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Heir to scandal
  • Текст добавлен: 16 октября 2016, 22:07

Текст книги "Heir to scandal"


Автор книги: Andrea Laurence



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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

“Okay, now I have to ask you an important question. Two, actually. First,” he said, taking the ring from her fingers, “will you, Rosalyn Pierce, give me the honor of your hand in marriage?”

She had been beating herself up for weeks thinking about her last conversation with Xander. How she’d reacted but not listened. How she’d painted him with her father’s brush without giving him the chance to explain how they were different. Tori had been right. She would do anything for Joey. And she knew that Xander would do anything for his family, and that included her and their son. Her father had never cared about anyone but himself.

Saying yes was a risk. Things were still unresolved with the police. But she was more frightened by the idea of saying no and losing him again. She loved him. He accepted her past and the flaws in it. If she wanted to be happy, she needed to do the same.

“Yes,” Rose replied. The answer was barely audible with the cheering in the stands around them, but Xander pushed the ring onto her finger and smiled, so he’d heard her.

“The second question,” he said, “is will you come live with me in D.C.? That town house is so lonely since you left.”

She nodded, although the movement was barely visible before he scooped her into his arms and captured her mouth in a kiss. She melted against him, the heat of the late-summer ball game nowhere near as scorching as the desire building up inside of her.

“I love you, Rose,” he whispered against her lips.

Rose pulled away to look into his eyes. “I love you, too, Xander.”

A cheer went up and the crowd around them leaped to their feet. They both stood to try and figure out what they’d missed. It didn’t take long. It was the top of the sixth, two strikes, and the Lions were still ahead. If the other team didn’t score, the game was over and Joey’s team went to the championship.

Xander reached out for her hand with his own and his fingers entwined with hers. They both waited, barely breathing as the next boy came up to bat. He swung hard at the pitch and it was a pop fly heading straight for Joey in his position as shortstop.

“Oh no,” Rose said, covering her mouth with her other hand. “I hope he can catch that with the glove on the wrong hand.”

It seemed like forever for the ball to come down and when it did, it was nestled safely in Joey’s glove. The game was over. The roar from the surrounding spectators was near deafening. Parents anxiously waited for the teams to give high fives to one another and practice good sportsmanship and then poured onto the grass to celebrate with their kids.

Xander helped Rose down the steps and they found Joey still standing between second and third base, holding the winning ball. He seemed a little stunned.

“Congratulations, baby.” Rose let go of Xander’s hand to swoop in and gather her son in her arms. “You played an excellent game tonight. Best catch ever.”

“Thanks,” Joey said with a grin, and then his eyes widened as they looked over her shoulder. “Xander?”

Her son pulled away to rush Xander as he crouched in the dirt near third base. He caught the boy in his arms, still cautious of the sturdy black brace on his left arm. “Good job, kiddo.”

“I’m glad you made it, Dad.”

“I’m glad I made it, too.”

“Wait, what?” Rose said. They hadn’t had that discussion with him yet. Xander didn’t even flinch. He just smiled wide, his hazel eyes getting a touch glassy.

Xander patted Joey on the shoulder and stood, turning back to her. “He already knew, Rose. He’s more observant than we gave him credit for.”

“How did you know?”

“Joey left a gift for me in my luggage.”

“Did you like it?” Joey perked up.

Xander grinned. “It was the best macaroni-and-Popsicle-stick picture frame ever made in the history of camp.”

“I think we need to go get some ice cream to celebrate,” Rose said.

“Celebrate my win?” Joey asked.

“And some other things.” Rose wiggled her fingers and Joey’s eyes went to the diamond on her hand.

“You guys are getting married? That’s awesome! Are we moving to D.C.? Will I get to meet the president?”

“Whoa, kiddo,” Xander said with a smile. “One thing at a time. Let’s start with ice cream.”

“Xander James Langston!” A woman’s sharp voice cut through the crowd.

“Uh-oh.”

Rose, Xander and Joey all turned and found a red-faced Molly Eden standing a few feet away in a Litchfield Lions T-shirt and jeans. She was usually the spitting image of sweetness and Christmas spirit—a few years and a few pounds from being a walking, talking Mrs. Claus. She looked anything but sweet at the moment. She looked as if she’d caught them sneaking back in after curfew and was about to wear Xander’s rear end out.

Her hands were planted on her hips, her furious gaze shifting between Rose and Xander. Then it was interrupted by a smile curling her lips when she looked at Joey. Ken was behind her, a gentle, restraining hand on her shoulder and a smug grin on his face. Thank goodness for Ken.

“Mama...” Xander started, but he was silenced by Molly raising her hand.

“Don’t start.” She pointed to Joey. “Is that my grandson?”

Rose watched Xander swallow hard and take a deep breath. He looked as though he’d sooner take on Sheriff Duke. “Yes.”

“My ten-year-old grandson?” she clarified.

Rose felt the need to intervene on his behalf. “Yes, but he didn’t know until a few weeks ago.”

Molly nodded. She seemed to accept the excuse, but Rose got the feeling that neither of them were off the hook. “It’s a wonder you kept it a secret that long, Rosalyn. He looks just like Xander did when he came to live with us.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Eden.”

“Lord,” Molly said, eyeing the ring on Rose’s hand and throwing her hands up. “I think you’d better start calling me Mama. Or maybe Grandma. I thought I’d have more time to get used to the name, but here we are.”

Molly turned to focus on their son and a warm smile spread across her face. She took a few steps toward Joey and bent over to look at him eye level. It wouldn’t be long before he was taller than her. “I’ve been waiting a long time for a grandchild. Do you like cookies?”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for grandparents. And I love cookies.”

Tears rushed to Molly’s eyes and Rose felt a similar prickle. “Oh!” Molly gushed, reaching forward to pull the little boy into her arms. “I’m a grandmother!” she yelled to the crowd. A few people turned to look at them with surprise on their faces, but most were still wrapped up in the team’s celebration.

“That went better than I expected,” Xander whispered as he leaned into Rose.

Rose rested her head against his chest and sighed. Everything had gone better than she’d expected. She just had to let go of her fear. Well, maybe not all of it.

Molly’s sharp green gaze turned to Xander and her smile flattened to a frown of displeasure. “You two,” she added, “will be dealt with after I get done enjoying my grandbaby.”

Epilogue

Molly and Ken sat in chairs on the back porch watching Xander and their grandson ride around on a four-wheeler. Rose was on the stairs, watching nervously. Joey was wearing a helmet, but that hardly made her feel better. She’d just gotten her son out of the brace. She wasn’t eager to get a new one put on him. They had a busy few weeks ahead of them. They were finished packing and would leave tomorrow to move down to Washington. They had to get Joey enrolled in school and get settled in a new place. Another injury would certainly handicap the process.

Her attention was pulled away by the sound of a car coming up the gravel drive. It was Sheriff Duke’s squad car. Her heart sank in her chest. She didn’t know what this was about, but a personal visit from the sheriff was never good. The previous sheriff had been the one to come and tell her what her father had done. He’d also told Xander his parents were dead.

The sheriff climbed from his car and made his way over to the back porch. Rose leaped up from her spot and took her place to the right of Molly’s chair.

“Molly, Ken, Rosalyn,” Sheriff Duke said, acknowledging them and frowning as he came up the stairs. “I hate to do this, Ken, but I’m going to have to bring you in for questioning.”

“What?” Molly said, leaping up from her chair. “Questioning about what, Sheriff Duke?”

Rose immediately put her arms around Molly’s shoulders. “Xander!” she cried out into the yard, but he was already on his way.

He climbed up the back steps two at a time with Joey in his wake. “What’s all this about?” he asked.

The sheriff shuffled uncomfortably in his shoes. “I need to take Ken to the station for some official questioning.”

She watched as Xander’s jaw stiffened and his blank politician’s expression fell over his features. “Has there been a break in the case? Last I heard, you didn’t have any leads on what happened after Tommy ran away.”

“You know full well I can’t tell you details about the case, Congressman. The trail leaves off here at the farm and that’s where I intend to pick it up. Let’s please not make a scene about this.”

“Are you arresting him?” Molly asked, her green eyes wide in horror.

“Did he say that, Molly?” Ken said, easing up stiffly from his chair. “He just said he had questions. I’d have questions if I were in his shoes, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t like this, Dad,” Xander said. “You’ve already answered all their questions. What’s really going on, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Duke tightened his jaw and sighed. “Someone killed a kid on your property, Ken. People want to see some progress on this case.”

“So you’re hauling in an innocent man to make your department look more effectual?” Rose couldn’t keep the words from flying from her lips, unhelpful as they might be.

“We’re narrowing down our suspect list,” Sheriff Duke said, his brow furrowing in irritation.

“Oh, Lord,” Molly wailed. “You can’t possibly think Ken killed Tommy.”

“Someone did, Molly.” Sheriff Duke took off his hat and ran his hand over the bald dome of his head in exasperation. “Should I bring Julianne in for questioning instead? Maybe Heath? They were only thirteen when Tommy disappeared, but you never know with kids anymore.”

“This is ridiculous,” Xander said, cutting off his mother before she gave the sheriff a piece of her mind for daring to insinuate her babies were involved. “Dad, that’s it. I don’t want you going in. Not without an attorney present. We’ll call Frank Hartman first. If the sheriff wants you to answer questions, let him arrest you. Otherwise,” Xander said, turning to face the barrel-chested man, “we’re done here.”

Sheriff Duke sighed and reached to his belt for his handcuffs. “Fine. Ken Eden, you’re under arrest for the murder of Thomas Wilder. Anything you say can and will be u—”

“Grandpa!” Joey yelled in alarm.

Everyone turned to look at Ken, whose face had drained of blood and looked an ashy white. His breathing was labored, his hand reaching out to steady himself on Xander’s shoulder.

“Ken? Are you okay?” Sheriff Duke asked.

“I can’t...” he gasped. “My h-heart...” he managed to say before losing consciousness and slipping to the porch with a dull thud.

* * * * *

If you loved HEIR TO SCANDAL, pick up the other stories in the SECRETS OF EDEN series from Andrea Laurence

UNDENIABLE DEMANDS

A BEAUTY UNCOVERED

Available now from Harlequin Desire!

And don’t miss the final SECRETS OF EDEN book, HER SECRET HUSBAND, available October 2014.

Keep reading for an excerpt from MATCHED TO HER RIVAL by Kat Cantrell.

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Desire story.

You want to leave behind the everyday! Harlequin Desire stories feature sexy, romantic heroes who have it all: wealth, status, incredible good looks…everything but the right woman. Add some secrets, maybe a scandal, and start turning pages!

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One

In the media business—and in life—presentation trumped everything else, and Dax Wakefield never underestimated the value of putting on a good show.

Careful attention to every detail was the reason his far-flung media empire had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. So why was KDLS, the former jewel of his crown, turning in such dismal ratings?

Dax stopped at the receptionist’s desk in the lobby of the news station he’d come to fix. “Hey, Rebecca. How’s Brian’s math grade this semester?”

The receptionist’s smile widened as she fluffed her hair and threw her shoulders back to make sure he noticed her impressive figure.

He noticed. A man who enjoyed the female form as much as Dax always noticed.

“Good morning, Mr. Wakefield,” Rebecca chirped. “He made a C on his last report card. Such an improvement. It’s been like six months since I mentioned his grades. How on earth did you remember?”

Because Dax made it a point to keep at least one personal detail about all his employees front and center when speaking to them. The mark of success wasn’t simply who had the most money, but who had the best-run business, and no one could do it all by themselves. If people liked working for you, they stuck around, and turned themselves inside out to perform.

Usually. Dax had a few questions for Robert Smith, the station manager, about the latest ratings. Someone was tripping up somewhere.

Dax tapped his temple and grinned. “My mama encourages me to use this bad boy for good instead of evil. Is Robert around?”

The receptionist nodded and buzzed the lock on the security door. “They’re taping a segment. I’m sure he’s hovering near the set.”

“Say hi to Brian for me,” Dax called as he sailed through the frosted glass door and into the greatest show on earth—the morning news.

Cameramen and gaffers mixed it up, harried producers with electronic tablets stepped over thick cables on their way to the sound booth, and in the middle of it all sat KDLS’s star anchor, Monica McCreary. She was conversing on camera with a petite dark-haired woman who had great legs, despite being on the shorter side. She’d done a lot with what she had and he appreciated the effort.

Dax paused at the edge of the organized chaos and crossed his arms, locking gazes with the station manager. With a nod, Robert scurried across the ocean of people and equipment to join him.

“Saw the ratings, huh?” Robert murmured.

That was a quality Dax fully appreciated in his employees—the ability to read his mind.

Low ratings irritated him because there was no excuse. Sensationalism was key, and if nothing newsworthy happened, it was their job to create something worth watching, and ensure that something had Wakefield Media stamped on it.

“Yep.” Dax left it at that, for now. He had all day and the crew was in the middle of taping. “What’s this segment?”

“Dallas business owners. We feature one a week. Local interest stuff.”

Great Legs owned her own business? Interesting. Smart women equaled a huge turn-on.

“What’s she do? Cupcakes?”

Even from this distance, the woman exuded energy—a perky little cheerleader type who never met a curlicue or excess of decoration she didn’t like. He could see her dolloping frosting on a cupcake and charging an exorbitant price for it.

Dax could go for a cupcake. Literally and figuratively. Maybe even at the same time.

“Nah. She runs a dating service.” Robert nodded at the pair of women under the spotlight. “EA International. Caters to exclusive clients.”

The back of Dax’s neck heated instantly and all thoughts of cupcakes went out the window.

“I’m familiar with the company.”

Through narrowed eyes, Dax zeroed in on the Dallas business owner who had cost him his oldest friend. Someone who called herself a matchmaker should be withered and stooped, with gray hair. It was such an antiquated notion. And it should be against the law.

The anchor laughed at something the matchmaker said and leaned forward. “So you’re Dallas’s answer to a fairy godmother?”

“I like to think of myself as one. Who doesn’t need a bit of magic in their lives?” Her sleek dark hair swung freely as she talked with her hands, expression animated.

“You recently matched the Delamerian prince with his fiancée, right?” Monica winked. “Women everywhere are cursing that, I’m sure.”

“I can’t take credit.” The matchmaker smiled and it transformed her entire demeanor. “Prince Alain—Finn—and Juliet had a previous relationship. I just helped them realize it wasn’t over.”

Dax couldn’t stop watching her.

As much as he hated to admit it, the matchmaker lit up the set. KDLS’s star news anchor was more of a minor celestial body compared to the matchmaker’s sun.

And Dax was never one to underestimate star power.

Or the element of surprise.

He strode onto the set and dismissed the anchor with a jerk of his head. “I’ll take over from here, Monica. Thanks.”

Despite the unusual request, Monica smiled and vacated her chair without comment. No one else so much as blinked. No one who worked for him, anyway.

As he parked in Monica’s still-warm chair, the petite dynamo opposite him nearly bowled him over when she blurted out, “What’s going on? Who are you?”

A man who recognized a golden opportunity for improved ratings.

“Dax Wakefield. I own the station,” he said smoothly. “And this interview has officially started over. It’s Elise, right?”

Her confusion leveled out and she crossed her spectacular legs, easing back in the chair carefully. “Yes, but you can call me Ms. Arundel.”

Ah, so she recognized his name. Let the fun begin.

He chuckled darkly. “How about if I call you Ms. Hocus-Pocus instead? Isn’t that your gig, pulling fast ones on unsuspecting clients? You bibbidi-bobbidi-boo women into relationships with wealthy men.”

This interview had also officially become the best way to dish up a side of revenge—served cold. If this ratings gold mine led to discrediting EA International, so much the better. Someone had to save the world from this matchmaker’s mercenary female clients.

“That’s not what I do.” Elise’s gaze cut from his face to his torso and her expression did not melt into the typical sensuous smile that said she’d be happy to further discuss whatever he wanted to talk about over drinks. Unlike most women.

It whetted his appetite to get sparks on the screen another way.

“Enlighten us then,” he allowed magnanimously with a wave of his hand.

“I match soul mates.” Elise, pardon-me-Ms.-Arundel, cleared her throat and recrossed her legs as if she couldn’t find a comfortable pose. “Some people need more help than others. Successful men seldom have time or the patience to sort through potential love interests. I do it for them. At the same time, a man with means needs a certain kind of mate, one not easily found. I widen the potential pool by polishing a few of my female clients into diamonds worthy of the highest social circles.”

“Oh, come now. You’re training these women to be gold diggers.”

That was certainly what she’d done with Daniella White, whose last name was now Reynolds because she’d managed to snare Dax’s college friend Leo. Who then promptly screwed Dax over in favor of his wife. A fifteen-year friendship down the drain. Over a woman.

Elise’s smile hardened. “You’re suggesting women need a class on how to marry a man for his money? I doubt anyone with that goal needs help honing her strategy. I’m in the business of making women’s lives better by introducing them to their soul mates.”

“Why not pay for them to go to college and let them find their own dates?” Dax countered swiftly.

The onlookers shifted and murmured but neither Dax nor Elise so much as glanced away from their staring contest. An indefinable crackle sliced through the air between them. It was going to be beautiful on camera.

“There are scholarship opportunities out there already. I’m filling another niche, helping people connect. I’m good at what I do. You of all people should know that.”

Oh, she had not just gone there. Nearly nose to nose now, he smiled, the best method to keep ’em guessing. “Why would I know that? Because you single-handedly ruined both a business venture and a long-standing friendship when you introduced Leo to his gold digger?”

So, apparently that wound was still raw.

College roommates who’d seen the world through the same lens, he and Leo believed wholeheartedly in the power of success and brotherhood. Females were to be appreciated until they outlived their usefulness. Until Daniella, who somehow got Leo to fall in love with her and then she’d brainwashed his oldest friend into losing his ruthless business edge.

Not that he believed Daniella was 100 percent at fault. She’d been the instigator but Leo had pulled the plug on the deal with Dax. Both he and Leo had suffered a seven-figure loss. Then Leo ended their friendship for no reason.

The pain of his friend’s betrayal still had the power to punch quite a hole through his stomach. That was why it never paid to trust people. Anyone you let in eventually stomped all over you.

“No!” She huffed a sigh of frustration and shut her eyes for a beat, clearly trying to come up with a snappy response. Good luck with that. There wasn’t one.

But she tried anyway. “Because I single-handedly helped two people find each other and fall in love. Something real and lasting happened before your eyes and you had a front-row seat. Leo and Dannie are remarkably compatible and share values. That’s what my computer does. Matches people according to who they are.”

“The magic you alluded to earlier,” Dax commented with raised eyebrows. “Right? It’s all smoke and mirrors, though. You tell these people they’re compatible and they fall for it. The power of suggestion. Quite brilliant, actually.”

And he meant it. If anyone knew the benefit of smoke and mirrors, he did. It kept everyone distracted from what was really going on behind the curtain, where the mess was.

A red stain spilled across Elise’s cheeks, but she didn’t back down. “You’re a cynical man, Dax Wakefield. Just because you don’t believe in happily ever after doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”

“True.” He conceded the point with a nod. “And false. I readily admit to being cynical but happily ever after is a myth. Long-term relationships consist of two people who’ve agreed to put up with each other. No ridiculous lies about loving each other forever required.”

“That’s...” Apparently she couldn’t come up with a word to describe it. So he helped her out.

“Reality?”

His mother had proven it by walking out on his father when Dax was seven. His father had never recovered from the hope she’d eventually come back. Poor sap.

“Sad,” she corrected with a brittle smile. “You must be so lonely.”

He blinked. “That’s one I’ve never been called before. I could have five different dates lined up for tonight in about thirty seconds.”

“Oh, you’re in worse shape than I thought.” With another slide of her legs that Dax couldn’t quite ignore, she leaned toward him. “You need to meet the love of your life. Immediately. I can help you.”

His own bark of laughter startled him. Because it wasn’t funny. “Which part wasn’t clear? The part where I said you were a phony or the part where I don’t believe in love?”

“It was all very clear,” she said quietly. “You’re trying to prove my business, my life’s work, is a sham. You can’t, because I can find the darkest of hearts a match. Even yours. You want to prove something? Put your name in my computer.”

Double ouch. He’d been bamboozled. And he’d never seen it coming.

Against all odds, he dredged up a healthy amount of respect for Elise Arundel.

Hell. He actually kind of liked her style.

* * *

Elise wiped her clammy hands on her skirt and prayed the pompous Mr. Wakefield didn’t notice. This was not the scripted, safe interview she’d been promised or she never would have agreed to sit on this stage under all these burning hot lights, with what felt like a million pairs of eyes boring a hole through her.

Thinking on her feet was not her strong suit.

Neither was dealing with wealthy, spoiled, too-handsome, arrogant playboys who despised everything she believed in.

And she’d just invited him to test her skills. Had she accidentally inhaled paint thinner?

It hardly mattered. He’d never take her up on it. Guys like Dax didn’t darken the door of a matchmaker. Shallow, unemotional relationships were a snap to find, especially for someone who clearly had a lot of practice enticing women into bed. And was likely an ace at keeping them there.

Dax stroked his jaw absently and contemplated her. “Are you offering to find me a match?”

“Not just a match,” she corrected immediately and tore her gaze from the thumb running under his chiseled cheekbone. “True love. My gig is happily ever after.”

Yes. It was, and she hadn’t failed one single couple yet. She wasn’t about to start today.

Matching hearts fulfilled her in so many ways. It almost made up for not finding her own match. But hope sprang eternal. If her mother’s five marriages and dozens of affairs hadn’t squeezed optimism and a belief in the power of love out of her, Dax Wakefield couldn’t kill them either.

“So tell me about your own happily ever after. Is Mr. Arundel your one true love?”

“I’m single,” she admitted readily. It was a common question from clients who wanted her credentials and the standard answer came easily now. “But it’s not a commentary on my services. You don’t decide against using a travel agent just because she hasn’t been to the resort you’re booking, right?”

“Right. But I would wonder why she became a travel agent if she doesn’t ever get on a plane.”

The crowd snickered and the muscles in her legs tensed. Oh, spotlight how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways...

She’d be happy to get on a plane if the right man came along. But clients were always right for someone else, not her, and well...she wasn’t the best at walking up to interesting men in public and introducing herself. Friday nights with a chick flick always seemed safer than battling the doubts that she wasn’t quite good enough, successful enough, or thin enough for dating.

She’d only agreed to this interview to promote her business. It was a necessary evil, and nothing other than EA International’s success could entice her into making such a public spectacle.

“I always fly first class myself, Mr. Wakefield,” she responded and if only her voice hadn’t squeaked, the delivery would have been perfect. “As soon as you’re ready to board, see me and I’ll put you on the right plane in the right seat to the right destination.

“What do I have to do?” he asked. “Fill out a profile online?”

Was he actually considering it? She swallowed and the really bad feeling she’d tamped down earlier roared back into her chest.

Talk him out of it.

It was a stupid idea in the first place. But how else could she have responded? He was disparaging not only her profession but a company with her name on it.

“Online profiles don’t work,” she said. “In order to find your soul mate, I have to know you. Personally.”

Dax’s eyelids drifted lower and he flashed a slumberous smile that absolutely should not have sent a zing through her stomach. “That sounds intriguing. Just how personal does this get, Ms. Arundel?”

Was he flirting? Well, she wasn’t. This was cold, hard business. “Very. I ask a series of intensive questions. By the time I’m finished, I’ll know you better than your own mother.”

Something dark skittered through Dax’s eyes but he covered it swiftly. “Tall order. But I don’t kiss and tell, especially not to my mama. If I do this, what happens if I don’t find true love? You’ll be exposed as a fraud. Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“I’m not worried,” she lied. “The only thing I ask is that you take this seriously. No cheating. If you commit to the process and don’t find true love, do your best to spread word far and wide that I’m not as good as I say I am.”

But she was that good. She’d written the matching algorithm herself, pouring countless hours into the code until it was bulletproof. People often perplexed her, but a program either worked or it didn’t, and she never gave up until she fixed the bug. Numbers were her refuge, her place of peace.

A well-written line of code didn’t care how many chocolate bars she ate. Or how easily chocolate settled on her hips.

“That’s quite a deal.” His gaze narrowed. “But it’s too easy. There’s no way I can lose.”

Because he believed she was pulling a fast one on her clients and that he’d never fall for it. “You’re right. You don’t lose either way. If you don’t find love, you get to tear my business apart in whatever way makes sense to you. If you do find love, well...” She shrugged. “You’ll be happy. And you’ll owe me.”

One brow quirked up and she refused to find it charming.

“Love isn’t its own reward?”

He was toying with her. And he wasn’t going to get away with it. “I run a business, Mr. Wakefield. Surely you can appreciate that I have expenses. Smoke and mirrors aren’t free.”

His rich laugh hit her crossways. Yeah, he had a nice laugh. It was the only nice anything he had that she’d admit to noticing. Dannie had certainly hit the mark when she described Dax Wakefield to Elise as “yummy with an extra helping of cocky and a side of reptile.”


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