Page 3 of Match Me if You Can

“I don’t want any of them.”

Ugh. Fine. I’ll pull more files, spend more time⁠—

“I want you.”

TWO

Violet

I feel my eyes go wide before I lock down my surprise.

Hating that I give him even a blip of what’s whipping through my mind.

Which—for the record—is fuck no.

I need to be calm and reserved and controlled.

Because hockey players are not.

They’re brutes—wild men who crash into each other on the ice, exchanging blows, acting proud when they draw blood. They fuck their way through woman, treating them like they’re disposable. They spend money and drive fast cars and golf and fish and⁠—

Most of them are assholes.

So, why do I work with them?

That’s a great question.

One I don’t have an answer—great, good, or otherwise—to at the moment.

Shoving that thought aside, I snag the stack of files and set them on a shelf out of reach of Ace Ambrose, Asshole Hockey Player. Then I get down to business. “I have a wide selection of women who would be happy to⁠—”

“I don’t want them,” he says. “I want you.”

I shiver—and I don’t know if it’s fear or desire.

Because there’s no doubt that Ace Ambrose is sexy as hell—a body to kill for, thighs like tree trunks, six-pack abs that have graced billboards, a face…that’s as pretty as any model.

Hence his opportunity for life-changing money.

But also, he’s dangerous.

Thus, my reply is tart. “We can’t always get what we want.”

He sighs, leans back further in my chair, its front wheels lifting off the floor again, and I can almost hear its velvet upholstery groan in protest. “I always do.”

Ugh. Seriously?

I want this man out of my office.

I just…need his money more.

Especially with my rent doubling and⁠—

There has to be a woman this asshole will accept…and hopefully that same woman will tolerate him. I unlock my filing cabinet, start browsing.

Amy McFarland? No. This man would eat her alive.

Brenda Connors? She’s beautiful but messy—her personal life is thoroughly documented on social media (which is why I have an ironclad NDA). She’s smart and wouldn’t disclose my services knowingly, but I can’t guarantee something wouldn’t slip through…so, she’s out.