He folded his arms over his chest. “I suppose you could say I’m following Blake’s lead. Marriage solves a few fundamental problems in my career path.”
She stared at him full on now, not trying to look away. “Your problems. Not mine.”
“Problems you helped play a role in.” He saw the spark in her eye before she managed her first syllable of defense.
She sat the tea down and placed a hand on the counter. “That’s low, Carter.”
“And true or you’d be the first to tell me I’m wrong. If I had a choice, I’d be married by Monday to help dispel all the media crap created by yours and Gwen’s night on the Texas town. I thought I could come to you and obtain a little bit of cooperation.”
“A little bit of cooperation. Marriage is a tad more than a little bit of anything.” Her voice rose and her knuckles started to grip the counter.
“Yet you earn your living arranging marriages or partnerships on trite reasons less important than mine.” How dare she follow a moral high ground. Maybe she’d forgotten how well versed he was on her and Samantha’s business.
“You forget that our clients have to approve of the relationships we arrange. They have to like the person—”
He laughed, interrupting her. “Do you really want to pretend we aren’t friends to prove your point?”
Her cheeks grew rosy which he had to admit was much better than the pasty color she’d been sporting when he walked into the house. He felt the fire
burning inside her as she shot daggers with her eyes.
“You’re my best friend’s husband’s friend. If you’re looking for a wife you might peek into your little black book, or whatever it is you use, and draw another name.”
Carter let his arms drop and took two steps closer. The angrier she became, the more his blood churned. His body responded to her outrage, but not in anger. “I don’t want to draw another name.”
