The Perfect Match: First Comes Marriage / Yours and Mine. Debbie Macomber

wouldn’t look so smug if he said marriage was the only thing that would fulfill you as a man,” she muttered. “Honestly, Zach, do I look like I’m wasting away from lack of purpose?” She gestured dramatically with her hands. “I’m happy, I’m busy…in fact I’m completely delighted with my life.” It wasn’t until she’d finished that she realized she was clenching her teeth.

      “Don’t take it so personally.”

      Janine rolled her eyes, wondering what his reaction would be if he was on the receiving end of this discussion.

      “In case you didn’t know it, Anton’s a terrible chauvinist,” he remarked, still smiling. “An old-fashioned word, perhaps, for an old-fashioned man.”

      “That’s true, but he is my grandfather,” she said. “And he’s so charming, it’s easy to forgive him.”

      Zach picked up his wineglass and gazed at it thoughtfully. “What I can’t figure out is why he’s so keen on marrying you off now. Why not last year? Or next year?”

      “Heavens, I don’t know. I suppose he thinks it’s time. My biological clock’s ticking away and the noise is probably keeping him awake at night. By age twenty-four, most of the women from the old country had four or five children.”

      “He certainly seems intent on the idea of seeing you married soon.”

      “Tell me about it!” Janine cried. “I’d bet cold cash that when he brought up the subject he said you were the only suitable man he’d found for me.”

      “Anton also said you have a generous heart, and that he feared some fast-talker would show up one day and you’d fall for him.”

      “Really?” she asked weakly. Her heart stopped, then jolted to life again. Anton’s scenario sounded exactly like her disastrous romance with Brian. She sighed deeply. “So then he told you he wants me to marry someone he respects, someone he loves like a son. A man of discretion and wisdom and honor. A man he trusts enough to merge companies with.”

      Zach arched his brows. “You know your grandfather well.”

      “I can just imagine what came next,” Janine added scathingly and her stomach tensed at her grandfather’s insidious cleverness. Zach wasn’t someone who could be bought, at least not with offers of money or prestige. Instead, Gramps had used a far more subtle form of inducement. He’d addressed Zach’s pride, complimented his achievements, flattered him. To hear Gramps tell it, Zachary Thomas was the only man alive capable of taking on the task of becoming Janine’s husband.

      “What did you tell him?” she asked, her voice low.

      “I told him no way.”

      Janine blinked back surprise mingled with a fair amount of indignation. “Just like that? Couldn’t you at least have mulled it over?” Zach was staring at her as though he thought someone should rush over and take her temperature. “Forget I said that,” she mumbled, fussing with her napkin in order to avoid meeting his eyes.

      “I didn’t want to encourage him.”

      “That was wise.” Janine picked up her water glass and downed half the contents.

      “To your grandfather’s credit, he seemed to accept my answer.”

      “Don’t count on it,” Janine warned.

      “Don’t worry, I know him, too. He isn’t going to give up easily. That’s the reason I suggested you and I meet to talk about this. If we keep in touch, we can anticipate Anton’s strategy.”

      “Good idea.”

      Their salads arrived and Janine frowned when the waitress tossed Zach another suggestive glance. “So,” she began in a conversational tone once the woman had left, “Gramps was smart enough not to offer you a large incentive if you went along with his scheme.”

      “I didn’t say that.”

      She stabbed viciously at her salad. “I hadn’t expected him to stoop that low. Exactly what tactics did he use?”

      “He said something about family members having use of the limousine.”

      Janine’s fork made a clanging sound as it hit the side of her salad bowl. “He offered you the limousine if you married me? That’s all?”

      “Not even that,” Zach explained, not bothering to disguise his amusement, “only the use of it.”

      “Why…why, that’s insulting.” She crammed some salad into her mouth and chewed the crisp lettuce as though it were leather.

      “I considered it a step above the cow and ten chickens you suggested the first time we discussed this.”

      “Where he came from, a cow and ten chickens were worth a lot more than you seem to realize,” Janine exclaimed, and immediately regretted raising her voice, because half the patrons in the restaurant turned to stare. She smiled blandly at those around her, then slouched forward over her salad.

      She reached for a bread stick, broke it in half and glared at it. “The use of the limo,” she repeated, indignant.

      “Don’t look so upset.” He grinned. “I might have accepted.”

      Zach was deriving far too much pleasure from this to suit her. “Your attitude isn’t helping any,” she said, frowning righteously.

      “I apologize.”

      But he didn’t act the least bit apologetic. When she’d first met Zach, Janine had assumed he was a man who rarely smiled, yet in the short time they’d spent together today, he’d practically been laughing outright.

      The waitress brought their entrées, but when Janine took her first bite, she realized that even the pretense of eating was more than she could manage. She felt too wretched. Tears sprang to her eyes, which embarrassed her even more, although she struggled to hide them.

      “What’s wrong?” Zach surprised her by asking.

      Eyes averted, Janine shook her head, while she attempted to swallow. “Gramps believes I’m a poor judge of character,” she finally said. And she was. Brian had proved it to her, but Gramps didn’t know about Brian. “I feel like a failure.”

      “He didn’t mean any of it,” Zach said gently.

      “But couldn’t he have come up with something a little more flattering?”

      “He needed an excuse to marry you off, otherwise his suggestion would have sounded crazy.” Zach hesitated. “You know, the more we discuss this, the more ludicrous the whole thing seems.” He chuckled softly and leaned forward to set his elbows on the table. “Who would’ve believed he’d come up with the idea of the two of us marrying?”

      “Thank you very much,” Janine muttered. He sat there shredding her ego and apparently found the process just short of hilarious.

      “Don’t let it get to you. You’re not interested in me as a husband, anyway.”

      “You’re right about that—you’re the last person I’d ever consider marrying,” she lashed out, then regretted her reaction when she saw his face tighten.

      “That’s what I thought.” He attacked his spaghetti as though the clams were scampering around his plate.

      The tension between them mounted. When the waitress arrived to remove their plates, Janine had barely touched her meal. Zach hadn’t eaten much, either.

      After paying for their dinner, Zach walked her to her car, offering no further comment. As far as Janine was concerned, their meeting hadn’t been at all productive. She felt certain that Zach was everything Gramps claimed—incisive, intelligent, intuitive. But that was at the office. As a potential husband and wife, they were completely ill-suited.

      “Do you still want me to keep in touch?” she asked when she’d unlocked her car