Matched to Her Rival. Kat Cantrell
a habit she’d noticed he fell into when she made the wheels in his convoluted head turn. Good.
“You’re much more talented than I imagined,” he allowed with a jerk of his chin. “I’m so impressed, I’m going to tell you why. It’s so I can buy her something she’d genuinely appreciate and give it to her on our next date.”
So the woman in question would sleep with him, no doubt. And it probably never failed. “Another example of a considerate man?”
“Sure. Women like to be treated well. I like women. Ergo, it’s no chore to do my best to make them happy.”
There had to be something wrong with that, but she couldn’t find the fault to save her life. Plus, the glow from his compliment still burned brightly. “If only all men subscribed to that theory. What do you find attractive in a woman?”
“Brains,” he said instantly and she didn’t even bother to write that down.
“You can’t tell if a woman has brains from across the room,” she responded drily. “If you walk into a bar, who catches your eye?”
“I don’t meet women in bars, and last time I walked into one, I got four stitches right here.” He tapped his left eyebrow, which was bisected by a faint line, and his chagrined smile was so infectious, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Okay, you win that round. But I have to note something. Redhead, blonde? Voluptuous, athletic?”
“Would you believe it if I said I have no preference? Or at least that used to be true.” He swept her with a sizzling once-over that curled her toes involuntarily. “I might be reconsidering.”
“The more you try to unsettle me, the less it works,” she advised him and cursed the catch in her throat that told him her actual state far better than her words. This was ridiculous and getting them nowhere. “You promised to take this seriously and all I know about you so far is that distraction and verbal sleight of hand are your standard operating procedure. What are you hiding?”
The flicker of astonishment darting through his expression vanished when a knock sounded on the door. Dang it. She’d hardly begun to dig into the good stuff.
Elise’s assistant, Angie, stuck her head in and said, “Your next appointment is here.”
Both she and Dax shot startled glances at their watches. When he hadn’t shown, she’d scheduled another appointment. How had the minutes vanished so quickly?
He stood immediately. “I’m late for a meeting.”
What did it say that they’d both lost track of the hour? She nodded. “Tomorrow, then. Same time, same bat channel?”
He grinned. “You’ve got yourself a date, Ms. Arundel.”
Dax whistled a nameless tune as he pulled open the door to EA International. Deliberately late, and not at all sorry.
Today, he was in charge, and Elise would not get the drop on him again. He’d give her enough information to make it seem that he was going along willingly, simultaneously dragging out their interaction a little longer. Long enough to figure out what about Elise got under his skin, anyway. Then he was done here.
“Morning, Angie.” Dax smiled at the receptionist and handed her the vase of stargazer lilies he’d brought. “For you. Is Ms. Arundel’s calendar free?”
Angie moistened her lips and smiled in return. “Cleared, just as you requested yesterday. Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
“I’ll show myself to Ms. Arundel’s office.” He winked. “Don’t tell her I’m coming. It’s a surprise.”
When Dax blew through the door of Elise’s office, the location of which he’d noted yesterday on his way out, the look on her face was more wary disbelief than surprise.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” was all she said and ignored him in favor of typing on her laptop. The clacking was too rhythmic to produce actual comprehensible sentences.
Faking it. For him. Warmed his heart.
“I’m taking you to lunch,” he informed her. “Get your handbag and shut that thing down.”
That earned her attention. She pierced him with that laser-sharp gaze he suspected had the power to drill right through his skull and read his mind like a book. “Are you this egotistical with all women? I’m shocked you ever get a second date.”
“Yet I do. Have lunch with me and you’ll find out why.” He quirked a brow at her and pulled out the big guns. “Unless you’re afraid.”
She didn’t scowl, didn’t immediately negate the statement. Instead, she smiled and clicked the laptop closed. “Can’t stand being under the spotlight, can you? If you don’t like the setting I use to walk through the profile questions, just tell me.”
A spontaneous and unexpected laugh shot from his mouth. Why was it such a surprise that she was on to him?
He held up both hands. “I surrender. You’re right. That little room with the fish book is like being in therapy. Restaurants are more relaxed.”
Elise opened a desk drawer and withdrew a brown leather bag. “Since my schedule is mysteriously clear, lunch it is. On one condition.” She cocked her head, sending her dark hair swinging against her chin. “Don’t evade, change the subject or try to outsmart me. Answer the questions so we can be done.”
“Aww. You’re not enjoying this?” He was. It was the most fun he’d had with a woman he wasn’t dating in his life.
“You’re quite honestly the most difficult, disturbing, contrary client I’ve ever dealt with.” She swept passed him in a cloud of unidentifiable perfume that hit him in the solar plexus, and then she shot back over her shoulder, “Which means you’re paying. But I’m driving.”
He grinned and followed her to the parking lot, then slid into the passenger seat of the sleek Corvette she motioned to. He would have opened her door, but she beat him to it.
New car smell wrapped around him. “Nice ride. I pegged you for more of a Toyota girl.”
She shrugged. “Even fairy godmothers like to arrive at the ball in style.”
“I’m not threatened by a woman driving, by the way.” He crossed his arms so he didn’t accidentally brush shoulders with Elise. The seats were really close together. Perfect for lovers. Not so good for business associates. “Just in case you were worried.”
Elise selected an out-of-the-way bistro-type place without asking him and told the hostess they’d prefer to sit outside, also without his input. The wrought iron chairs and tables on the terrace added French charm and the wine list was passable, so he didn’t mind. But two could play that game, so he ordered a bottle of Chianti and nodded to the waiter to pour Elise a glass whether she wanted one or not.
“To loosen you up?” she asked pertly and picked up her glass to sniff the bloodred wine with appreciation.
“Nah. To loosen you up.” He dinged their rims together and watched her drink. Elise liked red wine. He filed that tidbit away. “I didn’t actually agree to your condition, you know.”
“I noticed. I’m banking on the fact that you’re a busy man and can’t continually take time away from work to finish something you don’t want to be doing in the first place. So don’t disappoint me. What’s the difference between love, romance and sex?”
Dax choked on the wine he’d just swallowed and spent his time recovering. “Give a guy a warning before you lay that kind of question on him.”
“Warning. Question imminent. Warning. Question imminent,” she intoned in such a perfect robot voice, he sputtered