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my matchmaking abilities.” Elise sat back in her chair. The farther away she was from Pretty Boy, the better. “So if you find true love, you’ll agree to advertise my business. As a satisfied client.”

      His eyebrows shot up and the evidence of surprise gave her a little thrill that she wasn’t at all ashamed to wallow in.

      If this had been about anything other than EA International, the company she’d breathed life into for seven years, she’d have been at a loss for words, stumbling around looking for the exit.

      But attacking her business made it personal. And for what? Because his friend had broken the guy code? Dax needed someone to blame for Leo’s falling in love with Dannie, obviously, not that he’d admit it. Elise made a convenient scapegoat.

      “You want me to advertise your services?” Incredulity laced his deep voice.

      “If you find love, sure. I should get something out of this experiment, too. A satisfied client is the best reference.” A satisfied client who’d previously denounced her skill set in public was worth more than a million dollars in advertising. “I’ll even waive my fee if you do.”

      “Now you’ve got me curious. What’s the going rate for true love these days?”

      “Five hundred thousand dollars,” she said flatly.

      “That’s outrageous.” But he looked impressed nonetheless. About time she got his attention.

      “I have dozens of clients who disagree. I guarantee my fees, too. If you don’t find your soul mate, I refund your money. Well, not yours,” she conceded with a nod. “You get to put me out of business.”

      That’s when she realized her mistake. You could only find a soul mate for someone who had a soul. Dax Wakefield had obviously sold his a long time ago. This was never going to work. Her code would probably chew him up and spit him out.

      She had to get off this stage before all these eyes and lights and camera lenses baked her like a pie.

      Rubbing his hands together with something resembling glee, he winked. “A proposition I can’t lose. I’m so on board with that, I’ll even do you one better than a simple reference. Five hundred K buys a fifteen-second spot during the Super Bowl. If you pull a rabbit out of your hat and match me with my true love, I’ll sing your praises right before halftime in a commercial starring moi.”

      “You will not.” She let her gaze travel over his smooth, too-handsome face, searching for a clue to his real intentions.

      Nothing but sincerity radiated back. “I will. Except I won’t have to. You’ll need a lot more than smoke and mirrors to win.”

      Win. As though this was a race.

      “Why, because even if you fall in love, you’ll pretend you haven’t?”

      A lethal edge sharpened his expression. “I gave you my word, Ms. Arundel. I might be a cynic, but I’m not a liar.”

      She’d offended him. His edges smoothed out so quickly, she would have thought she’d imagined it. But she knew what she’d seen. Dax Wakefield would not allow himself to win any other way than fair and square. And that decided it.

      This...contest between them was about her as much as it was about EA International. As much about Dax’s views on love and relationships versus hers. If she matched him with his soul mate—not if, when—she’d prove once and for all that it didn’t matter what she looked like on the outside. Matching people who wanted to fall in love was easy. Finding a match for a self-professed cynic would be a stellar achievement worthy of everyone’s praise.

      Her brain was her best asset and she’d demonstrate it publicly. The short fat girl inside who wanted her mother to love her regardless of Elise’s weight and height would finally be vanquished.

      “Then it’s a deal.” Without hesitation, she slid her hand into his and shook on it.

      Something bold and electric passed between them, but she refused to even glance at their joined fingers. Unfortunately, whatever it was that felt dangerous and the slightest bit thrilling came from deep inside her and needed only Dax’s dark gaze to intensify it.

      Oh, goodness. What had she just agreed to?

       Two

      The uncut footage was exceptional. Elise Arundel glowed on camera, just as Dax thought she would. The woman was stunning, animated. A real live wire. He peered at the monitor over the producer’s shoulder and earned a withering glare from the man trying to do his job.

      “Fine,” Dax conceded with a nod to the producer. “Finish editing it and air the interview. It’s solid.”

      Dallas’s answer to a fairy godmother was going to wave her magic wand and give KDLS the highest ratings the news show had seen in two weeks. Maybe even in this whole fiscal year.

      It was totally worth having to go through the motions of whatever ridiculous process Ms. Arundel cooked up. The failure to find him a soul mate would be so humiliating, Dax might not even go through with denouncing her company afterward.

      But that all depended on how miserable Elise deliberately tried to make him. He had no doubt she’d give it her best shot.

      Within fifteen minutes, the producer had the interview clip queued and ready. The station crew watched it unfold on the monitors. As Dax hammered the matchmaker, she held her own. The camera even captured the one instance she’d caught him off balance.

      Okay, so it had happened twice, but no one other than Dax would notice—he was nothing if not a master at ensuring that everyone saw him precisely as he meant for them to.

      Elise Arundel was something else, he’d give her that.

      Shame those great legs were attached to such a misguided romantic, whom he should hate a lot more than he actually did. She’d refused to take any crap and the one-up she’d laid on him with the satisfied client bit...well, she’d done exactly what he’d have done in her shoes.

      It had been kind of awesome. Or it would have been if he’d escaped without agreeing to put his name in her computer.

      Dax spent the rest of the day immersed in meetings with the station crew, hammering each department as easily as he had Elise. They had some preliminary numbers by lunch on the fairy godmother interview—and they were very good indeed—but one stellar day of ratings would not begin to make up for the last quarter.

      As Dax slid into the driver’s seat of his Audi, his phone beeped and he thumbed up the text message.

      Jenna: You could have dates lined up with five different women? Since you’re about to meet the love of your life...which is apparently not me...let’s make it four. I never want to see you again.

      Dax cursed. How bad was it that he’d forgotten Jenna would most assuredly watch the program? Maybe the worse crime was the fact that he’d forgotten entirely about the redhead he’d been dating for four—no, five—weeks. Or was it closer to six?

      He cursed again. That relationship had stretched past its expiration date, but he’d been reluctant to give it up. Obviously Jenna had read more into it than she should have. They’d been having fun and he’d told her that was the extent of it. Regardless, she deserved better than to find out she had more of an investment than Dax from a TV program.

      He was officially the worst sort of dog and should be shot.

      Next time, he’d be clearer up front—Dax Wakefield subscribed to the Pleasure Principle. He liked his women fun, sexy and above all, unattached. Anything deeper than that was work, which he had enough of. Women should be about decadent indulgence. If it didn’t feel good, why do it?

      He drove home to the loft he’d bought in Deep Ellum before it was trendy and mentally scrolled through his contacts for just such a woman. Not one name jumped out. Probably

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