The Perfect Match: First Comes Marriage / Yours and Mine

“Well…” Now that she’d been called upon to define it, Janine couldn’t quite put that magical feeling into words. “It’s…it’s an awareness that comes from the heart.”

“The heart,” her grandfather repeated, smacking his palm against his chest.

“Romance is the knowledge that a man would rather die than live his life without me,” she said, warming to the subject.

“You want him to die?”

“No, just to be willing.”

Gramps frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Romance is forbidden trysts on lonely Scottish moors,” she added, thinking of an historical romance she’d read as a teenager.

“There aren’t any moors in the Seattle area.”

“Don’t distract me,” she said, smiling, her thoughts gaining momentum. “Romance is desperate passion.”

He snorted. “That sounds more like hormones to me.”

“Gramps, please!”

“How can I understand when all you say is ridiculous things? You want romance. First you claim it’s a feeling in the heart, then you say it’s some kind of passion.”

“It’s more than that. It’s walking hand in hand along the beach at twilight and gazing into each other’s eyes. It’s speaking of love without ever having to say the words.” She paused, feeling a little foolish at getting so carried away. “I don’t know if I can adequately describe it.”

“That’s because you haven’t experienced it.”

“Maybe not,” she agreed reluctantly. “But I will someday.”

“With Zach,” he said with complete assurance and a wide grin.

Janine didn’t bother to argue. Gramps was being obstinate and arguing with him was pointless. The only recourse she had was time itself. Soon enough he’d realize that neither she nor Zach was going to fall in with his scheme. Then, and only then, would he drop the subject.

A week passed and Gramps hadn’t said another word about arranging a marriage between her and Zachary Thomas. It was a cold windy March evening and the rain was coming down in torrents. Janine loved nights like this and was curled up in her favorite chair with a mystery novel when the doorbell chimed. Gramps had gone out for the evening and she wasn’t expecting anyone.

She turned on the porch light and looked out the peephole to discover Zach standing there, a briefcase in his hand. His shoulders were hunched against the pelting rain.

“Zach,” she said in surprise, throwing open the door.

“Hello, Janine,” he said politely, stepping inside. “Is your grandfather here?”

“No.” She held the book against her chest, her heart pounding hard. “He went out.”

Zach frowned, clearly confused. “He asked me to stop by. There were some business matters he wanted to discuss. Did he say when he’d be home?”

“No, but I’m sure if he asked you over, it’ll be soon. Would you care to wait for him?”

“Please.”

She took his raincoat, then led him into the library where she’d been reading. A fire was burning, and its warmth hugged the room. The three-story house, situated in Seattle’s Mt. Baker district, was a typical turn-of-the-century home with high ceilings and spacious rooms. The third floor had once housed several servants. Charles was their only live-in help now, and his quarters had always been an apartment over the carriage house. He worked exclusively for Gramps, driving the limousine. Mrs. McCormick arrived early in the mornings and was responsible for housekeeping and meal preparation.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, once he was comfortably seated.

“Coffee, if you have it.”

“I made a fresh pot about twenty minutes ago.”

Janine brought him a cup from the kitchen, then sat across from Zach, wondering what, if anything, she should say about Gramps and his idea of an arranged marriage.

She doubted that Gramps had broached the subject yet. Otherwise he wouldn’t be sitting there so calmly sipping coffee. He’d be outraged and infuriated, and studying him now, she concluded that he wasn’t even slightly ruffled. It was on the tip of her tongue to warn him about what was coming, but she decided against it. Better that he learn the same way she had.

Lacing her fingers together, she smiled, feeling awkward and a little gauche. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too. I’ll admit I’m a bit disappointed, though.”

“You are?”

“On the drive over, I was trying to guess what you’d be wearing this time. A dress made from bread sacks? A blouse constructed out of men’s socks?”

She muttered under her breath, annoyed by his teasing. He had the uncanny ability to make her feel fifteen all over again. So much for any possibility that they’d ever be compatible. And Gramps seemed to think he knew them both so well.

“I’ll admit that an Irish cable-knit sweater and jeans are a pleasant surprise,” he said.

A flicker of admiration sparked in his dark eyes, something that had been missing the first time they met.

In that instant, Janine knew.

She went stock-still, almost dizzy with the realization. Not only had Gramps approached Zach, but they’d apparently reached some sort of agreement. Otherwise Zach would never have been this friendly, this openly appreciative. Nor would he arrive unannounced when Gramps had specifically stated that he’d be gone for the evening.

They were obviously plotting against her. Well, she had no intention of putting up with it. None. If Zach and Gramps thought they could lure her into marriage, they had a real shock coming.

Squaring her shoulders, she slid to the edge of her chair. “So you gave in to the pressure,” she said, shooting him a scalding look. Unable to stay seated, she jumped to her feet and started pacing, rubbing her palms together as she cornered her thoughts. “Gramps got to you, didn’t he?”

“I beg your pardon?” Zach stared up at her, his eyes curious.

“And you agreed?” She threw up her hands and groaned, “I don’t believe it, I simply don’t believe it. I thought better of you than this.”

“What don’t you believe?”

“Of all the men I’ve met over the years, I would’ve sworn you were the type who’d refuse to be bought. I’m disappointed in you, Zach.”

He remained calm and unperturbed, which infuriated her more than anything he could have said or done.

“I haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” was all he said.

“Oh, sure, play the innocent,” she snapped. She was so incensed that she continued to pace. Standing still was impossible.

In response, Zach merely glanced at his watch and drank his coffee. “Does your grandfather know you suffer from these bouts of hysteria?”