Free IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC. by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page A

dangle Sadie, who clearly disapproved of him, in his face just to make him squirm? Well, this Sadie certainly was sexy, but he squirmed for no woman. Of course, Cimil would know that.
    It makes no sense. What is that evil goddess up to?
    The little meat wench pounded on the door. “Hurry up in there!”
    He stared at the door. Hmmm… So Cimil wanted this sexy little vixen to teach him to “act” like a gentlemen so he could impress this Charlotte woman. However, everyone knew that mates were drawn to one another, so he’d bet that Cimil’s little speech about wooing had been a lie. Besides, even if he managed to woo the woman for a few minutes by behaving like some pompous, smooth-tongued Dapper Dan, what purpose would that serve? He was who he was—deadly, fierce, loyal, and…did he mention deadly? He was unapologetically male and damned proud of it. So this Charlotte, whoever she was, would have to love him for his true self: a three-hundred-year-old—give or take a few decades—immortal assassin. An ancient lethal warrior.
    That settles it. I’m not going to play along.
    He then thought about Matty. If Cimil wasn’t lying, then he could derail her little life.
    Andrus blew out a breath.
    “Hey! Are you touching yourself again?” Sadie pounded on the door. “What are you? Sixteen? Do that on your own sweet time!”
    Andrus had an idea. Cimil had obviously promised Sadie something in return for playing a part in the little plan. She had to be in on it. I’ll seduce the truth out of this little minx and turn her to Team Andrus.
    He slid on his cutoffs, grabbed his leather, steel-toed boots, and took a look in the mirror. He smiled and then pivoted to look at his ass. “Hmmm…not bad.”
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    Sadie had argued in the hotel parking lot with the big man for ten entire minutes before she finally gave in. They would take his outrageously earth-unfriendly gas-guzzler to the beach instead of her fuel-efficient, emerald-green, hybrid Kia Soul.
    She sat in the passenger seat as he loaded her beach gear into the back of his black SUV. “This is completely ridiculous. You will fit in my car. You’re not a hippopotamus!”
    He hopped into the driver’s side and shut his door, gloating like a smug jackass. “Sorry. However, cocks like mine need a little breathing room.”
    She rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of yourself. I’m surprised you don’t tow around a trailer on the back of this thing just to carry around your ego.”
    He cranked the engine and snickered. “Or to carry around my enormous cock.”
    Oh my God. This guy… “It’s a good thing you’re not lacking in the self-love department, because I can’t imagine anyone being able to put up with you.”
    He turned his body, about to back out, but stopped and looked at her with smoldering eyes. “I promise not to judge you when you finally admit to wanting me, my fierce little rabbit.”
    Fierce little rabbit? “My name is Sadie. Sadie Townsend. And I promise not to laugh at you when you start crying because it finally sinks in I will never want you.”
    At least for more than just a few little glances at your body and the occasional sex dream, which absolutely doesn’t count because I have no control over those.
    “Sadie,” he purred her name in a deep, velvety, bedroom voice. “It means princess.” He reached over and traced his finger along her collarbone. “But I think I shall call you Sexy Sadie, like the song.”
    For a brief moment, her body trembled from the sensual sensation of him touching her skin. Wait. Why’s he hitting on me? Did he sense her lack of interest and now felt it necessary to prove to himself that he could get her into bed?
    Why do I always attract the aggressive lunatics? For example, the last guy she went out with, before Tim, turned out to be a stalker. No. A real one. After just one date, he started showing up at her apartment late at night, to her work, and followed her to the grocery