“Good grief.” Rising, Caitlyn took a step towards the windows and stretched her back, yawning. “Thick hair. Thin hair. Curly hair. Straight hair. Long hair. Short hair. No hair. Brown. Blond. Black. Red. Who cares this much about hair?” she groaned. “I just want someone I can talk to and appreciate Italy with for sixteen days. How can the rest of this stuff possibly matter?”
Spying her through the glass wall, Rachel rose and came back to the room quickly. “Everything alright? Oh.” She did a double-take, glancing at the computer-generated composite image emerging agonizingly slow from the ceaseless stream of intrusive questions Caitlyn had been trying to answer since this morning. “Wow. You have impeccable taste.”
Caitlyn inhaled deeply. “You said to answer the questions truthfully. Th-the more truthful the answers, the—.”
“The better the match,” Rachel finished, repeating the instructions she’d given before lunch. “That’s true. What I didn’t expect is how quickly you’d finish them.”
“‘Quickly’? I’ve been working on this all day. It’s nearly time to go home and I’m not finished.”
“Most women take a week to get this far. You know yourself well—know your likes and dislikes.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she paced the few steps to stand directly before the wall monitor, studying the three-dimensional image resolving there as Caitlyn completed the questions. “Is this what your late husband looked like?” Rachel asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“Alex?” Caught off guard, Caitlyn’s brows rose. She glanced up at the monitor. “I—no. He was smaller. Not particularly athletic. A doctor—like me. But personable.”
Rachel smiled. “I’ve reviewed your personality profile, Caitlyn. You’re shy, sure, but you’re also ‘personable’. In fact, I think you have an incredible sense of humor and a charmingly dry wit. Your husband was a fortunate man. The same is true for the Duke who goes with you.”
Taking an awkward step forward, Caitlyn wrung her hands together. “A-about that. How will I—how will I know who—?”
“Who your Duke is? Well, aside from he should match as many of your physical characteristics as he can, I would hope there’d be an instant chemistry. We’re doing a lot of work to find you someone with a complementary temperament to yours.”
“So, he’ll know who I am? A-and introduce himself?”
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Rachel took a step back to stare at the monitor again, an idea about which Duke to pair with Caitlyn already emerging in her head. “Yes, he’ll know who you are. Remember, the point of all this legwork in advance is to make as well-suited of a companion available for you. Once, we’ve determined the best possible attendant, then he’ll get some schooling in your needs and tastes and try to make his introduction as comfortable and organic-seeming as he can.”
“‘Organic’. Good grief, this is all so weird,” Caitlyn muttered.
Rachel pivoted immediately. “It’s definitely a non-traditional way to meet someone, but between the varying online pairing platforms, speed dating, chat groups and the like, I don’t think it’s any stranger. It’s definitely safer. And there’s no obligation on your part. The Duke Agency will find you someone to keep you company and make your trip enjoyable, and when it’s over, you go home happy. We guarantee it, or you get every penny back.”
“What—what about him? What if I suck? Or-or he doesn’t like me?”
Rachel laughed, a bright twinkly sound like crystal bells that Caitlyn, with her breathy whisper of a voice envied. “It’s his job to like you. And the entire point of all these questions. To find you someone who can make your trip special as naturally for you both as possible. If it’s any comfort at all, I’ve already got a few awesome Dukes in mind.”
Internally, Caitlyn groaned. It was not comforting. Not in the least.
“Final call for boarding. Flight 175 to Philadelphia at gate B34,” a gate attendant announced over the loudspeaker as Caitlyn strolled her carry-on past, searching the signs overhead for her own gate number. “Passenger D. Carter, that’s passenger D. Carter, please. D. Carter, report to the ticketing counter at gate B37, please,” urged another voice. Despite the early hour, the airport was already bustling with activity. People chattered to one another from the nearby seating areas, or rushed by headed for other connections—some searching overhead, like her, and others with their faces buried in their phones. Turning sideways, she quickly dodged one such oblivious traveler, a tall, handsome young man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts in a particularly careless rush. “I beg your pardon,” she mumbled as he brushed past without even noticing her. Stopping, she watched his retreating figure and felt the butterflies leap in her belly. Obv
“The Duke Agency. This is Janna. How may I direct your call?” Janna. Oh geez. He didn’t have time for this, he thought, rolling his eyes. “Janna. It’s Dex. I need to talk to Rachel immediately.” “Dex? Who?” God. Kill me. “Dex Isaac. I work as a Duke.” “Oh! Hi, Dex!” Janna replied with her usual brainless perk and he could hear her shuffling around the few things she was allowed to keep on her desk. “Rachel’s with a client right now. I’ll have to take a message.” He all but groaned, his eyes fixed across the gate at a seated couple chatting and smiling at one another. “No message, Janna. This is an emergency. I’m about to board a plane and I need to talk to Rachel about our Maddox client.” “Caitlyn Maddox? She leaves today.” Oh sure, the client she’s only met a couple times she knows. Dex heaved a patient sigh. His mother had always told him: ‘you can be pretty, or you can be smart’. The sentiment fit Janna to a tee. The girl wa
“Caitlyn.”A shiver rippled over her at the sound of his voice. She turned and cuddled into his chest before settling again. Much as he needed to, Duke couldn’t bring himself to attempt to rouse her.Something peculiar fluttered through his chest, settling there lightly. Something more than his usual protective instinct. He cursed himself silently. She was the job, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t die to keep her safe. But this?This was something else entirely.Caitlyn Maddox had him— hook, line and sinker— from the minute she’d spoken his name. That one arched brow over those great big toffee-colored eyes and that teasing little smile on her absolutely luscious lips.His mission briefing hadn’t prepared him for her.Neither had the grainy images taken at a distance of a mousy-looking researcher. Which she might be. She definitely gave off an air of fragility and the social ineptitude of a genius savant.But this tallish, slender woman with the figure of a centerfold certainly didn’
From his seat nearby, Dex subtly noted every interaction between Caitlyn Maddox and this fake Duke, his usurper. He had to hand it to the self-professed west Texan—the guy was good. Rachel really needed to find out where he was from and who’d trained him. During the early hours of the ten-hour flight, he’d kept Caitlyn talking—the general chitty-chat getting-to-know someone that sets people—well, women really—at ease. This wannabe Duke had created a credible and reassuring backstory for himself, then extracted Caitlyn’s, even a few things she hadn’t revealed during her onboarding process with The Duke Agency. The guy picked up fast when something made her uncomfortable, and smoothed over his blunders with a cool confidence that was truly enviable. Seemingly without effort, he charmed the socks right off of her. Once their shitty airline meal had been served, he’d started with the wine—a surprisingly good offering of Italian blends, generously served in unending quant
“That went faster than I expected.” Caitlyn covered her yawn with a hand, then reached high over her head with both arms in a long stretch. “You mean Customs? Or the flight?” Duke asked, tucking the handle of her roller luggage in as he parked it beside his, then loading it under the bus while the driver worked on other bags. Standing upright, he watched her, enjoying the view. “Both.” Beyond them in the trees lining the airport’s bus parking, a bird trilled an unfamiliar song and she turned her attention towards it. Coming alongside her, Duke bent, hoisting her carry-on bag onto his own shoulder opposite his backpack, then took her elbow, directing her towards the nearest of the two bus entrances. “Twenty-five isn’t a large group. Plus, I think we got lucky. We must’ve been the first international flight landing in that terminal. Did you see the line behind us?” Ahead of him, she shook her brown, delightful head and climbed the three stairs to the bu
Frowning, Caitlyn powered her phone off, then tucked it back into her shoulder bag and zipped it closed moodily. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with that thing.” “We’ll use mine.” Reaching into his breast pocket, Duke pulled out his phone, then unlocked the touchscreen and handed it to her. “Do you have an international plan?” Without a second thought, Caitlyn accepted it from him, immediately ducking her head and accessing an internet browser. “Of course, I do, but obviously something’s not set up right. I’m not sure how I can fix it either when I can’t get service to call or message them.” Reaching out, he wrapped a large hand around her upper arm, pulling her out of the press of people traffic and into the protective shelter of his hulking frame. “You can use mine when we get back to the hotel.” Not that it would make any difference. It would be after call hours and Duke had no intention of letting her out of his sight even if she did have phone service,
Caitlyn yielded, her entire body turning to mush as his tongue delved inside her mouth, fluttering over hers. Feeling her concession, Duke deepened the kiss, and was soon plundering the sweetness there aggressively, as if he could never get enough. Maybe he couldn’t. Though she trembled in his tightening arms, she was anything but cold. After so long alone, so long lost, his touch felt like the first of spring’s thaw, breaking the back of a harsh, endless winter. She closed her eyes, arching her neck, silently begging for everything his talented mouth would give. Taking as he wanted, Duke fed hungrily there, and she let him. She savored his answering desire, her fingers knotting into the soft cotton of his t-shirt then releasing in an unconscious come hither, flattening again over the solid wall of muscle beneath them. Leaning harder into him, she tentatively brushed her tongue past his, raking it along the edge of his front teeth. He stiffened as the
“We should get gelato,” Duke stated as they emerged from the restaurant. The sun had shifted noticeably, but in the alleyway sandwiched between two multi-storied buildings as they were, that was as much information as he could glean with a quick scan of their environment. He glanced down at his watch. Pivoting, Caitlyn stopped a few steps away from him. “Gelato!? We just finished a three-course meal with appetizers and a bunch of wine! You can’t possibly be hungry!” He flashed her one of his beaming smiles. “Oh, I could,” he assured her, his grin growing broader as the implication of his words and the way his green eyes roved her body drew yet another of her fetching blushes. “Come on, darlin’. We’re in Italy!” He turned around once in place, his arms open. “When in Italy, you eat gelato. Besides, our meal took almost three hours. In my world, that’s time for a snack.” She snorted, shaking her head in astonishment. “I’ve no idea where you put it all.”