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don’t know that you are going to answer any of my questions.”

      “What do you want me to say?”

      “Tell me something, give me a preview of what kind of story I’ll be getting so I know I’m not just giving in to your will at my own peril.”

      He arched one eyebrow at her. “Your peril? That sounds very Victorian and just a tad melodramatic.”

      “Dang, I was going for more than a tad,” she said with a grin. “But seriously …”

      “Seriously,” he said. “I decided to keep the matchmaking company for two reasons. The first is because it makes me a lot of money. And that’s really the only reason that counts. You can’t be a businessman in this economy and not give serious consideration to something that is keeping you solvent.”

      “I agree,” she said. This was the kind of information she wanted. He was talking about matchmaking as if it were a widget being made in a factory, and to him it was. “What was your second reason?”

      He leaned back in his leather chair and steepled his fingers over his chest. “I want to use it as a vetting tool for my friends. One of my cousins was the target of a gold digger and I hated what she did to him. I didn’t want to see anyone else in that situation. Given my own past with my father and the secrets that people keep in relationships, I think having a firm like Matchmakers, Inc. involved in setting up dates is the safest way for people to meet.”

      She had gotten more from him than she had expected. “That is so cynical. A lot of people meet without doing a background check or having their likes and dislikes tallied and are actually happy with each other.”

      “I’m willing to bet that they aren’t in my socioeconomic bracket. And I’m not saying that to be snooty. There is a different set of variables when you are talking about old money and family fortunes.”

      “Tell me more about that,” she said.

      “I’m afraid that’s where your sneak peek ends,” he said. “If you want any more material for your story, then you’re going to have to agree to be my mistress.”

      She swallowed hard. He had given her just enough to make her want to ask more questions. Her instincts had been right in pursuing him. Conner had the potential to be a career-changing interview.

      “What does being your mistress involve?” she asked.

      Conner had barely given her any insights that he hadn’t shared with friends over the years and was relieved to see that it was enough for her. He understood what she wanted from him and he knew that there were lines he’d always been afraid to cross. Lines that he didn’t want to chance letting her know existed because Nichole had proven this morning in his office that she was more than equal to him.

      She was willing to sacrifice to get the story and he knew that being in his bed wasn’t exactly a hardship. But he also knew that because he’d pushed her into this position he was asking her to do something that was hard for her.

      “Being my mistress will involve a lot of pleasure,” he said.

      She flushed. “I’m not asking for a rundown on what kind of sexual pleasures you will be pursuing with me. I mean, from a logistical standpoint, I have no idea what makes a woman a mistress.”

      He had no idea, either. He’d never had a mistress before, though his friend, Alexander Montrose, did all the time. Alexander believed that money was at the root of all relationships and the only way to manage relationships was to make them business deals.

      “You will move into my penthouse apartment here in the city and be available to me whenever I want you.”

      “I have my own place and a job.”

      “For the duration of our arrangement I’d want you to live with me. As you know, I’m the busy CEO of a huge multinational conglomerate, so even though I said you’d be available whenever I want you, we’re not talking every hour of the day. Though I think I would want to have you to myself for the first twenty-four hours so I can sate the hunger that has been riding me since I first laid eyes on you.”

      His words were nothing less than the truth. He had to give Alexander props for the mistress thing. It was so much easier than dating. No coy games or subtleties—just full-on lust. He liked it. He didn’t expect to be keeping mistresses full-time in the future, but the more he thought about the idea, the more he liked it.

      “I want you, too. What else?”

      “I will pay your bills. I might need you to accompany me to a few social events, but given that you are writing an article about me perhaps we should keep that to a minimum?”

      “Why? Reporters follow their subjects all the time,” she said. “But if I agree to this, I don’t want anyone to ever know about our arrangement. I think moving into your place would be a bad idea. There will be doormen and maids who will know I’ve stayed there.”

      “What’s the alternative?”

      “You can come to my house,” she said.

      “You have neighbors, right? The risk of discovery is just as great. Perhaps you should just disclose that we are dating and let the cards fall where they may after that.”

      “I’d have to ask my boss,” she said. “Actually, that sounds like the best option. Most people won’t guess that we have any other arrangement.”

      “Exactly. A win-win. You get your story, I get your body and we both leave happy.”

      She tipped her head to the side, staring at him askance. “Happy?”

      “I think so,” he said. And he’d be in control of the article. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before.

      “Okay, so I want two different stories from you. The first is strictly about the dating industry and your involvement with the venture. I’ll include the stuff you mentioned earlier about vetting gold diggers, that sort of thing.”

      “Fine. That’s no problem at all,” he said, glancing at his calendar to see what would have to be moved so he could spend the rest of the day with Nichole. In her arms. It looked like the mistress deal was in the bag.

      “The second story will be about the effect your father’s betrayal has had on your own dating habits and maybe your sister’s. I think it’s interesting that she is the home guru yet single.”

      “No.”

      “No? To what part?” she asked.

      “All of it. I’m not talking about my father. I’m certainly not talking about Jane.”

      “I want two stories,” she said.

      “I will not talk about my private life,” he said. “There’s no merit to it other than gossip and you said you weren’t that type of reporter.”

      “I’m not. I think it’s a human-interest story. There are readers out there who want to know what happened to you. They watched you grow up—”

      “Too bad. I’m afraid that’s a deal breaker for me,” he said.

      She retreated around the desk, back to the guest chair. He could tell her mind was going one hundred miles an hour trying to come up with something else to tempt him. But he knew the mistress deal was over. He wasn’t going to talk about his father—ever.

      He never had and never wanted to. His father was nothing more than part of a past that Conner had already forgotten. “I think we’re through here.”

      “Are we?” she asked. “I’m willing to settle for a different type of story.”

      “The one on dating?” he asked.

      “Definitely, but also one on you. Maybe as a corporate raider,” she said. “You have done some amazing things with failing companies.”

      “Yes,

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