Matched to Her Rival - Kat Cantrell

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her notes before starting on the personality questions.

      That went easily, too. In fact, she didn’t even have to glance at the scribbled words in her notebook.

      Do you want to be in love? She typed yes. He did, he just hadn’t found the right person yet, or he wouldn’t have agreed to be matched. Plus, she’d watched his face when he described a woman who didn’t care about whatever he hid behind his curtain. That man wanted to connect really, really badly with someone who got him.

      How do you sabotage relationships? She snorted and typed “by only dating women he has no chance of falling in love with.”

      When she reached the last question, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not so bad. Thank goodness she wouldn’t have to see him again. A quick phone call to set up his first meet with the match and she’d be done with Dax Wakefield.

      She hit Save and ran the match algorithm. Results came back instantly. Fantastic. She might even treat herself to half a carton of Chunky Monkey as a reward. She clicked on the pop-up link and Dax’s match was...Elise Arundel.

      No! She blinked, but the letters didn’t change.

      That was so wrong, she couldn’t even put words together to say how wrong.

      She ran the compiler again. Elise Arundel.

      Stomach cramping with dread, she vised her temples. That’s what she got for not asking him all the questions. For letting her professional ethics slide away in the wake of the whirlwind named Dax.

      He’d think she did it on purpose—because she’d started to fall for his slick charm. If she actually told him she was his match, he’d smirk with that knowing glint in his eyes and...

      She’d skewed the results. That had to be it. Talk about your Freudian slipups—she’d been thinking about the almost-kiss and the almost-naked pictures and his laugh and thus answered the questions incorrectly.

      Besides, the short, fat girl inside could never be enough to change Dax Wakefield’s mind about love. She had to match him with someone else.

      Her fingers shook and she could hardly type, but those answers had to change. He didn’t want to be in love. Total projection on her part to say that he did, exactly as he’d accused her of earlier. She fixed that one, then the next one and eventually worked her way back through the profile

      There. She clicked Run and shut her eyes.

      This time, the pop-up opened to reveal...Candace Waters.

      Perfect. Candy was a gorgeous blonde with a high-school education. Dax would love running intellectual circles around her and Candy liked football. They’d get along famously.

      No one ever had to know Elise had nearly screwed up.

       Four

      When an unrecognized number flashed on Dax’s phone, he almost didn’t answer it.

      Instead of working, as he should be, he’d been watching his phone, hoping Elise might call today.

      He couldn’t get that moment against the car out of his head, that brief flicker in her gaze that said she didn’t hate him anymore and better yet, didn’t see him as a match to be pawned off on some other female. Before he’d had time to explore what she did feel, she’d bolted, leaving him to wonder if he’d imagined it.

      He should call her already. It was only a conversation to schedule the next session, which would likely be the last. What was the big deal about calling? It wasn’t as if she’d answer the main line at EA International anyway. He could schedule the appointment through Angie and go on with his day.

      The quicker they finished the sessions, the closer Elise would be to be finding him a match, at which point he’d prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Elise’s matchmaking service fronted as a school for gold diggers. Then, the cold place inside that had developed during the rift with Leo could be warmed nicely by the flames of EA International roasting on the morning news.

      A prospect that held less and less appeal the more time he spent with Elise.

      The dilemma ate at him, and if he didn’t see her again, he didn’t have to think about it. That’s why he didn’t call.

      But Dax answered his phone, mentally preparing to spiel off a contract’s status or sales figures—pending the caller’s identification. “Wakefield.”

      “It’s Elise Arundel.” The smooth syllables hit him in all the right places. “Do you have a few minutes?”

      He should have called her. Elise had a sexy phone voice.

      Grinning like a loon for who knew what reason, Dax settled back in his chair and put his feet out. “Depends on what for. If it’s lightning round two, yes.”

      Elise’s chuckle was a little on the nervous side. “I’m afraid that’s not the reason for my call. Actually, I have good news on that front. More sessions aren’t required after all. I’ve got your match.”

      Oh, wow. This thing had just become nauseatingly real.

      “Already? That is good news,” Dax said heartily. It was good news. The best. He didn’t have to see Elise again, exactly as he wanted.

      And a little voice inside was singing, Liar, liar, pants on fire.

      “So,” Elise chimed in quickly, “I’m calling to set up your first meet with your match, Candace. She prefers to be called Candy, though.”

      “Candy.” That was something you ate, not someone you dated, and sounded suspiciously like a name for a coed. “She’s legal, right?”

      “You mean is she over the age of eighteen?” Elise’s withering tone put the grin back on his face. “What kind of matchmaker do you take me for? She’s twenty-eight and works as a paralegal for Browne and Morgan.”

      “Just checking. What’s the drill? I’m supposed to call her and set up a date or something?”

      “That’s up to you. I’ve emailed her picture to you, and I’ve sent yours to her. If you’re both agreeable to meeting, I’d be happy to coordinate or you can go it alone from here.”

      Curiosity got the best of him and he shouldered the phone to his ear so he could click through his email. There it was—“Sender: Elise Arundel, Subject: Candace Waters.” He opened it and a picture of Candy popped onto the screen.

      Holy hell. She was gorgeous. Like men-falling-over-themselves-to-get-her-a-drink gorgeous. Not at all what he was expecting. “Is she one of your makeover success stories?”

      If so, Elise might have a bit more magic in her wand than he’d credited.

      “Not everyone is in need of a makeover. Candy came to me as is.”

      Nice. Not a gold digger then. He took a closer look. She was blonde-with-a-capital-B, wearing a wicked smile that promised she had the moves to back it up. He would have noticed her across the room in a heartbeat.

      For the first time, he got an inkling that this whole deal might be legitimate. “She’ll do.”

      Then he returned to planet earth. There was a much greater chance that Candy had something really wrong with her if she’d resorted to a matchmaker to find a date.

      “I had a feeling you’d like her,” Elise said wryly. “She’s perfect for you.”

      Because something was really wrong with him too?

      Elise was obviously running around wielding her psychology degree like a blunt instrument. She’d probably come up with all kinds of bogus analyses about his inability to commit and his mama issues—bogus because he didn’t have a problem committing as long as the thing had Wakefield Media stamped on it. Females were a different story. He’d die before letting a woman down the way his mother had

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