Chapter 2
“It’s not going to work.”
Raven stared at her friend, willing Bailey to understand that one can’t force someone to do something that they aren’t ready to do.
“He’s miserable, Raven,” Bailey explained, leaning forward as far as her pregnant belly would allow. “Underneath that grumbly exterior, Tim is a brilliant, sweet, amazing man.”
Raven snorted. “Sweet?” she repeated in a disbelieving tone. “I’ve met the man, Bailey. There’s nothing sweet about Tim Armstrong.” She shifted, uncrossing then recrossing her legs in the opposite direction. “He doesn’t even believe in what I do. When I met him back in Sidrina, he told me psychology was pop-science.”
“He doesn’t understand what you do,” Bailey argued.
Raven glared at her friend. “He said I was a shyster.”
Bailey cringed, but didn’t relent. She put her hands on her knees, her tone adamant. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re not going to help a man who genuinely needs your expertise because he said something mean to you?”
Raven laughed. “Yes!”
Bailey stared at Raven, watching her features. Then she smiled, shaking her head. “No. Your heart is too soft to ignore someone who is in pain.”
At eight fifty the following morning, Raven carefully stepped into the laboratory and looked around with fascination. She was curious about the various experiments and test tubes filled with colorful substances, but she had to admit, she was more curious to see Timothy Armstrong again. She’d met him in Sidrina, but the man had irritated her immediately when he’d scowled in her direction. She’d done nothing wrong in that moment other than exist! And then he’d increased her anger when the dratted man responded to her polite greeting with a snarky comment. Granted, she’d acted…unprofessionally when she’d snapped at him in return.
But this was a new day. A new chance to show this jerk that her work wasn’t “pop-science”.
This time, she’d be calm and professional. Her new friends, Bailey and Matteo, had hired her to find the grumpy scientist a romantic partner. Pulling her shoulders back and digging deep for patience, she stepped forward. This was her specialty and she would perform her duties perfectly and professionally, she reminded herself. She would not snap at him. She wouldn’t poke him in the chest as she’d done the last time they’d interacted. And she would not, absolutely would not, get into an argument with him.
After glancing through the glass windows of the laboratory, she still had no idea what was going on with all of that science equipment. Her background was in psychology, not chemistry. The two fields were entirely different.
Taking another deep breath, she hurried down the hallway, following the directions from the lobby receptionist. Finally, she came to the double doors with a plaque that read “Doctor Tim Armstrong”.
Taking a deep breath, Raven pasted a bright, professional smile on her face as she stepped up to the older woman’s desk. “Good morning. I’m Raven Markley. I have an appointment with Doctor Armstrong.”
The woman behind the desk looked up, adjusting the glasses that were perched on the end of her nose. The assistant appeared frazzled and harried. She shifted the heavy glasses higher onto her nose again, then searched for a pen that, at some point, had been behind her ear, but was now missing. When she found one, she didn’t use it for anything. Apparently, she just needed something in her hand.
Finally, the woman managed a tight smile, then gestured to one of the chairs. “Doctor Armstrong will be with you in a moment, Ms. Markley,” she replied, then glanced nervously at the closed door.
Raven understood the look. It screamed, “I hope you get him out of here!”
“Has he been a challenge lately?” Raven whispered conspiratorially. Over lunch with Bailey yesterday, she had heard all about Timothy Armstrong’s abnormally grouchy demeanor. In fact, it had been Raven who had suggested that he probably just needed to get laid.
Never in her wildest imaginings had she expected her friend to suggest that Raven do exactly that for the jerk. The last time Raven had spoken to the Armstrong ass, she’d vowed to stay as far away from the admittedly brilliant scientist as possible.
The man’s flustered assistant opened her mouth to say something, but before she could utter a word, the office door jerked open. The tall, devastatingly handsome, shockingly brilliant, legendary Doctor Timothy Armstrong stalked out. And just as he’d done the last time she’d seen him, he didn’t stop until he was less than a foot away from her.
He was trying to intimidate her. He was almost a head taller than her in her heels and his blue eyes glared down at her, pinning her in place. Intimidation? Interesting, she thought. That’s not the usual reaction she received from new clients.
Normally, that wasn’t a problem. But this guy was so tall! And his shoulders were…really wide and unexpectedly delicious. She suspected that he’d been a gangly nerd during his high school years, but he had filled out since then. He was now a hard muscled, lithe Adonis who was the envy of every company that dealt with chemicals in any way.
“You’re here,” he snapped, his short, sandy blond hair slightly mussed, making her fingers itch to brush it back in place. He continued to glare down at her and she suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope.
Bristling at his lack of a professional greeting, Raven straightened her shoulders, refusing to back away. She lifted a sarcastic eyebrow and returned his glare with equal intensity. “Obviously, your reputation for brilliance is justified,” she replied without the snarl that he deserved.
There was a moment of silence as both combatants glared at each other. Raven would not back down!
“You’re here to do your voodoo magic on me?” he demanded.
Raven stiffened at the insult. “Are you saying that my process for finding eligible matches between two individuals isn’t based on science?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his charcoal slacks. “I’m saying that your profession is based off feelings. And feelings are usually transient.” He paused. “Am I wrong?”
She wanted to tell him that he was an ass, but remembered that he was now her client and she earned a very large salary to be kind and patient with her clients. Plus, she needed her past clients to tell their friends about her skills and services. Her business was mostly based off word of mouth.
“You’re correct, Doctor Armstrong,” she replied. “However, my process is very effective. I have a master’s degree in psychology and I’ve done extensive research into personalities, ensuring that the people I introduce to each other have a very large probability of success. I do a great deal of research on the people I introduce, with a process based off the latest psychological studies. I’ve matched up thirty-five couples during my career, and all of them are still happily together.”
There was a long silence after that litany. “Shall we go?” he finally snapped.
Go? Where would they “go”? Raven definitely didn’t want to “go” anywhere with him!
He’d stepped away for a moment, bending down to write something on a post-it note.
Raven was confused and peered through the doors behind him. “I thought we would talk in your office,” she asked when he turned toward the door. “What’s wrong with right here?”
He put a hand to her arm, turning her so that they were heading back the way she’d come.
“Just yesterday, I was told by Bailey and Matteo that I needed to get out of the office more. So, we’ll discuss whatever it is that you need to know at the coffee shop down the street.”
Raven wanted to tell him to go to hell. She wanted to jerk her arm out of his grasp and tell him that he could revive his social life on his own time, not hers!
However, talking outside of a business atmosphere was actually a common thing for her to do with her clients. Many of her clients didn’t want their staff to know about her and her services, so they often met with her outside of their work environment.
So, she pasted an overly bright smile on her face, gritted her teeth, and nodded. “That sounds delightful!” she lied. As long as he stopped insulting her methods, she could work with the guy.
Tim grunted in response and she had to restrain herself from turning and stomping on his foot. Instead, she muttered something under her breath and turned around, heading back toward the elevator. They passed by the long hallway and Raven kept her curious gaze away from the activities behind the glass windows. She wasn’t going to ask him anything other than his preferences in women! He’d probably answer in a smug, superior tone, which would just irritate her further.
There were people in laboratory coats walking briskly from the office area through a set of double doors. Everyone badged through from one place to the next. As she walked through to the next area, there was another long hallway with glass walls where there were about a dozen people working with glass tubes and flames and…actually, Raven hadn’t been any good at chemistry. In fact, she’d hated the subject.
However, in order for her methods to work, she needed Doctor Armstrong to give her information. Success was contingent on communication. Besides, Raven wasn’t exactly sure why Doctor Armstrong irritated her so much. Well, besides his insulting attitude towards psychology in general and her profession in particular.
“What’s going on in this area?” she asked, trying to sound like she cared. But it all looked very technical and Raven doubted that she’d understand, even if he deigned to tell her anything.
“Chemistry stuff,” he replied, his deep voice grumbly and irritated as he stabbed the elevator call button. “A psychology buff wouldn’t understand.”
His response pissed her off all over again and she turned, glaring up at him. ‘Psychology buff’? Is that really what he thought of her work?
Stuffing down her anger, she tried very hard to pretend that she wasn’t thinking about wrapping her hands around his throat. “What kinds of stuff?” she asked, tilting her head and stepping back.
Carefully, she watched him, trying to understand his body language and facial features. But he simply pulled back his shoulders and looked down his nose at her as if she were some sort of bug. A bug he wanted to crush under his five thousand dollar loafer.
Granted, Doctor Timothy Armstrong was brilliant. And ridiculously handsome. Hell, the man should be on a football field, not hidden away in a laboratory! Features like his should be on a billboard, advertising men’s underwear. Okay – so the guy couldn’t be both a nerd and a jock. However, Raven didn’t need to make sense. Not at the moment.
Maybe he wasn’t a nerd. Maybe he was a jock. A really smart jock with lots of muscles.
And of course, that image caused her to wonder what he looked like naked.
Darn it! Raven never pictured men, especially her clients, naked! It was definitely not professional!
Client, she reminded herself. Doctor Armstrong was her client! An insulting client with a superiority complex.
Maybe. If his grouchy demeanor was any indication, she suspected the man didn’t want to be her client any more than she wanted to help him.
Thankfully, the elevator door opened and she stepped inside.
As soon as the doors closed, she heard him huff. Raven was just about to turn and give the man a piece of her mind when he surprised her.
“They are working on a formula that will eventually soften fabric without a toxic impact to the environment,” he explained as the elevator quickly moved down through the floors.
She glanced up at him, startled. That’s when she noticed his jaw clenching. Was he irritated by his answer? And why would that irritate him?
Were the experiments a secret? “I don’t reveal secrets,” she announced, then turned to face him directly. “Under no circumstances will I tell anyone anything you tell me.”
He’d been staring at the small lights indicating the descending floors, but with her words, he looked at her, those intense, blue eyes causing her body to do some weird, flippy things. If that gaze was coming from anyone else, she might have suspected that there was some sort of bizarre attraction going on between them. But this was Timothy Armstrong. She literally hated the man. And he hated her! Worse, he didn’t believe she had any skills that could help him.
Okay, yeah, that’s what irritated her the most. That he disrespected her profession.
“Thank you,” he finally replied. Those blue eyes flickered back up to the lights, then to her again. “Everything we do here at Larmpo Industries is top secret. The people on my staff have to go through very intense background checks before they are ever allowed into the lab.” He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before shoving both into his pockets. “I don’t know why I even told you what they were doing. Normally, we don’t discuss our work until we’re ready to take the product to market.”
“I get that. Anything you do or say could end up betraying the trust of your company.” The elevator doors opened up and she stepped out. When he was beside her again, she continued, “It’s the same with me. My clients tell me their deepest desires and I help them find the person who can give them that. Sharing information on that level requires a great deal of trust.” She touched his arm, stopping him and she met his eyes. “I won’t betray your trust.”
For a long moment, he stared into her eyes. And for just a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. Raven kept looking at him, ignoring the growing crick in her neck because of his height. Ignoring the bustle of people moving through the lobby. Ignoring everything but the tingling awareness that seemed to sizzle and spark between them.
It wasn’t until someone bumped into her, breaking the spell, that she was able to take a proper breath. In that same moment, she noticed the fury wash over Tim’s face as he glared at the man who had bumped her.
“I’ll be right back,” he snarled and started towards the man who was halfway to the doors now.
Raven knew exactly what he was thinking and caught up to Tim in two steps. “Don’t,” she whispered. The one word stopped him and he spun around, his jaw tight again. “He didn’t hurt me and we’d stopped in the middle of a busy area.”
He blinked at her, then frowned at the man’s retreating back again. When he turned back to her, she could see his anger was still simmering, but he had it under control again.
“Coffee.”
Raven blinked. The man was certainly curt and to the point!
“Right. Let’s get some coffee and talk,” she agreed, but waited a moment until he turned to head out the door again.
He eyed her curiously, as if he was waiting for her to do the same. Smothering her sigh of frustration, she turned and led the way out of the building.
Sure enough, he lightly touched the small of her back. Yes, it was most likely a gentlemanly thing to do. Many men over the years had done exactly the same gesture. However…however what? What was the issue?
She didn’t like him touching her! He didn’t like her, didn’t respect her and her experience or her job.
So, why had he agreed to let her help him? If the man didn’t think her process was worthwhile, why had Tim Armstrong even agreed to this meeting?
That question seemed to ground her, to bring her back into what she did best. Raven was an expert at “reading” people, understanding their motives, and helping them find a lifelong companion that could enhance their life experiences.
Which was exactly what she needed to do with Doctor Armstrong. Be professional. Ignore that unexpected tingle at his touch and ignore the wish that she could turn and look up at him. Ignore the sensation of feeling…safe wasn’t exactly the right word. But…yeah, walking down the street, she noticed how the man shielded her from the others on the sidewalk. Was that just a habit? Or was it, perhaps, more personal?
Walking down the busy streets of downtown Philadelphia next to Tim Armstrong was a unique experience. Somehow, the stench of the garbage rotting in the alleys and the combustion of the traffic disappeared. She didn’t notice the bits of trash packed into the crevices of the sidewalk. Nor did she feel the heat and humidity that came with Pennsylvania’s summers.
It was…nice!
And…not so nice.
Raven valiantly tried to pretend that she wasn’t aware of the other women glancing at him, many of them doing a double take to get a longer look. Objectively, Raven knew Doctor Armstrong was a very attractive man. Scientifically, she understood their interest. A tall, powerful looking man who was obviously well-dressed was an eye magnet for women. Applying evolutionary logic to the problem, she understood that other woman would be attracted to him.
He was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders and…a swimmer? Nope, she looked at him again, assessing the way he moved. A runner, she decided, and then mentally nodded with approval. Yep, she was sure he was a runner. Most likely, a long distance runner.
Of course, none of that was in the file she’d compiled on him. In fact, there was very little in his file as yet. Raven did as much research as possible on her clients before meeting them, needing to understand what they might want in a spouse. As soon as a client called asking for an initial interview, Raven started researching. By the time she walked into the first meeting, she knew a great deal about the person, sometimes even including their shoe size. She scoured social media and the internet, reading articles written about them or articles that they’d written themselves.
Generally, her clients were wealthy, high powered, and socially savvy. They didn’t have time to find a significant other. Oh, they could easily find a sexual partner, and many of them did so on a regular basis. And thank goodness for that! She often used photos of their previous lovers to assess their current desires for their future spouse.
But Doctor Timothy Armstrong was a mystery. A fascinating, intriguing, obnoxiously handsome and irritatingly arrogant mystery. One that she was going to do her best to figure out, even if it killed her!
“This place has great food and the best coffee around,” he said, gesturing to a quaint shop on the corner. “We can talk in here.”
The place was larger than she’d expected, but still felt like every other pub-style restaurant. The walls were dark, the furniture leather and wood, the floors made of a durable, wood-like material that was sturdier than hardwood. The aromas were similar as well. Every pub in the city smelled the same, she thought, wondering if there was some sort of system to push the various scents into the air or of they all used the same furniture polish.
They stepped up to the line and, because it was nine o’clock in the morning, there was a long line of customers. Raven stood awkwardly in front of Tim, her back tingling, wondering what it would feel like if the good doctor would just wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his chest. She’d love…!
Raven stared straight ahead, mentally reviewing what had just passed through her mind. First of all, Tim Armstrong didn’t seem like the kind of man who would enjoy snuggling, especially not out in public. He seemed more the type to have wild, passionate sex, then jump out of bed to shower and hurry out the door as fast as possible.
Damn it! She wasn’t attracted to the man! In fact, she seriously disliked him! Mentally, she reminded herself of his snide dismissal of her profession. He thought psychology wasn’t as relevant as chemistry. He was an arrogant, smug bastard.
Tim glanced down at her, fisting his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching out. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his chest. He wanted to lean in and bury his nose in her hair, to enjoy the strawberry scent of her shampoo. He wanted to feel her soft curves against his body, to feel her press that irritatingly lush ass against his hips, maybe even brush his forearms against her breasts as he held her close.
He shifted slightly so that she hid his body’s immediate reaction to the images flitting through his head.
Why the hell was he even thinking about wrapping his arms around her? Raven Markley was a woman who spouted nonsensical psychobabble and introduced people, crossing her fingers in the hopes that they would hit it off. She presumably charged exorbitant rates for doing nothing more than facilitating a date.
So, why the hell was he here? Why hadn’t he simply told her that he didn’t need her “skills”. A simple thanks, but no thanks was all the communication required.
He was just trying to be nice, he thought. He’d buy her a cup of coffee then politely tell her that he was fine, that he didn’t need a partner. Afterwards, he’d simply leave and get back to work. He had about fifty emails from his staff and vendors that needed answers. He should review the latest data from the testing they’d done earlier in the week. Expanding Larmpo’s product line was the only way they would stay in business. No, it was the only way to stay ahead in their business.
Tim ordered a cup of coffee, black with none of the frou-frou stuff. He hated that coffee had become “an event” instead of a basic way to stimulate one’s mind. Coffee was coffee, damn it. Adding all of that extra stuff just bastardized something that was perfectly fine on its own.
As soon as he ordered and stepped aside, pulling out his wallet to pay, Raven stepped forward to put in her order. “I’ll have a chai latte with soy and a single pump of sugar free vanilla syrup, please.” And before he had a chance, she’d already tapped her credit card to the payment module.
He scowled at her, not sure if he was more irritated by her frou-frou coffee order or her paying for their drinks. Or perhaps he was more irritated by her triumphant smile.
Whatever, he followed her, carefully not looking at her sexy ass as they walked to the end of the counter to await their order. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to ignore his annoyance.
Psychology. He nearly snorted with disdain. Could there be any valid argument that psychology was a real science? Body language and feelings…that was all loosey goosey stuff that didn’t have a finite result. One couldn’t test a hypothesis. One couldn’t properly duplicate the experiment in order to validate one’s results. Humans were too inconsistent, always changing their minds and actions. Plus, how could one replicate an experiment in real life? In a laboratory, Tim could mix the same chemicals in the precise same sequence and amounts, and validate the results. Humans…that wasn’t possible. The variables were infinite.
In other words, not real science, he mentally decided.
“Black coffee!” the barista called out. The woman who handed him his coffee didn’t even smile, obviously irritated by a drink with zero creativity. Tim almost chuckled as he lifted the cup and stepped back. “Chai latte!” she called out next. Tim watched as Raven moved forward, smiling at the woman as she accepted the coffee. “Thank you so much,” Raven whispered to the barista. Sure enough, the barista beamed in response. “Have a great day,” she replied, then moved away to prepare the next customer’s order.
“I guess only the weird orders get a smile,” he grumbled, gesturing with his coffee cup towards a table near the wall where they could talk in relative privacy.
Raven led the way, winding through the tables, but over her shoulder, she said, “I’m not sure if a person’s order is the impetus for a smile.”
He grunted and sat down. But apparently, Raven wasn’t finished. “There are numerous studies that demonstrate that a retail person’s attitude, polite or rude, is precipitated by the customer.” She peeled the top off her coffee cup and blew on the steaming brew. “In other words, if you’re rude to the person first, they are going to be rude back to you. Conversely, if a customer initiates kindness, they reciprocate.”
Tim glared at her for a moment, noting that she didn’t appear irritated by his grouchy response. “I get your point,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t bother to take the lid off of his coffee cup. He preferred his coffee hot. The burn was part of the drinking experience in his mind.
She simply smiled, then reached into her giant tote bag and pulled out a notebook and pen.
Raven did an odd little flip of the pen, then leaned forward, obviously eager to get started. “Okay, so tell me a little about your ideal woman. What traits are you looking for in your future wife?”
He shook his head. “I’m not looking for a wife,” he explained, trying to soften his voice. “I was trying to tell you that before.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want the complication of a relationship. My life is perfect, just the way it is.”
She tilted her head and Tim felt as if she were seeing all the secrets that he valiantly tried to hide from the world. He was a very private person and didn’t want people prying into his business. And he definitely didn’t want Raven Markley seeing his personal thoughts.
“Is it?” she asked, her tone soft and she added a gentle smile. “You say that your life is perfect just the way it is. But,” and she tilted her head again, “I see a restlessness in your eyes. A yearning for something.” She paused and he froze, staring at her. “Am I wrong?”
He started to nod, then shook his head. “Yes,” he snapped, then sighed. “No.” He leaned forward, cupping the hot coffee in his hands. “I’m struggling to find a balance now that Bailey and Matteo are expecting their first child.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing more complicated than that. My world is changing and I need to adjust to those changes. Adding a relationship into the mix would only complicate things more.”
“Or…” she started, still trying to be gentle, “a positive, romantic relationship with someone might be an excellent person to talk with at the end of the day. Someone who will listen to and understand you. Someone who might grasp how life’s changes affect you.”
Tim didn’t have a response to that. Especially since it sounded…nice.
As soon as the thought passed through his mind, he dismissed it. “I’m fine,” he replied tersely. “How is your coffee?”
Raven glanced down at the chai latte, noted that it was still too hot and smiled at the rigid, almost angry, man sitting across from her. He didn’t think he wanted her help, but Raven had seen the signs. She’d seen the yearning in his eyes when she’d suggested having a partner to talk with at the end of the day. Doctor Timothy Armstrong was a brilliant scientist, but he was clearly struggling with the human side of his world.
Thankfully, that was Raven’s expertise. Suddenly, her anger over his dismissive comments about her profession dissipated. For some reason she wasn’t going to examine too closely, Raven wanted to help Tim more than she’d wanted to help any other client. He was stubborn and completely unaware of his feelings, and that was okay. Because she “got” feelings. Human emotions were fascinating to her!
“Okay, how about this,” she started, changing tactics. “Why don’t you tell me what you didn’t like about the women you’ve dated in the past? I can use that information to weed out some of the candidates.” She lifted her hand, stopping his obvious protest. “I know. You don’t want a partner. But your business partners hired me to find you someone and I’m going to do it. You don’t have to marry anyone. All I do is sift through the possibilities and come up with potential women that might suit your hopes and dreams for the future.”
“What’s the difference between what you do and a dating app?” he asked, looking blank again.
Blank was good, she thought, understanding dawning. When the brilliant doc went blank, he was listening, not rejecting. Raven considered “blank” to be progress!
“Dating apps simply match up two people and allow those people to read each other’s profiles. There are some that are a bit more complex, but they all are basically the same. If a person is looking for a female, the app will give you a list of females in a specific area. You can then see the person’s picture, read their profiles and hobbies. However, my service is more personalized. I get to know each person before I introduce them to each other. I study them in detail. I understand what they want and desire, things that they probably don’t even realize about themselves. I use my behavioral analysis background to see through the fa?ade that each person presents to the world and get to know them personally.”
His eyes narrowed at her explanation and Raven knew that she was getting through to him. Tim wasn’t going to win this battle of wills. “And how often are you right?”
She grinned. “At the moment, I have a ninety-two percent success rate. The people I match up together are either married or in a serious, long term relationship.”
He paused, nodding at that piece of information. Before he spoke again, she noticed that his fingers tightened around the cup slightly. “And you do financial backgrounds on everyone?” he demanded. “I’m not interested in a woman who wants to flirt with me for a steady meal ticket.”
Raven tried to smother the bubble of success at his words. Tim probably didn’t even realize what he’d just revealed, but that was fine with her.
“All of my clients are extremely wealthy. I try to match up couples that understand the challenges and time constraints of wealthy, powerful people. You probably work eighteen hour days, six days a week, don’t you?”
“Yes. Most of the time.”
“And even your evening social activities are generally business oriented, am I correct?”
Tim shrugged dismissively. “Most of the time, yes.”
“So, I use all of that information to compare your likes and dislikes with various women. I’ll find eligible candidates that are in similar types of roles. Or the opposite,” she offered. “If you are looking for a wife who wants to be a stay at home mother, that’s an option as well.” She leaned forward, wrapping her hands around her cooling chai latte. “You tell me what you want in a spouse, and I find it for you.”
He gazed across the age-beaten table at her for a long moment before he asked, “And if the women you present to me aren’t what I’m looking for?”
Raven lifted her hands in the air. “I have a one hundred percent money-back guarantee. If I can’t find you the perfect spouse, then I refund the fee to Bailey.”
In a startling flash, his eyes turned angry. “How much is your fee?”
Raven was undeterred by the abrupt question. She merely smiled back at him and shook her head. “I never discuss my fee with non-paying clients.” Raven laughed at his scowl. “If you’d like to hire me, then I’ll be more than happy to provide you with my fee scale.” When he didn’t reply, she clicked her pen again. “So, are you in? Are you going to tell me the reasons you ended your previous relationships?”
He sighed and looked around but he wasn’t seeing the other patrons. “Fine,” he grumbled and leaned forward. “What do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “First, are you interested in a man or a woman?”
“Woman,” he snapped.
Raven almost laughed at his outraged expression. She wrote that down in her notebook. “Just checking. I never make assumptions.”
“I’m completely heterosexual,” he asserted with a bland, almost amused expression.
“Good to know,” she replied and looked at him again. “So, your last relationship. What was it about the woman,” she emphasized the gender, “that attracted you to her initially?”
Tim shifted in his chair and Raven knew that his discomfort wasn’t physical. The man obviously didn’t like talking about himself. It would be cute, if the guy wasn’t so…so…? What was it about Tim Armstrong that was different from other men? Matteo had a dangerous, almost lethal aura about him. Zahir had that power-thing going for him. There was that duke guy that she’d met at the wedding…Edward something or other…he was interesting, but in a “don’t mess with me” sort of way.
But Tim…she watched as he contemplated his answer. Maybe it was the glaringly obvious intelligence in his blue eyes? Yes, that was true. But there was something more, something…compelling that drew women’s eyes to him. The broad shoulders and height were part of his allure…but there was something more, something deeper that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“I don’t know. She was…pretty, I guess.” His answer startled her, snapping her back to the present. The mystery of the man would have to wait. She needed data.
Glancing down at her notes, she checked her next question. “Do you prefer tall or short women?”
“Tall.”
Well darn! That put her out of the running! “Busty or athletic?”
His hard, commanding lips curled up at the corners with amusement. “Can’t a woman be both?”
She laughed. “Absolutely. However, I use the term ‘athletic’ more as a physical type rather than a preference for sports or activities. It’s more of a…body type, I guess. I don’t like referring to women as flat chested. It feels derogatory. Also, many athletic women eat in a way that lowers their body fat down to levels where their breasts are very small. Some men love that type of body. Other men prefer a different body type. Nothing is wrong or right. Everything is just a preference.”
He angled his head, acknowledging her explanation. “Busty, then,” he replied.
Raven’s breath caught in her chest for a moment when Tim’s eyes lowered to her own breasts. They tingled, and she tried to ignore the sensation and focus on the conversation.
“Full figured or slender?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have a preference there. Women’s bodies are…beautiful.”
Raven wrote that down, trying to hide her blush. Why in the world was she blushing? Goodness, she needed to get a grip on her reactions!
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Do you want children?”
There was no hesitation with his answer this time. “Yes. Absolutely.” He clenched his jaw, then continued, “Eventually. Not immediately. I’d like to know the woman first. Spend a couple years living with her so that we are sure about our relationship before we bring children into the equation.”
She nodded, writing that down. “That’s very logical of you.”
“Are you mocking me?” he demanded, those blue eyes narrowing.
Raven looked at him, smothering her amusement. “Not at all!” she lied. The man was a prickly bear! And she had to admit that she enjoyed poking the handsome bear. It amused her when he lost his temper. Why that was so, she didn’t really understand. She’d sift through her emotions later, when she was alone.
“How many children would you like?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, rubbing his neck again. “I guess two. A boy and a girl.”
Raven didn’t point out that expecting specific genders wasn’t realistic. Although, she knew that science was getting closer.
“Right,” she replied instead, and wrote down several points. “And what about animals?”
He gave her a mock shudder and shook his head. “I don’t want animals. No pets. They are messy and require too much attention.”
Raven thought about the Australian-shepherd-boxer-mutt that her friend had adopted two years ago. “Bean” was the sweetest, most affectionate, adorable animal put on this earth.
“Right. No pets,” she whispered, writing that down as well. “Okay, now we’ll get into the more nuanced stuff.” She put her pen down and took her first sip of her latte. “What personality traits do you require in a spouse?”
He took a moment to consider that question. “Someone logical,” he replied after a moment. “I don’t want a woman who gets all emotional about…whatever. I want someone who goes through life with purpose, without getting irritated when I work too late, or when I forget her birthday, anniversaries, or some random day that she’s made into an arbitrary, significant holiday in her mind.”
Mentally, Raven cringed. It was going to be difficult to find a woman who didn’t care about her birthday or their wedding anniversary.
“What did you do on your last birthday?” she asked, curious now.
He blinked, and then frowned down at the table for a moment, as if trying to remember. “I worked,” he replied with a dismissive shrug.
For some reason, probably a ridiculous, “irrational” reason, that reply made Raven’s heart ache a bit. Tilting her head slightly, she asked, “You didn’t go out for dinner with your friends? Or have lunch with your co-workers?”
“No,” he replied, looking at her curiously. “Why would I?”
For some reason, his comment caused that ache to expand. “You didn’t get any presents?” Obviously, no one in his life had ever taken the time to make his birthday special.
He shrugged. “Bailey and Matteo gave me something. A book and a bottle of my favorite scotch.”
Raven was incredulous! “No cake? No special meal? Nothing?”
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I don’t like cake. And if I want a special meal, then I’ll ask my housekeeper to make it so that it’s ready when I get home from work.”
Well, that was just…sad.
“Right,” she replied and added more notes. When she looked up at him, she continued. “And do you expect your wife to work after you have children? Or will you prefer she stay home with the kids?”
He shrugged. “That’s up to her. I’m not going to dictate what another person does with her life. I will support her with whatever she chooses to do.”
“That’s very egalitarian of you.”
He shook his head. “Not really. I don’t understand men who demand that women stay home and take care of the kids, forcing them to give up their careers. I would be livid if a woman demanded that I stay home with a baby. I would hate the lack of mental stimulation and the tedium of changing diapers. It’s not my thing. So, I would never expect someone else to do that, unless it’s what they chose to do. I will support my wife if that’s her preference without question. But being a stay at home mother is a desire, not a requirement.”
“And what if your spouse has a demanding job? One that requires her to work long hours?”
Again, he shrugged, looking confused. “My job requires long hours. Why would I get upset if my wife has the same demands on her time?”
She tilted her head back and forth. “Some people want their spouse to be home for dinner at night. There’s no right or wrong answer. It’s just another aspect of life that needs to be clarified.”
Tim considered for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t care about that. It’s not important to me to have company when I eat. In fact, I usually bring work home with me at night. My housekeeper always has something prepared for me to simply heat up and I work while eating. So no, I don’t want someone interrupting me during that time period.”
Raven lowered her head to write something down, but in reality, she was starting to wonder if she was wasting her time. This man wasn’t ready for a relationship. He didn’t want to make time in his life for someone special.
Bailey and Matteo might have Tim’s best interests at heart, but Raven suspected that they might need to wait a bit longer before helping him find that special person.
But she’d continue with her efforts for now, just in case. Perhaps if she found the right person, the grouch might snap out of his self-imposed prison of work-sleep-more-work cycle. She’d seen it happen to other couples she’d gotten together. In fact, seeing those couples happy and thriving, their lives changing as they both made compromises because being together was better than what they’d had before – yep, those were some of the best moments in her career. Seeing people happy was so much better than what she’d done before.
If her past career with the FBI occasionally haunted her, well, Raven forced her thoughts away from those what-if moments.
“What just happened?”
Raven heard his question and her head came up. Startled, she looked into Tim’s curious blue eyes. “I’m sorry?”
He tilted his head forward, staring at her intently. “Something just went through your mind. Something…,” his eyes narrowed, and he paused. “I can’t tell if it was bad or good.” Tim shifted in his chair. “What happened?”
Raven shook her head. There wasn’t any chance that she’d discuss her past with him. No way!
“I was just thinking about the couples that I’d gotten together that had a similar attitude.”
“What do you mean? What’s my attitude?”
She smiled and put her pen down. “You have a life that works for you and you can’t imagine changing it for anyone.”
“That’s true. Why did that make you smile?”
Raven chuckled. “Because I’ve introduced those people to someone. When busy people meet that special person, someone that is more important than everything else in their lives, they change. And that compromise, that desire to be with that special person, the person that they love, becomes more important than the other aspects of their life. The things that they’d thought were so important suddenly lose their appeal. Love is more appealing than maintaining their rigid work schedules.”
He snorted and sipped his coffee.
“You don’t believe me?”
Tim set his coffee cup back down before answering. “I don’t believe in love,” he explained. “Love is a way for people to tell themselves that sex is okay.” The muscles around his nose twitched, indicating his dismissal of the idea. “Sex is a natural, human need. I don’t need to pretty up my desires with a non-existent emotion.”
Raven stared at him, trying not to react. But his words tore at the very center of who she was, what she did. Everything about her life and her career focused around love. And yes, she wanted to find love with a man. She wanted the passionate, amazing, overwhelming feeling that swamps a person when they meet the right person.
Obviously, the good doc wasn’t that person!
Nor had she ever thought about him that way, Raven reminded herself firmly.
So, why did she feel this deep stabbing pain? It was merely disappointment, she told herself. No, not disappointment. That would indicate that she’d hoped for…something to happen between herself and Tim. She felt….regret. Yes, that was it. She felt regret that Tim wouldn’t ever experience the sweeping, miraculous emotions that she’d witnessed in so many people.
“I’ve upset you,” Tim commented.
She leaned forward and picked up her pen, staring at the words she’d written. Why were they blurry? Raven blinked rapidly and, thankfully, her vision cleared. “Of course not,” she replied. “So, about the women in your past,” she started over, ignoring his “logical” dismissal of one of the most treasured emotions a human being could experience.
And one of the most crushing.
Now, where had that thought come from?
Shaking herself, she forced her thoughts back to the present.
“What do you want to know about them?” he asked.
She inhaled slowly, then let the air out as she concentrated, unaware of the tightening grip on her pen. “What was it about the women in your past that drew your attention? What caught your eye initially?”
Tim took a sip of his scalding hot coffee, wondering why there was a strange sensation in his gut. Looking at the lovely woman with her dark hair and crystal blue eyes, he wasn’t sure why he felt this pain. She was lovely, of course. But Raven wasn’t the kind of woman that he dated.
Hell, no women were the kind that he dated.
“They approached me,” he blurted out. “I don’t think that anything about them caught my eye. One moment, I’m standing in a group of people and the next, an attractive woman is there, smiling up at me.”
Raven blinked and he almost laughed at her stunned expression. “So, the women you’ve dated in the past were just…convenient?”
He didn’t like the way she’d phrased that. “No. Not at all. I’ve dated some very nice women.”
She grinned. “I’m so relieved that you said ‘women’.”
His hand paused, the coffee halfway to his mouth. “What would I have said?”
She grimaced. “Many men, and some women, for that matter, refer to adult females as ‘girls’. It’s offensive and demeaning.”
He lowered his cup of coffee back down to the table. “Why the hell would you care? It’s still a female. It’s just a word, right?”
She tilted her head and his eyes were immediately drawn to the silky softness of her neck. He wondered where she liked to be kissed. The base of her neck? Or that delightful spot right behind her ear. She wore demure, pearl earrings today. What if he nibbled on her earlobe? Did she like that kind of touch?
“How would you feel if I referred to you as a boy?”
Tim blinked, coming back to the present with a thud. “I haven’t been a boy since…hell, I can’t remember.”
She grinned and he looked at her lips. Soft, full lips, even when she smiled.
“Men have a tendency to infantilize women. I think it helps them feel more powerful and in control when they mentally and verbally refer to a grown woman as a girl. It gives them a feeling of dominance.” She picked up her latte and blew on it. “And yet, when the tables are turned, when men are referred to as boys, they don’t like it.”
He ripped his gaze away from her lips. Would she please stop blowing on that damn coffee? It was distracting.
What had she said? Something about boys and girls and men versus women. “Right,” he mumbled, making a mental note to research the issue later.
“So, the women?” she prompted.
What women? He had to think hard to remember what she’d asked him. She kept blowing on her damn coffee! “Right. The women I’ve dated.” He sighed, feeling very uncomfortable talking about his past lovers with Raven without being able to put his finger on why. “I don’t like talking about them.”
“You don’t have to tell me specifics about the women you’ve dated,” she continued and he wondered why she kept talking about ‘dating’. He didn’t date. He had lovers. When he had a sexual urge, he’d call up the current woman he was…whatever. And if she was in the mood, they’d meet, have sex. Afterwards, they’d both go back to their lives. It was a simple matter of two people coming together to offer mutual sexual release.
“They were tall,” he blurted out, suddenly needing to fill the silence.
“Tall?” she repeated, her voice sounding shocked.
He nodded, relieved that he finally had something concrete to offer. “I’m six feet, four inches tall. And the women in my past have been tall.”
She tilted her head again. His eyes were again drawn to her neck. Damn her, was she doing that on purpose? It was driving him nuts
“So, you prefer tall women.”
Neck. Height? What the hell was she talking about? Tim glanced down at her notebook and saw a couple of words. Thankfully, her notes brought him back to the present and he was able to answer. “Not necessarily,” he countered
“I’m sorry?”
He shrugged. “You asked me about the women in my past. I told you that they were tall. But that’s not necessarily my preference.”
Her lips did that puckering thing and he realized that it was a thoughtful expression. She was trying to make sense of something.
“Okay, so you’re saying that the women you’ve dated in the past were tall. But that’s not necessarily your preference.”
He pretended to think about that for a moment, but in reality, he was contemplating kissing her. Did she like hard kisses? Or soft, coaxing ones?
“I don’t think I have a height preference, but–”
She shook her head and stood up. “Stand up and check my height,” she ordered.
Tim looked at her, fighting not to notice her breasts that were right at eye level. Okay, not “right” at his eye level. He had to tilt his head back a bit.
“Tim?” she prompted.
He sighed and stood. Immediately, he breathed in her strawberry scent. Damn, he liked that smell! He’d have to figure out how to bottle that scent. Tim hadn’t experimented with scents, other than to ensure that the products Larmpo Industries released to the markets didn’t smell awful. But with that strawberry scent wafting up to his nostrils, he wondered why they weren’t trying to manufacture specific scents. Because whatever perfume she was wearing was intoxicating.
“So, am I too short?” Raven prompted. “What’s the ideal height?”
He blinked at her, still reeling from her delicious scent.
“I don’t think I have a height preference,” he replied, astonished that his voice sounded so gravelly. Quickly, he lowered himself back into his seat and took another sip of his coffee. As the heat burned down his throat, he felt more grounded.
Until she sat down again. She wore a silk blouse and…with her pale skin, Raven shouldn’t look good in white. White should blanch her out. And yet, somehow, the white silk made her look…flushed.
Interesting, he thought.
Then his eyes dropped to the V formed by her blouse. He couldn’t tell if they were big or small because the sweater was too bulky. He wanted to order her to wear a blouse instead. That way, he could better assess her figure.
Instead, Tim pressed his lips together, refusing to make a fool of himself. Yeah, he knew that he was sometimes clueless about human reactions, but even he knew that ordering a woman to wear a tight sweater, one that was pink…no blue…yes, blue to match her eyes…that would be a bad thing.
“So any height,” she concluded, nodding and writing something in that notebook. Earlier, Tim had become irritated by her notes, but now, he realized that every time she wrote something in that annoying notebook, he got a shadowy glimpse of her cleavage. Damn, he felt like a pathetic voyeur, peeking at that shadow. And yet, he couldn’t look away, even though he knew it was wrong.
“What about hair color?”
His eyes lifted to her nearly black hair. “Dark,” he replied.
She blinked and he wondered what her eyes would look like when she climaxed.
“You haven’t dated any blonds?”
Of course he had. But that was irrelevant. This time, he shook his head, blatantly lying. “I prefer the contrast of dark hair against pale skin.” He realized how that might come across, especially since he was staring at her pale skin and dark hair. “Irish,” he clarified. Now, where the hell had that come from? He could just imagine his Irish friend, Sean’s, expression if he ever heard that Tim was attracted to Irish looking women.
Yeah, he was losing it. And his logical brain rebelled at the idea. But there was something inside of him, something new and unfamiliar, that accepted the illogical responses he was giving to Raven.
“Eye color?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say “Blue.” But he restrained himself just in time. “I don’t often notice eye color,” he lied again.
“Good. That gives me more options.” She leaned back, reviewing her notes. Then asked, “What about careers? Are you looking for someone just like you? Or the opposite?”
Suddenly, he noticed a couple behind her. They were snapping at each other in hushed tones, both obviously angry. The man reached for her arm, but the woman pulled away, pointing her forefinger at the man. From this distance, he couldn’t hear their conversation. But from the expression on her features, as well as the man’s, it was obvious that she was saying something along the lines of “Don’t you dare!” before she turned and stalked out of the coffee shop.
“Tim?” Raven prompted.
Only after ensuring that the man wasn’t going to follow the woman did he turn back to Raven. Then he sighed, that logical half of his brain kicking into high gear. “I think it would be best if I was mated with someone who was as logical as I am, preferably someone who is also in the chemistry industry. I would like to be able to talk about my work when I get home. I’d like that person to understand what I’m talking about.” He downed the last of his coffee, cringing because it was now cold. “And I’d like to hear what she is doing as well.” He looked up, noticing a soft understanding in Raven’s eyes. That twisting sensation hit him anew and he still didn’t understand it, so he ignored the feeling.
“Anything else?”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she looked down at her notes. She’d taken several pages of scrawled notes and he couldn’t decipher her handwriting when it was upside down like that. But he wanted to read her observations.
Hell, he wanted to toss her notebook away and pull her into his arms.
What the hell? Where had that thought come from?
“Not that I can think of,” he finally replied.
Raven smiled and he felt his gut tighten.
“Okay, well, let me do some research. If you trust me, I’d love to do a little digging into the women you’ve dated in the past. It will help me understand the kind of women you prefer.”
“They aren’t in my life for a reason,” he said, standing up and taking both of their empty cups, tossing them in the trash before he turned back to her.
“It’s still useful information. If I know the women you’ve dated in the past, then I can eliminate those kinds of women going forward.”
He thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll email you a list of the women over the past year or so.”
He didn’t like the surprise in her eyes when he mentioned women, as in plural women that he’d been with over the past twelve months. Still, he figured he should attempt to be honest with her.
“Would you mind telling me what you liked or disliked about each person? That would also be helpful.”
Tim considered for a moment. “I’ll see what I can do. Although, I’m not sure that’s going to be useful information.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t emotionally involved with them.” He put a hand to the small of her back, but didn’t touch her. He didn’t think that would be wise. Not with the scent of strawberries filling his nostrils and making him think of…how did the scent of strawberries conjure up images of Raven’s dark hair spread out over his pillow? Nope, that image didn’t make any sense, so he banished it from his mind.
She stopped on the sidewalk, staring up at him. “But…you had sex with them, right? You were in a committed relationship with them.”
He chuckled and touched her arm, urging her to keep walking since they had stopped in the middle of a busy sidewalk. “Yes, sex was involved. No, emotions were not.”
She was adorable, thinking that sex always had to have emotional connections in some way.
They walked along the sidewalk silently now. He kept glancing at her, wondering what was going through her mind. She frowned thoughtfully and shook her head. He could tell that she was having a silent conversation in her head and wanted to laugh out loud.
However, they were now back at his office building. She stopped and stepped away from him. “I’ll let you get back to work,” she told him.
“Thank you,” he replied, but hesitated. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and nodded. “Really, thanks.”
Tim turned and walked into the building. The whole way back to his office, he kept thinking that the ideal woman was Raven. Even though he knew she wasn’t the ideal woman! They were opposites in so many ways. Plus, he could tell from the look in her eyes that she disapproved of his lack of belief in love. She was clearly the type to conflate sex and love, which meant he needed to stay as far away from her as possible.
Mike sat up straighter in the driver’s seat of the car, his heart pounding with excitement when the couple stepped out of the café. They hadn’t eaten anything, just drank coffee. But he’d sat in the car, imagining what the bitch had been telling the bastard. Was she talking about him? Was the beauty-queen regaling the tall ass about how she’d cornered Mike in an abandoned warehouse?
The bitch would pay for that afternoon. It had taken him over an hour of crawling through mud and muck to get away from the FBI team that day. And for what? He hadn’t killed anyone that didn’t deserve to die!
The FBI team had struggled to track Mike down until she’d joined the team. Raven Markley. The bitch had some sort of sorcery that enabled her to find people. He didn’t understand exactly what she’d done, but the FBI team that had been investigating him up until that point had no idea who he was until she’d joined the team.
So, now she was going to pay!