The Bride's Flirty Wager, Book #6

• One or two secrets 😉
• Alpha Billionaire
• Adversaries to Lovers
• Workplace Romance

“For once in your life, you’re going to stay out of my business. We don’t have that sort of relationship anymore. We’re not a couple. We’re not involved. And we’re certainly not doing the dirty, regardless of what all of Palmersville might think. Nor will we ever marry!”—Emma Palmer’s declaration (mistaken, of course)

“You still want me. Just as much as I want you. And within the next two weeks we will be married.”—Gray Shaw’s vow (not-so-mistaken)

If only her desperately ill grandfather weren’t also insisting that she marry Gray—and fast—before the old man’s time is up. And if only the entire town of Palmersville weren’t siding with Gray and helping him in the sneakiest, most devious ways. The only way to convince Gray that the wedding won't happen is to set him an impossible challenge: Have him give her what she wants most in the entire world.

But what happens if he figures it out?

The Bride’s Flirty Wager is a passionate, tender contemporary romance, guaranteed to make you a believer in happily-ever-after.

Note to Readers: The Bride’s Flirty Wager is Book #6 in The Matchmakers Series, a contemporary romance series by USA Today bestselling author and eleven-time RITA© (Romance Writers of America) finalist, Day Leclaire. This story features a hot, take-charge alpha hero and the perfect woman for him, and a sizzling romance between soul mates.

SO MAYBE this wasn’t the worst day of her life. Though as bad days went, this one ranked right up there as top ten in horrendous. Emma Palmer double-checked the room number on the slip of paper she held and then compared it to the number on the door. It matched. All she had to do was knock. Simple, right? She grimaced. Not so simple, mainly because she didn’t want to talk to the man on the other side of the door.

It was bad enough that she’d missed her best friend’s dress rehearsal due to her flight developing last-minute mechanical problems. But she’d also missed all the fun things she, Tess, and Raine had planned for the hours leading up to the wedding ceremony. Top that off with lost luggage, the hotel giving her room away and now a last-minute chore her grandfather had requested. At this rate, she’d never get to the church and Tess would never forgive her.

Well, the sooner she knocked, the sooner she’d be on her way. All she had to do was lift her fist and give the door a good, solid bang.

Okay, so maybe she’d have to do a little more than that. Maybe after she’d knocked on Gray’s hotel room door she’d need to offer a few flat-out lies along the line of, “I haven’t given you a thought in months” and “Gee, how time flies when you’re out making merry with other men.”

Then she’d follow that with some incredible acting involving a couple of glances that said, “You no longer interest me and you certainly don’t rock my world anymore.” And then she’d top it all off with a total purging of her normal personality. No emotional outbursts. No begging for one last kiss. And absolutely no shoving him onto the bed in order to have her wicked way with him. If she followed those few minor rules, she might make it through the next day or two.
She took a deep breath. She could do it. Sure she could.

She simply had to suppress any sort of reaction to Gray—particularly of the sexual sort—and present him with a cool facade. It would be a snap, even if she’d never managed it before. After all, she was a mature adult. She could act like it just this once, right? She lifted her fist to bang on the door, then dropped it again. Darn it. She didn’t want to knock. She didn’t want to be standing here at all, let alone preparing to deal with Gray and the fallout from their last meeting.

The door swung open just as she was about to beat on the door again. “I thought I recognized that particular hammering,” he offered in greeting. “After all these years I ought to.”

Time to choose. She could either sacrifice her pride and throw herself into his arms, or she could take out her irritation on him. It proved a tough decision, but she managed it. Irritation won out. Aside from salvaging her pride, getting angry would keep her from doing something incredibly foolish—like finding the fastest way to get him horizontal.

“This is all your fault!” she announced.

“Hello to you, too. Please.” He stood to one side and waved an arm toward the sitting area of his hotel room. “Come in and make yourself comfortable while you yell at me some more.”

“As tempted as I am to take you up on your offer, I don’t dare. If I stay any longer than five minutes everyone in Palmersville will think we’re— We’re—” A telltale blush blossomed across her cheekbones.

“Doing the dirty?” Gray offered, slamming the door shut behind her.

“That’s disgusting!” Emma marched across the room, determined to put as much physical space between them as possible. That way she wouldn’t be tempted to do the dirty, get down and dirty, play dirty, or do anything else that involved her, Gray, and stripping out of their clothes as quickly as possible. “But, yes. That’s what I mean.”

“Would you mind telling me why everyone in Palmersville would think we’re doing the—”

“Indulging ourselves!” she inserted hastily.

“Fine. Indulging ourselves. Or am I supposed to guess?”

“If you hadn’t arranged to have your hotel room directly across from Widow Bryant’s, no one would suspect a thing.”

“Hell. And here it took all my powers of persuasion to set that up.” She heard his approach, could feel his presence a few short steps away. She shivered. He was close. Too close. “Just out of curiosity, why did I set it up? Because I’m damned if I can remember.”

Emma spun around to confront him, only to have every cogent thought tumble from her head. Heaven help her! Gray stood before her in a formfitting tux, his endless shoulders lovingly molded by the black silk. She remembered those shoulders. And why shouldn’t she? She’d explored every inch of them. Kissed every inch. Slept on them. Wept on them. Clung to them during endless nights of passion.

She’d foolishly thought herself in love with him, mistaking lust for something deeper and more meaningful. What an idiot she’d been. Other than having been born in the same small town, they had nothing in common.

Gray lived in a world that recognized two colors—black and white. Or perhaps, considering his accountant status, she should say black and red. Credit and debit. Plus and minus. He refused to see anything in between those two extremes, despite his name. It was an irony that hadn’t escaped either of them. And while Gray busily organized his life into tidy little checkerboard boxes and compartments, Emma preferred something far different.

Her gaze returned to linger on his shoulders. At least, she preferred something other than what Gray had to offer right up until she’d walked into his hotel room. Perhaps one small relapse wouldn’t be a total disaster. She could blame it on a stressful day, or an excess of emotion due to the marriage of one of her best friends. Or she could just admit that she was a sucker for broad shoulders, gorgeous blue eyes, lips capable of melting her into a puddle of feminine mush, and hands that could provoke the most outrageous reactions.

She moistened her lips. “Gray—”

She’d given herself away with that one aching word. His response hit hard, his eyes darkening with a mixture of painful yearning and ruthless determination. “If you don’t stop looking at me I’m going to be disgusting again,” he warned. “And if that happens, we’re going to miss Tess’s wedding.”

Disgusting? Oh! Doing the dirty. Somehow it didn’t sound as bad as it had before. In fact, it sounded downright tantalizing. Not that she’d let Gray guess how she felt. “Hah! I knew it. Widow Bryant said we’d miss the wedding if we weren’t careful.”

He thrust a hand through his neatly combed hair, rumpling the coffee-brown waves into uncharacteristic disorder. It pleased Emma no end that she could provoke that sort of response from him. “One of these days we might have a conversation where I actually understand what you’re saying. Shall we try again? Maybe we could approach this discussion logically.”

“Oh, right. Logic. Your specialty.” Emma took a deep breath, struggling to organize her thoughts into some sort of reasonable order. Gray managed it as easily as blinking. But she’d never had much success with something as bewildering as logic. “Widow Bryant has my hotel room and she’s right across the hall from you.”

Gray stared at her blankly. “Your hotel room.”

“It was mine. But I arrived late and the hotel gave it to her.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “And how is that my fault?”

“That part isn’t.” She scowled. “And I guess the fact that your room is directly across from hers isn’t your fault, either.”

“Grudging honesty. How refreshing.”

“Can the sarcasm, Gray. We have a problem. Everyone in Palmersville thinks we had an affair.”

“We did have an affair.”

He was impossible. He’d always been impossible. No doubt he’d keep it up until someone brought a short end to his impossible, miserable, accountant life. “Don’t you understand?” To her distress, a hint of vulnerability underscored her words. “They’re going to think we’re still having one. Widow Bryant saw me come in here. The entire town is taking bets about the outcome of our relationship.”

“Remind me to put some money down. Considering I know exactly how our relationship is going to come out, I can make a mint.”

“Would you please be serious.” She should laugh along. Any other time she would have. But she couldn’t, not anymore. The misery of their parting prevented that. It hurt. Sometimes it hurt just to think. It even hurt to breathe. But to share the same space, to stand within inches of him and know she’d never again experience what they’d once had…. Ruthlessly she ignored the tide of painful emotions and forced herself to stick to the subject at hand. “Let me make this as black and red as I possibly can, so even you’ll understand. I was seen outside your door.”

“And?”

“And Widow Bryant assumes I’m here to visit you.”

“You are.”

“You know what I mean! She thinks we’re doing the dir—” Emma groaned and covered her face in mortification. “Making love! She thought I came here to make love.”

“So what if that’s what she thinks?” His voice roughened. “And so what if that’s what we actually do?”

He shouldn’t tempt her like that. It wasn’t fair.

“People would hear about it.” She lifted her head and announced starkly, “Tee would find out.”

He waved that aside, impatience implicit in the decisive gesture. “Let him. Hell, Emma. You’re thirty years old. What difference does it make if your grandfather finds out about our affair?”

“Tee doesn’t believe in affairs. He believes in marriage. If he finds out we’ve been—”

“Doing the dirty,” Gray offered helpfully.

Anger ripped through her. “Darn it! Aren’t you listening? He’ll expect us to get married.”

“So we’ll refuse.” He shrugged, unaffected by her annoyance, which irritated her all the more. “How hard is that?”

“You know Tee. He’ll find a way. I’d rather not give him any excuse to beat a dead issue.”

“That’s going to be difficult if all of Palmersville is taking bets about whether or not we’re—”

“We’re not!”

“We were.”

“Not any longer. And we’re not going to start again, either.”

“I’m real sorry to hear that.”

The comment came so fast on the heels of her own that Emma knew he hadn’t thought before speaking, or he’d never have admitted such a thing. She couldn’t summon a single response, not in the face of such frankness. A flip, offhand comment would hurt him, while anything more serious would return to a place she didn’t dare go.
For an endless moment their gazes locked in silent acknowledgment. They’d known each other almost all their lives. If she were honest, she’d admit that they knew each other better than any other two people. They’d shared so many crucial occasions. Birthdays. Graduations. Anniversaries. Loss. Discoveries. The highest moments. The lowest. There wasn’t a single important event in Emma’s life in which Gray hadn’t played a vital role, just as she’d been a major participant in all of his key milestones. The ghosts of countless memories stood between them, filling the air with the echoes of love and laughter and passion.

And regret.

“We don’t have time for this, Emma. We have a wedding that starts in precisely one hour.” His matter-of-fact comment succeeded in shattering the moment.
It was typical of him. Let a hint of emotion enter the relationship and he put a quick end to it. Although… She frowned. He didn’t sound as though he was avoiding an emotional confrontation this time. If anything, he sounded exhausted. He’d been overdoing it lately, she’d bet her last dollar. Also typical. He always worked too hard, no matter how much she nagged at him about it. Well, it wasn’t her problem anymore. She wouldn’t give it another thought. She bit down on her lip. At least, she’d try not to.

“I’m well aware that the wedding starts in an hour,” she finally acknowledged.

“Then what are you doing here, Emma?”

Slipping her purse off her shoulder, she fumbled through the paraphernalia that seemed to accumulate no matter how diligently she attempted to prevent it. Dislodging a slim envelope from beneath a calendar book, a roll of breath fresheners, and headphones for her portable CD player, she offered it to Gray.
“Here. This is for you. It’s from Tee. He said it was urgent and that I should give it to you in private.”

Gray accepted the envelope and ripped it open. It only took a minute to scan the pertinent lines. I got her there. What you choose to do with her is your business. Great. Tee offered up his granddaughter, but he’d done it less than an hour before the wedding.

The note must have been at the Cupid Committee’s instigation. No doubt this was the “step one” Shadoe had referred to in his e-mail. Too bad the allotted hour didn’t give Gray time to accomplish much of anything. At least, anything that would make a difference.

“What does he say?” Emma asked.

“It’s business.”

“Business.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I used to work for Tee before I worked for you. If it’s so urgent, I’m surprised no one’s told me about it.”

He considered for a moment. “It’s also confidential.”

“Confidential, as well as urgent. Interesting.”

“Why the curiosity, Emma?”

She hesitated. “It’s Tee. He—” She broke off, avoiding his gaze. “He hasn’t been well recently and I’m worried. I just wanted to make sure the note didn’t have anything to do with his health.”

Gray studied her for an endless minute. She was keeping something from him. Something important. Time to find out what. “It doesn’t have anything to do with Tee or his health,” he reassured gravely. “But if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll fill you in on what he said after the wedding. Will that satisfy you?”

She nodded. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

“No problem. Now tell me what’s wrong with him.”

“It’s not that serious.” Her lie was as transparent as ever. She’d never been able to put across a decent fib. He’d always regarded it as one of her more endearing qualities. “He’ll be back to his old self in no time.”

Gray closed the distance between them and dropped his hands to her shoulders. She didn’t shrug off his hold, but a hint of defensiveness sparked in her eyes. They were strange eyes, tilted upward at the corners and cast in an exotic hue more gold than brown. They suited her, giving a catlike appearance to her triangular face. She was a wayward sprite, a golden changeling who had dropped into his life ages ago and irrevocably altered it. And it made him madder than hell.

He shouldn’t be driven by such basic, physical urges. He wasn’t the type. His was a simple world full of simple choices. Nor should he want to catch quicksilver or follow rainbows or chase futile dreams. Those were the desires of charlatans and con men. And yet, whenever he was around Emma that was precisely what he wanted to do. She stirred something primitive and ancient within him, breaching his defenses with a simple smile. Whenever she was around life seemed brighter, more full. He wanted the sort of life she promised.

He craved it.

He fisted his hands around the collar of her blouse and gathered the red-silk folds close beneath her chin. She’d compressed her mouth into a firm line, probably to keep it from trembling, though the rebellious expression in her eyes denied any such vulnerability. Wayward sprites tended to be odd creatures, both wary and bold. They were also as impossible to contain as sunshine or snowflakes. He’d learned that the hard way.

“What’s wrong with Tee?” Gray repeated.

“We don’t have time to discuss it now. We have to get to the church. You have no idea the day I’ve had. The airline lost my luggage and the hotel gave up my room. If Tess didn’t have my bridesmaid dress, I’d—”

“What’s wrong with Tee?”

He’d often found that the softer he spoke, the more dramatic the impact. Sure enough, the barely audible question had an instant effect. “He won’t tell me.” Her frustration was obvious. “I just know that he hasn’t been feeling well and that he’s seeing a doctor.”

“Crosby?”

“Yes. Not that anyone tells me anything,” she complained. “They don’t seem to understand that patient confidentiality doesn’t apply to granddaughters.”

“I’ll look into it.”

She took instant exception. “I’m not asking you to look into it. I can take care of my own problems.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“No.” She jabbed his bow tie with her index finger. “For once in your life, you’re going to stay out of my business. We don’t have that sort of relationship anymore. We’re not a couple. We’re not involved. And we’re certainly not doing the dirty, regardless of what all of Palmersville might think.”

“But we want to.”

“True—” Her eyes widened in sheer panic. “I mean, no! We don’t. Not even a little.”

“Too late.” Releasing the collar of her blouse, he cupped her face. “Don’t you know? You can’t lie to me. You never have been able to. You still want me. Just as much as I want you.”

And with that, he covered her mouth with his.