Seduce me if you dare

The Secret Matchmaker Series Book 1

L.N. Pearl

Copyright © 2015 by L.N. Pearl. All rights reserved worldwide.

No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author/publisher or the terms relayed to you herein.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Book description:

Guys like us don’t do love. My best friend and I never fell for anyone and I wasn’t thinking about settling down before the accident.

When Geoff suddenly died in a car crash, things changed. Actually, everything changed. Being the only one at his funeral was a wakeup call: I didn’t want to end up like him. I needed to find the right one. The perfect woman to share my life with.

So I did the unthinkable: I hired an elite matchmaking agency.

There’s just one problem. My matchmaker is smart, competent and extremely hot… and she was my one night stand last night.

Note: this is the first book out of five in the series. Contains explicit language for a mature audience only.

Table of Contents

Prologue

1 - Lila

2 - Asher

3 - Lila

4 - Asher

5 - Lila

6 - Asher

7 - Lila

8 - Asher

Prologue

I glanced at my watch one more time before sitting back in the old wooden pew. Surely the time was off, or maybe I’d written down the wrong day.

The old priest at the front of the room glanced up from the podium and gave me a weary smile, his grey eyes tired from a long life, no doubt.

"Well, looks like it's just going to be us, my new friend. And Geoff, of course," he said, as he gave a smile that almost looked forced.

I held in a painful sigh.

The small funeral home sanctuary was empty, except for me, the priest and the dead body of my best friend.

No one else.

No one.

I glanced behind me again and turned, giving the priest my attention as horror rolled over me in waves far too consuming to escape. How the fuck Geoff didn't have anyone at his funeral was beyond me. He was a playboy—a rich, strong, funny guy. Or was he?

I swallowed hard and tried to tune out the soft music in the background that spoke of grace and peace, knowing that the room might look quite similar if I had been in the car accident instead of my closest friend.

He was a user. A people user.

So was I.

We could tell great jokes and leave women breathless, but investing in anything other than financial gain wasn't part of our strategy. Love 'em and leave them wanting more had been the battle cry of our earlier years, but what I’d failed to realize—and was reeling from now—was that it hadn't changed as we grew into maturity.

"Only thirty-five and yet Geoff has finished his race. May the grace of..."

I turned the old man off, blocking his kindness and sinking deeper into the pew. The hardened wood pressed into my back and forced reality down my throat. I'd spent the last thirty-five years of my life taking from everyone without half of them even really knowing it was happening, and I had a lot, a fucking lot, to show for it, but...

Who would be here if this were my funeral?

My shit, my investments, my used up women—none of them had legs strong enough to carry them to the belly of loss—not that they would care anyway.

A long sigh left me and I moved to the edge of the pew and slid my fingers through my hair as I closed my eyes. Something had to change. I’d looked into a matchmaking service, but I needed to get serious about it.

Geoff's life was lost to his own gratification, as mine had been. At this very moment in life when you'd hope people would come and show their support for the man, here I sat alone. No one cared for him, and quite simply, he hadn’t cared for them either. It was beyond depressing.

Hundreds of parties with millions of friends had been a part of this wild man's life. That and racing cars with thousands of fans yelling in the background, and yet...

"Fuck," I whispered and stood up, not caring about the rest of the message. I didn't need it. The stark reality that I was headed down the same road wasn't lost on me.

This was going to require a quick change, but I had to find her. The one. The one person I could actually share with. I could share myself, share my stuff, and maybe by investing myself in her as well, I would wind up with at least one person that would weep when I was gone. But could there be even more? Did I want more?

1 - Lila

"Perfect," I purred at the image in the mirror before me. The long black and gold sequined dress cost a fortune, but judging by the way it fit me, it was worth it every penny.

Turning slightly, I slid my hand over my ass and smirked in the mirror. It was going to be a fun night, but it always was at Blaze. The club was in the heart of L.A. and the music was the very freshest off the streets.

Stars lined the dance floors on Thursday nights and bouncers walked the edge of the floor with a level of intimidation guaranteed to give grown men the shits. I chuckled, and turned back, leaning in toward the mirror, and opening my makeup bag a little wider.

I had thirty minutes before the stretch limo was headed my way. There was no fucking way I was driving. That would just leave me stuck with a car I didn't plan on needing by the end of the night.

I glanced to my left and let my eyes move back and forth between the two pairs of shoes that best matched the dress that currently clung to every curve. My fingers pressed along the slope of my nose, enhancing the shadows on my face to get the attention of those who knew how to appreciate a well-dressed woman.

"Definitely the black Louboutin pumps," I murmured and turned back to the mirror, pushing my waist-length chestnut hair off my shoulders. Working quickly, I applied a bit more powder, leaving a golden sheen in the right areas, then outlined my eyes to make them more drawing. A cat-like look was almost appropriate for how I was feeling. Someone wanted a girl who purred, and if he had looks, money and a big cock..., I could purr as good as the next girl, and the way I was feeling… better, definitely better.

The time of being committed to someone and a good girl all the time had passed. Life hadn't handed out rings and church bells, but instead, a heaping dose of heartache and deceit.

"Not thinking about it tonight," I murmured and smiled sardonically before reaching for a glossy red lipstick to accentuate the fullness of my lips. Nothing pissed me off more than to have someone asking if I’d had Botox shots.

"No. They're naturally kissable. Wanna?" I puckered up to be silly for a few minutes since I was the only critic available for my performance.

My phone buzzed beside me and I let out a short yelp. Time to go. The car was waiting for me in the front of my apartment complex.

I slipped on my shoes while holding the door frame tightly to keep from tumbling over. Turning, I checked myself out one more time and squirted a little perfume under my neck and between my breasts, which hovered just above the V-neck cut of my dress.

My ID, credit card and lipstick were tucked next to a single key to my apartment, in a tiny black clutch that matched my dress perfectly.

"Time to score a client or a man for the night. Either will work... but both would be bliss." I walked quickly to the elevator and slipped in as a group of teenage boys turned my way and stood there in stony silence.