Matched To Mr Right. Kat Cantrell

played a serious game of gin rummy. Her mother sounded happy.

      Relieved, Dannie went into the bathroom, where she had left half a cosmetic counter’s inventory strewn across the marble vanity. She took a few minutes to organize it in the drawers, which had built-in compartments of different sizes. The bathroom alone was bigger than her entire apartment.

      Dannie agonized over what to wear and finally selected a simple pale lavender skirt and dove-gray button-up shirt. Her small wardrobe of coordinated pieces had been another gift from Elise. She was between sizes so everything had to be altered, adding yet more cost to the already expensive clothes. Shoes, however, posed no problems whatsoever. She stepped into a pair of calfskin sling backs that fit as if they’d been custom-made for her foot, then redid her chignon and makeup.

      Who was that woman in the mirror?

      “Daniella Reynolds,” she whispered to her reflection, then said it louder to get used to the sound of it. Only telemarketers and her grandmother called her Daniella. She liked the way Leo said it, though.

      Since it was far past time to assume her duties as hostess to Leo’s parents, she navigated downstairs with only one wrong turn.

      Leo was not in the lavishly appointed living room. Or the kitchen, or any of the other maze of rooms on the first floor. Finally she spied his dark head bent over the desk in his study, where he was clearly engrossed in the dollar signs marching across his laptop screen.

      Leo was working. Gee. What a shock. Why hadn’t she thought to check his study first? Wishful thinking?

      For a moment, she watched him, curious to see her husband unguarded. Towering bookshelves lined the room and should have dwarfed the man in it. They didn’t. Leo’s persona dominated the room. He’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves to midforearm. With his hair slightly rumpled, he was kind of adorable.

      He glanced up with a distracted, lopsided half smile and her stomach flipped with a long, feminine pull. Okay, he was more than adorable. He was quite delicious and thoroughly untouchable, a combination she suddenly found irresistible. Her inner Scarlett conjured up a naughty mental scenario involving that red-hot lingerie and Leo’s desk. Hey, here’s a bottom line you can check out.

      “Busy?” she croaked and cleared her throat. Duh. Of course he was.

      “I’m, uh, just finishing up.” He shot a furtive glance at his laptop as if the screen contained something shamefully un-work-related.

      “What are you doing? Watching YouTube videos?” Shut up, Scarlett. It was none of her business whether he was monitoring stock prices or carousing in a role-playing-game forum. “I mean...”

      Well, there was really no recovery for that slip.

      “No.” He shut the lid and she thought that would be the end of it. But then his mouth twitched. “I mentor college students online. I was walking through a business plan with one. Via chat.”

      “That’s wonderful.” What in the world was shameful about that? “They must really pay close attention when they see your name pop up. That’s like winning the mentor lottery.”

      Her new husband was so generous and kind. Of course he was. Elise wouldn’t have matched her with this man otherwise.

      “I mentor anonymously.”

      “Oh. Why?”

      “The business world is—” Flustered, he threaded fingers through his already slightly rumpled hair and she itched to smooth it back for him. “Let’s just say my competitors won’t hesitate to pounce on weakness. I don’t present them with any.”

      Mentoring the next generation of businessmen could be perceived as a weakness? “Richard Branson mentors young kids. I don’t see why he can do it, but you can’t.”

      “He’s considered successful.” The unspoken I’m not hung in the air, but Leo stood and rolled his sleeves down, then rounded the desk, clearly signaling the end of the conversation. “Shall we?”

      Her mouth fell open and she clamped it closed, swallowing the dozens of questions that sprang to her lips. His expression had closed off and even she could read the tread-with-caution sign. “Of course.”

      The doorbell rang and she trailed Leo to the foyer to meet Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. Leo introduced his parents and Dannie shook hands with smiling, silver-haired Mr. Reynolds.

      The spritely woman with Leo’s dark hair bounded into the house and swept Dannie up in a fierce hug. “I’m so happy to meet you!”

      “I’m happy to meet you, too, Mrs. Reynolds.” Dannie breathed in her new mother-in-law’s perfume, which reminded her of vanilla cookies.

      “Oh, please. I’m Susan.”

      “I’m sorry, but I was expecting someone...” Cold. Unforgiving. Judgmental. “...older.”

      Susan laughed. “Aren’t you sweet? Come with me to the kitchen and let Leo talk to his father while we fetch drinks.”

      After a glance at Leo to gauge the appropriateness, Dannie followed Susan into the kitchen and proceeded to watch while Leo’s mother bustled around gathering glasses and chattering as if they were old friends. Obviously Susan felt comfortable in her son’s house. Unlike her son’s wife. Dannie wouldn’t have known which cabinet contained glasses.

      “I apologize for missing the ceremony, Daniella.” Susan handed her a glass of tea and touched her shoulder. “It was a stupid, useless protest. But I’m mad at Leo, not you.”

      “Oh.” She had to find a new response. That one was wearing thin. But it had been so appropriate. All day.

      “He’s just so...Leo. You know?” Susan sighed dramatically and Dannie nodded, though she didn’t know. But she’d like to. “Too focused. Too intense. Too everything but what matters.”

      No way was she letting that pass. “What matters?”

      “Life. Love. Grandchildren.” With narrow eyes, Susan peered at Dannie. “Did he tell you that he draws?”

      The tea she’d just sipped almost went down the wrong pipe. “Draws what?”

      Susan snorted. “That’s what I thought. Leo would rather die than let anyone know he does something frivolous. He can draw anything. Animals. Landscapes. Bridges and buildings. He’s very talented. Like his namesake.”

      “Leo was named after someone who draws?” She envisioned a stooped grandfather doodling cartoon characters on the back of a grocery list.

      “Leonardo da Vinci.”

      Dannie nearly dropped her tea. Leo’s full name was Leonardo? Not Leonard? She’d noticed the little extra squiggle at the end of his name on the marriage license but had been so fixated on signing her own name she hadn’t thought anything of it.

      It shouldn’t matter. But it did.

      She’d married a man with a romantic name who created art from nothing more than pen and paper. She wanted to see something he’d drawn. Better yet, she wanted him to voluntarily show it to her. To share a deep-seated piece of himself. To connect with his wife.

      Leo’s mother had torn open a tiny corner of her son’s personality and it whipped up a fervor to tear away more. They’d been matched and Dannie hungered to learn what they might share beyond a love of books, family and commitment.

      “Daniella.” Susan crooked her finger and Dannie leaned in. “I get that your marriage to my son is some kind of arrangement and presumably, that’s all right with you. I won’t pry. But Leo needs someone to love him, someone he can love in return, and neither will come easy. If it’s not going to be you, please step aside.”

      Her pulse hammered in her throat. This marriage was nothing more than a means to an end. An arrangement between two people based on compatibility, not love—exactly what she’d signed up for. But nothing close to