather than bitterness.
    Maybe Jackson had a point. All the spoiled little rich girls who chased him had further soured his already broken sense of love and trust. The question that puzzled him most involved the level of passion he’d experienced. It asked about his most explosive and moving sexual encounter. He searched his mental catalogue of gratuitous memories. Hundreds of sexual conquests, all leaving some level of dissatisfaction. The most extreme and compelling experience he recalled occurred in his teens, with the girl who ripped his heart from his chest. She’d effectively ruined any chance for him to love again, let alone truly experience passion.
     
    ***
     
    Airports had never been her favorite places. Tawny glanced at her watch as she tapped her foot repeatedly.
    “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” Sitting up with some relief, she glared