Page 20 of Unlikely Match

A sweet-faced, middle-aged receptionist jumps to her feet. "It's all ready, Mr. McKagan."

He turns me toward the reception area, with luxurious leather seating scattered about. The wall at the end is a flat, medium gray, until a projection appears. My first drawing is five feet tall, suspended in the center of the space. After several seconds it fades away, and the second one appears. Then the third.

"We have a bunch of new clients visiting next week." Alex's fingers gently squeeze my hip. "We've been wanting to get some new, innovative art. Something that says we're cutting edge and classic at the same time. If we had a collection of your beautiful drawings, it could be a constantly evolving art piece. Of course you can fiddle with the system to adjust the sizing, and how they fade in and out."

My lips are barely open, but it feels like my jaw is on the floor. Finally I manage to whisper, "You really are a creative guy."

His smile is a beam of light. "What can I say. You inspire me."

Alex squeezes my hand, then walks me down a short hallway, past a large conference room. "There's room for a few more drawings in there. I'm going to need some for my own workspace, too."

On the way to his massive corner office, he nods at his employees, and my heart leaps. He's making his point quite clearly. He's never going to hide me, or pretend that we aren't together. By showing me off to his entire office staff, and wanting my artwork all over his business, he's telling me that what we have is far more than physical.

I still need to hear him say it, though.

Once we're standing in front of the floor to ceiling window behind his massive black steel desk, Alex turns me to him.

"No gray areas." His fingertips skim my hair, and his palms cup my face. "One of the reasons I love your artwork is because it's pure black and white. Clear. Like I should have been Friday night."

My heart is pounding as I listen, ready to analyze every syllable he utters.

"So this is me being as clear as possible. I don't want you to think for a second that I want to hide you. Yes, you're younger. Yes, you're a beautiful, vibrant artist, and I'm a stodgy businessman. Maybe we're an unlikely match on paper…" He trails off and chuckles. "Honestly, I still don't know whether Dora actually ran us through her matchmaking system thing, or whether we were just the two leftovers. But I don't think it matters, do you?"

"Are you saying that you think we really match?"

"I do." His lips softly brush my forehead. "I adore everything about you, Jewel. I think that we could bring each other balance. And I think that we have a lot more than our obvious physical chemistry."

He stares deeply into my eyes, then frowns. "I know that's what you must've worried about, sweetheart. We went much too far, much too fast. I guess we were just caught up in the moment. I know I was. But I was so overwhelmed that I forgot to tell you something important."

My breath is shaky. "What's that?"

"Although I find you the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I've ever met, I like your mind even more. Your fresh ways of seeing things, your fascinating observations. You are beautiful inside and out and I'm falling so hard for you that I don't even know how to tell you that I'm positive we belong together without babbling like an idiot."

My hands begin to shake. "Tell me you feel the same way," he whispers urgently. "Please."

The second I begin to nod, he kisses me softly. His huge body wraps around mine in a sensual embrace that I feel all the way down to my toes. "You're my precious Jewel, and yes that's cheesy but I'm sorry I'm going to call you that forever."

He said all the right words. He thinks we're real. He's not afraid to think about the future.

"I'm thinking about all of that, too," I murmur. "But I've never said things like that before."

Alex grins, then sits in his desk chair, pulling me onto his lap. "I've never been in a serious relationship before," he admits. "So you're going to have to train me. Tell me everything you need."

"I don't think I need anything."

"Not true. You need an art studio. You said so yourself. That will be taken care of. I think you also need that dream vacation to London. We'll figure that out."

I try to think of what to say, then my head jerks to the door where someone is clearing their throat.

"Excuse me, Mr. McKagan. Just dropping off the financials for the McKinley project." A man in a dark navy suit drops a thick folder onto a table.

"Thanks, John. This is my girlfriend, Jewel."

He smiles, nodding politely. "That must be your artwork I just saw in the lobby. Exquisite. Just what we need around here – a fresh, modern update."

He nods again and disappears, as Alex's arms squeeze me tight. He doesn't seem to care in the slightest that this might be an undignified position. "See? My staff already know about you. They're going to learn to love you as well." He chuckles. "We won't sit like this when there are clients around, of course."

Staring into his eyes, my breath stops. This is suddenly completely and utterly real.

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