The Improperly Pregnant Princess. Jacqueline Diamond

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       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 every woman he’d ever spoken to had seen the clip. Didn’t seem as if there were much point in getting shot down a few more times tonight.

      But jeez, spending the night alone sucked.

      Stomach growling, Dax dumped his messenger bag at the door and strode to the stainless-steel-and-black-granite kitchen to survey the contents of his cupboard.

      While pasta boiled, he amused himself by recalling Elise’s diabolical smile as she suggested Dax put his name in her computer. Sweet dreams were made of dark-haired, petite women.

      He wasn’t looking forward to being grilled about his favorite color and where he went to college so Ms. Arundel could pull a random woman’s name out of her computer. But he was, oddly enough, looking forward to sparring with her some more.

      * * *

      The next morning, Dax opted to drive to his office downtown. He usually walked, both to get in the exercise and to avoid dealing with Dallas traffic, but Elise had scheduled their first session at the mutually agreed-upon time of 10:00 a.m.

      By nine forty-seven, he’d participated in three conference calls, signed a contract for the purchase of a regional newspaper, read and replied to an in-box full of emails, and drunk two cups of coffee. Dax lived for Wakefield Media.

      And now he’d have to sacrifice some of his day to the Fairy Godmother. Because he said he would.

      Dax’s mother was a coldhearted, untrustworthy woman, but in leaving, had taught him the importance of living up to your word. That was why he rarely promised anything.

      EA International resided in a tasteful two-story office building in Uptown. The clean, low-key logo on the door spoke of elegance and sophistication, exactly the right tone to strike when your clients were high-powered executives and entrepreneurs.

      The receptionist took his name. Dax proceeded to wait until finally she showed him to a room with two leather chairs and a low table strewn with picture books, one sporting a blue-and-gold fish on the cover and another, a waterfall.

      Boring. Did Ms. Arundel hope to lull her clients into a semi-stupor while she let them cool their heels? Looked as though he was about to find out.

      Elise clacked into the room, high heels against the hardwood floor announcing her presence. He glanced up slowly, taking in her heels, those well-built legs, her form-fitting scarlet skirt and jacket. Normally he liked taller women, but couldn’t remember why just then. He kept going, thoroughly enjoying the trip to her face, which he’d forgotten was so arresting.

      Her energy swept across him and prickled his skin, unnerving him for a moment. “You’re late.”

      Her composed expression didn’t waver. “You were late first.”

      Not that late. Ten minutes. Maybe. Regardless, she’d made him wait in this pseudo dentist’s office on purpose. Score one for the matchmaker. СКАЧАТЬ