Manhattan Boss, Diamond Proposal. Trish Wylie

let you jump the line, seeing we’re friends…’

      ‘Gee, thanks.’

      ‘You believe in love at first sight now as well, I s’pose?’ Erin leaned her elbows on the chequered tablecloth and challenged Quinn.

      ‘Nope.’ He shook his head and lifted his hand to draw a mouthful of liquid from the moisture-beaded bottle. ‘Lust at first sight? That’s a different story.’

      He clinked his bottle with Evan’s in a display of male bonding that made Clare roll her eyes again.

      ‘And we wonder why you three are still single.’

      Quinn’s face remained impassive. ‘I still maintain you can’t use the ‘finding soulmates’ tag line on business cards. It’s false advertising…’

      ‘Soulmates exist—you ask anyone.’ She reached for her wine glass while Erin and Rachel agreed with her.

      Quinn nodded. ‘Yep, right up there with chubby cherubs carrying bows and arrows. They had a real problem with one of them stopping traffic on East Thirtieth a while back—it was on CNN…’

      Morgan almost choked on a mouthful of beer.

      Taking a sip of wine and swirling the remaining liquid in her glass while she formulated a reply, Clare waited until Quinn had thanked the waitress for his slice of pie.

      And then, despite deeply resenting the fact that she felt the need to justify her fledgling business, she kept her tone purposefully determined. ‘Soulmates are simply people who are the right fit for each other. That means finding someone with common goals and needs, someone who wants what you want out of life and is prepared to stick with you for the long haul, even when things get tough—’

      ‘You go, girl!’

      Madison winked while Clare kept her gaze fixed on Quinn, watching him stare back with a blank expression so she couldn’t tell what he thought of her mission statement.

      She persisted. ‘What I do is put a person looking for commitment with someone who feels the same way they do about life. That’s all. Whether or not it works is up to them. I’m the middle man in a business deal, if you want to put it in terms you’ll understand.’

      Quinn’s eyes narrowed a barely perceptible amount. ‘And now who’s the cynic?’

      She set her glass down on the table and leaned forwards. ‘If I was a cynic would I even bother in the first place? People need other people, Quinn; it’s a fact of life.’

      ‘And meeting the right guy’s not easy—you ask any girl in New York.’

      Erin’s words raised a small smile from Clare. ‘No, it’s not. But men in the city find it just as tough as the women, especially when they both have busy careers.’

      Quinn set his bottle lightly on the table, lifting a fork. ‘You don’t feel the need to go out and date any, though, do you? Hardly a good ad for your business: the matchmaker who can’t find a match…I think this is your way of avoiding getting back in the game when everybody at this table thinks it’s about time you did.’

      Clare gritted her teeth. He could be so annoying when he put his mind to it.

      ‘Clare will date when she’s ready to—won’t you, hon?’ Madison smiled a smile that managed to translate as sympathy into Clare’s eyes.

      But Clare didn’t need any help when it came to dealing with Quinn. She’d been doing it long enough not to be fazed. ‘It’s not that I’m not ready, it’s—’

      ‘Jamie wasn’t a good example of American guys, O’Connor—you need to get back out there.’

      The words drew her gaze swiftly back to his face, and her answer was laced with rising anger. ‘And how am I supposed to find the time to date anyone when I spend so much time with you?’

      It stunned the table into an uneasy silence; all eyes focused on Quinn as he frowned in response. ‘So I’m your cover now, am I?’

      She opened her mouth, but he’d already shrugged and returned his attention to his plate, digging forcefully with the edge of his fork. ‘Funny how it hasn’t stopped me finding time to date in the last year.’

      Now, there was the understatement of the century! Without looking round the table to confirm it, Clare felt five pairs of eyes focusing on her. Waiting…

      She damped her lips before answering. ‘So long as the relationship doesn’t last more than five or six weeks, right?’

      The eyes focused on Quinn, who shrugged again. ‘You know by then if there’s any point wasting your time or theirs.’

      ‘And you’re too busy to waste any time, right?’ Which kind of proved her point.

      ‘Still made the time to begin with, didn’t I?’

      Okay, he had her on that one. But before she could get herself out of the hole she’d apparently just dug for herself, he added, ‘Maybe I should just save myself some of that precious time by getting you to find my ‘soulmate’ for me. Then I can settle down to producing another generation of heartbreakers and you can stop using me as a stand-in husband.’

      Clare inhaled sharply, her lips moving to form the name for him that had immediately jumped into the front of her brain.

      But Erin was already jumping to her defence. ‘That was uncalled-for, Quinn.’

      ‘Yet apparently overdue.’ The fork clattered onto the side of his plate before he leaned back, lifting his arms and arching his back in a lazy stretch. ‘Can’t fix a problem if I don’t know it exists in the first place, can I?’

      He said it calmly, but Clare knew he wasn’t happy. So she made an attempt at humour to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. ‘And why bother finding a wife when I fill eight out of ten criteria for the job every day, right?’ She added a small smile so he’d know she was kidding. ‘Maybe I’m your cover?’

      The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Okay, then, since we’re in such an unhealthy relationship—you find my mythical soulmate and I’ll not only get out of your way, I’ll get off your case about the matchmaking too.’

      Evan’s deep voice broke the sudden stunned silence with words that would seal her fate: ‘She’ll never in a million years find someone for you to settle down with.’

      And that did it—Clare had had enough of her fledgling business being the butt of the guys’ jokes. So it was a knee-jerk reaction.

      ‘Wanna bet?’ She folded her arms across her breasts and lifted a brow at Evan. But when Evan held his hands up in surrender, she looked back at Quinn. To find him smiling the merest hint of a smile back at her, as if he’d just won some kind of victory.

      So she lifted her chin higher, to let him know he hadn’t won a darn thing. ‘Well?’

      ‘You win, you can do matchmaker nights at the clubs and I’ll split the door with you.’

      What? Her heart raced at the very idea, a world of possibilities growing so fast in her mind that she skimmed over the fact that the offer had been made so quickly. Almost as if he’d planned what to wager before the bet had been made. But she wasn’t blinded enough by the business potential not to ask the obvious. ‘And if I lose?’

      Quinn cocked his head. ‘Having doubts about your capabilities already, O’Connor?’

      ‘Simply making the terms clear in front of witnesses. And if you’re trying to claim you’ve only been playing the field all these years because you haven’t met the right girl, then I guarantee you—I’ll find you a girl who can last way longer than six weeks…’

      ‘Wanna bet?’ The smile grew.

      Which only egged