Oliver March was a thorn in my side.
The man was determined to take down my Matchmaking Agency with his stupid blog.
But I wasn’t going down without a fight. I had a proposition for the enemy.
I bet the pompous jerk I could find him his perfect woman.
It was supposed to be simple. A few dates with gorgeous, accomplished women, one of whom he’d fall for and stop badmouthing my business.
But it all went sideways. My algorithm, or more likely, my nosey business partners, set us up.
We talked. We laughed.
We kissed.
We crossed so far over the line, it was invisible by the time I realized what I had done.
I’d gone and fallen for the enemy.