She sighed, then put down the pen. “This isn’t going to work if you keep flirting with me.”

“I’m not flirting with you, Marnie. If I was flirting with you, you’d know it.”

“That,” she waved a finger between them, “was definitely flirting.”

“No. This is flirting.” He got up again and approached her desk, then placed his hands on the oak surface and leaned over until their faces were inches apart.

“You are a beautiful, intoxicating, infuriating woman,” he whispered, his voice a low, sensual growl, “and I can’t stop thinking about you. And I love the way you look today. All…unfettered. Untamed.”

Heat washed over her body. “Okay.” Her words shook and she drew in a breath to steady herself. “Yes, that…that was flirting.”

He smiled, held her gaze a moment longer, then retreated to the chair. “Glad we got that settled.”

Settled? If anything, things between them had become more unsettled. Jack Knight. The enemy. In more ways than one.

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author SHIRLEY JUMP didn’t have the will-power to diet, nor the talent to master under-eye concealer, so she bowed out of a career in television and opted instead for a career where she could be paid to eat at her desk—writing. At first, seeking revenge on her children for their grocery store tantrums, she sold embarrassing essays about them to anthologies. However, it wasn’t enough to feed her growing addiction to writing funny. So she turned to the world of romance novels, where messes are (usually) cleaned up before The End. In the worlds Shirley gets to create and control, the children listen to their parents, the husbands always remember holidays, and the housework is magically done by elves. Though she’s thrilled to see her books in stores around the world, Shirley mostly writes because it gives her an excuse to avoid cleaning the toilets and helps feed her shoe habit.

To learn more, visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com

The Matchmaker’s Happy Ending

Shirley Jump

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Mom. I miss you every day.

CHAPTER ONE

MARNIE FRANKLIN LEFT her thirtieth wedding of the year, with aching feet, flower petals in her hair and a satisfied smile on her face. She’d done it. Again.

From behind the wide glass and brass doors of Boston’s Park Plaza hotel, the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Corliss waved and shouted their thanks. “We owe it all to you, Marnie!” Andrew called. A geeky but lovable guy who tended toward neon colored ties that were knotted too tight around his skinny neck, Andrew had been one of her best success stories. Internet millionaire, now married to an energetic, friendly woman who loved him for his mind—and their mutual affection for difficult Sudoku puzzles.

“You’re welcome! May you have a long and happy life together.” Marnie gave them a smile, then turned to the street and waited while a valet waved up one of the half dozen waiting cabs outside the hotel. Exhaustion weighed on Marnie’s shoulders, despite the two cups of coffee she’d downed at the reception. A light rain had started, adding a chill to the late spring air. The always busy Boston traffic passed the hotel in a swoosh-swoosh of tires on damp pavement, a melody highlighted by the honking of horns, the constant music of a city. She loved this city, she really did, but there were days—like today—when she wished she lived somewhere quiet. Like the other side of the moon.

Her phone rang as she opened the taxi’s door and told the driver her address. She pressed mute, sending the call straight to voice mail. That was the trouble with being on the top of her field—there was no room for a holiday or vacation. She’d become one of Boston’s most successful matchmakers, and that meant everyone who wanted a happy ending called her, looking for true love.

Something she didn’t believe in herself.

An irony she couldn’t tell her clients. Couldn’t admit she’d never fallen in love, and had given up on the emotion after one too many failed relationships. She couldn’t tell people that the matchmaker had no faith in a match for herself. So she poured herself into her job and kept a bright smile on her face whenever she told her clients that they could have that happy ending, too.

She’d seen the fairy tale ending happen for other people, but a part of Marnie wondered if she’d missed her one big chance to have a happily-ever-after. She was almost thirty, and had yet to meet Mr. Right. Only a few heartbreaker Mr. Wrongs. At least with her job, she had some control over the outcome, which was the way Marnie preferred the things in her life. Controlled, predictable. The phone rang again, like a punctuation mark to the end of her thoughts.

In front of her, the cabbie pulled away from the curb, at the same time fiddling with the GPS on the dash. Must be a new driver, Marnie decided, and grabbed her phone to answer the call. “This is Marnie. How can I help you make a match?”

“You need to stop working, dear, and find your own Mr. Right.”

Her mother. Who meant well, but who thought Marnie’s personal life should take precedence over everything else in the universe. “Hi, Ma. What are you doing up so late on a Friday night?”

“Worrying about my single daughter. And why she’s working on a Friday night. Again.”

The GPS announced a left turn, a little late for the distracted cab driver, who jerked the wheel to the left and jerked Marnie to one side, too. She gave him a glare in the rearview mirror, but he ignored it. The noxious fumes of Boston exhaust filled the interior, or maybe that was the bad ventilation system in the cab. The car had seen better days, heck, better decades, if the duct tape on the scarred vinyl seats was any indication.

“You should be out on a date of your own,” Marnie countered to her mother.

“Oh, I’m too old for that foolishness,” Helen said. “Besides, your father hasn’t been gone that long.”

“Three years, Ma.” Marnie lowered her voice to a sympathetic tone. Dad’s heart attack had taken them all by surprise. One day he’d been there, grinning and heading out the door, the next he’d been a shell of himself, and then…gone. “It’s okay to move on.”

“So, what are you doing on Sunday?” her mother said, instead of responding to Marnie’s advice, a sure-fire Helen tactic. Change the topic from anything difficult. Marnie’s parents had been the type who avoided the hard stuff, swept it under the rug. To them, the world had been a perpetually sunny place, even when evidence to the contrary dropped a big gray shadow in their way.

A part of Marnie wanted to keep things that way for her mother, to protect Helen, who had been through so much.

“I wanted to have you and your sisters over for brunch after church,” Ma said. “I could serve that coffee cake you love and…”

As her mother talked about the menu, Marnie murmured agreement, and reviewed her To Do list in her head. She had three appointments with new clients early in the morning tomorrow, one afternoon bachelor meet and greet to host, then her company’s Saturday night speed date event—

“Did you hear what I said?” her mother cut in.

“Sorry, Ma. The connection faded.” Or her brain, but she didn’t say that.

The cab driver fiddled again with the GPS, pushing buttons to zoom in or out, Marnie wasn’t sure. He seemed flustered and confused. She leaned forward. “Just take a left up here,” she said to him. “Onto Boylston. Then a right on Harvard.”

The cabbie nodded.

And went straight.

“Hey, you missed the turn.” Damn it. Was the man that green? Marnie gave up the argument and sat back against the seat. After the long day she’d had, the delay was more welcome than annoying. Especially to her feet, which were already complaining about the upcoming three-flight walk upstairs to her condo. She loved the brick building she lived in, with its tree-lined street located within walking distance of the quirky neighborhood of Coolidge Corner. But there were days when living on the third floor—despite the nice view of the park across the street—was exhausting after a long day. Right this second, she’d do about anything for an elevator and a massage chair.

“I said you should wear a dress to brunch on Sunday,” her mother said, “because I’m inviting Stella Hargrove’s grandson. He’s single and—”

“Wouldn’t it be nicer just to visit with you and my sisters, Ma? That way, we can all catch up, which we never seem to get enough time to do. A guy would end up being a fifth wheel.” Marnie pressed a finger to her temple, but it did little to ward off the impending headache. A headache her sister Erica would say she brought on herself because she never confronted her mother and instead placated and deferred. Instead of saying Ma, don’t fix me up, she’d fallen back on making nice instead. Marnie was the middle sister, the peacemaker, even if sometimes that peace came with the price of a lot of aspirin. “Besides, if I want a date, I have a whole file of handsome men to go through.”

“Yet you haven’t done that at all. You keep working and working and…oh, I just worry about you, honey.”

Ever since their father had died, Helen had made her three children her top—and only—priority. No matter how many times Marnie and her sisters had encouraged their mother to take a class, pick up a hobby, go on a trip, she demurred, and refocused the conversation on her girls. What her mother needed was an outside life. Something else to focus on. Something like a…

Man.

Marnie smacked herself in the head. For goodness sake, she was a professional matchmaker. Why had she never thought to fix up her mother? Marnie had made great matches for both of her sisters. Oldest sister Kat got married to her match two years ago, and Erica was in a steady relationship with a man Marnie had introduced her to last month. Despite that, Marnie had never thought about doing the same for her widowed mother. First thing tomorrow morning, she would cull her files and find a selection of distinguished, older men. Who appreciated women with a penchant for meddling.

“I’ll be there for brunch on Sunday, Ma, I promise,” Marnie said, noting the cabbie again messing with the GPS. “Maybe next time we can invite Stella’s grandson. Okay?”

Her mother sighed. “Okay. But if you want me to give him your number or give you his…”

“I know who to call.” Marnie started to say something else when the cabbie swore, stomped on his brakes—

And rear-ended the car in front of him. Marnie jerked forward, the seatbelt cutting across her sternum but saving her from plowing into the plexiglass partition. She let out an oomph, winced at the sharp pain that erupted in her chest, while the cabbie let out a stream of curses.

“What was that sound?” Helen asked. “It sounded like a boom. Did something fall? Did you hit something?”

“It’s, uh, nothing. I gotta go, Ma,” Marnie said, and after a breath, then another, the pain in her chest eased. “See you tomorrow.” She hung up the phone, then unbuckled, and climbed out of the yellow cab. The hood had crumpled, and steam poured from the engine in angry gusts. The cabbie clambered out of the taxi. He let out another long stream of curses, a few in a language other than English, then started pacing back and forth between the driver’s side door and the impact site, holding his head and muttering.

The accordioned trunk of a silver sports car was latched onto the taxi’s hood. A tall, dark, handsome, and angry man stood beside the idling luxury car. He shouted at the cab driver, who threw up his hands and feigned non-understanding, as if he’d suddenly lost all knowledge of the English language.

Marnie grabbed her purse from the car, and walked over to the man. One of those attractive, business types, she thought, noting his dark pinstriped suit, loosened tie, white button-down with the top button undone. A five o’clock shadow dusted his strong jaw, and gave his dark hair and blue eyes a sexy air. The matchmaker in her recognized the kind of good-looking man always in demand with her clients. But the woman in her—

Well, she noticed him on an entirely different level, one that sent a shimmer of heat down her veins and sped up her pulse. Something she hadn’t felt in so long, she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever meet another man who interested her.

Either way, Mr. Suit and Tie looked like a lawyer or something. The last thing she needed was a rich, uptight man with control issues. She’d met enough of them that she could pick his type out of the thousands of people in the stands at Fenway on opening day.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked.

The cab driver nodded. Mr. Suit and Tie shot him a scowl, then turned to Marnie. His features softened. “Yeah. I’m fine,” he said. “You?”

“I’m okay. Just a little shaken up.”

“Good.” He held her gaze for a moment longer, then turned on the cabbie. “Didn’t you see that red light? Where’d you get your license? A vending machine?”

The cabbie just shook his head, as if he didn’t understand a word.

Mr. Suit and Tie let out a curse and shook his head, then pivoted back to Marnie. “What were you thinking, riding around this city with a maniacal cab driver?”

“It’s not like I get a resume and insurance record handed to me before I get in a taxi,” she said. “Now, I understand you’re frustrated, but—”

“I’m beyond frustrated. This has been a hell of a day. With one hell of a bad ending.” He shot the cab driver another glare, but The man had already skulked back to his car and climbed behind the wheel. “Wait! What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing any—” Then she heard the sound of metal groaning, and tires squealing, and realized Mr. Suit and Tie wasn’t talking to her—but to the cab driver who had just hit and run. The yellow car disappeared around the corner in a noisy, clanking cloud of smoke.

In the distance, she heard the rising sound of sirens, which meant one of the people living in the apartments lining the street must have already called 9-1-1. Not soon enough.

Mr. Suit and Tie cursed under his breath. “Great. That’s all I needed today.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Marnie stepped to the corner and put up her hand for a passing cab. “Well, good luck. Hope you get it straightened out and your night gets better.”

“Hey! You can’t leave. You’re my witness.”

“Listen, I’m exhausted and I just want to get home.” She raised her arm higher, waving her hand, hoping to see at least one available cab. Nothing. Her feet screamed in protest. Soon as she got home, she was burning these shoes. “I’ll give you my number. Call me for my statement.” She fished in her purse for a business card, and held it out.

He ignored the card. “I need you to stay.”

“And I need to get home.” She waved harder, but the lone cab that passed her didn’t stop. “This is Boston. Why aren’t there any cabs?”

“Celtics game is just getting over,” the man said. “They’re probably all over at the Garden.”

“Great.” She lowered her arm, then thought of the ten-block hike home. Not fun in high heels. Even less fun after an eighteen-hour day, the last four spent dancing and socializing. She should have drunk an entire pot of coffee.

“I’ll make you a deal,” the man said. “I’ll give you a lift if you can wait until I’ve finished making the accident report. Then you can give your statement and kill two birds with one stone.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. I’m really tired.”

“Stay for just a bit more. After tonight, you’ll never have to see me again.” He grinned.

He had a nice smile. An echoing smile curved across her face. She glanced down the street in the direction of her condo and thought of the soft bed waiting for her there. She weighed that against walking home. Option two made her feet hurt ten times more. Stupid shoes.

She glanced back at the misshapen silver car. “You’re sure you can drive me home? In that?”

“It runs. It’s just got a little junk in the trunk.” He grinned. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

A laugh escaped her and eased some of the tension in her shoulders, the pain in her feet. “Even a bad joke sounds good right now.” No cabs appeared, and that settled the decision for her. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

Not that it was going to be a hardship to wait with a view like that. This guy could have been a cover model. Whew. Hot, hot, hot. She should get his contact information. She had at least a dozen clients who would be—

You’re always working.

Marnie could hear her mother’s voice in her head. Take some time off. Have some fun. Date a guy for yourself. Don’t be so serious and buttoned up all the time.

What no one seemed to understand was this buttoned-up approach had fueled Marnie’s success. She’d seen how a laissez-faire approach to business could destroy a company and refused to repeat those mistakes herself. A distraction like Mr. Suit and Tie would only derail her, something she couldn’t afford.

The man opened the passenger’s side door. “Have a seat. You look like you’ve had a trying day. And I know how that feels.”

She sank into the leather seat, kicked off her shoes and let the platform heels tumble to the sidewalk. The man came to stand beside her, leaning against the rear passenger door. He had the look of a man comfortable in his own skin, at ease with the world. Confident, sexy, but not overly so. A hot combination, especially with the suit and tie. Her stance toward him softened.

“You’re right. I have had a long, trying day myself.” She put out her hand. “Let’s try this again. I’m Marnie Franklin.”

“Jack Knight.”

The name rang a bell, but the connection flitted away before she could grasp it because when he took her hand in his, a delicious spark ran through her, down her arm. If she hadn’t been seated, she might have jumped back in surprise. In her business, she shook hands with dozens of men in the course of a week. None had ever sent that little…zing through her. Maybe exhaustion had lowered her defenses. Or maybe the accident had shaken her up more than she thought. She released his hand, and brushed the hair out of her eyes, if only to keep from touching him again.

The police arrived, two officers who looked like they’d rather be going for a root canal than taking an other accident report in the dent and ding city of Boston. For the next ten minutes Marnie and Jack answered questions. After the police were gone, Jack turned to her. “Thanks for staying. You made a stressful day much better.”

“Glad to help.”

Jack bent down and picked up the black heels she’d kicked onto the sidewalk when she’d sat in his car. He handed them to Marnie, the twin heels dangling from his index finger by their strappy backs. In his strong, capable hands, the fancy shoes looked even more delicate. “Your shoes, Cinderella.” He gave her a wink, and that zing rushed through her a second time.

“I’m far from Cinderella.” She bent and slipped on the damnable slingbacks. Pretty, but painful. “More like the not-so-evil stepmother, trying to fix up all the stepsisters with princes.”

His smile had a dash of sexy, a glimmer of a tease. “Every woman deserves to be Cinderella at least once in her life.”

“Maybe so, if she believes in fairy tales and magic mice.”

She worked in the business of helping people fall in love, and had given up on the fairy tale herself a long time ago. Over the years, she’d become, if anything, more cautious, less willing to dip a toe in the romance pool. When she’d started matchmaking she’d been starry eyed, hopeful. But now…

Now she had a lot of years of reality beneath her and the stars had faded from her vision. She knew her business had suffered as a consequence. Somehow she needed to restore her belief in the very thing she touted to her clients—the existence of true love.

Jack shut her door and came around to the driver’s side. The car started with a soft purr. “Where to?”

She gave him her address, and he put the car in gear. She settled into the luxury seat. The dark leather hugged her body, warm and easy. Damn. She needed to step outside the basic car model box because sitting in this sedan made it pretty easy to fall for the whole Cinderella fantasy. It wasn’t a white horse, but it was a giant step closer to a royal ride. Having a good looking prince beside her helped feed that fantasy, too.

“I’m sorry for being grumpy earlier. That accident was the icing on a tough day. Thanks again for staying and talking to the cops for me,” he said. “I can’t believe you remembered all those details about the driver.”

She shrugged. “My father used to make me do that. Whenever we went someplace, he made sure I noticed the waiter’s name or the cab driver’s ID. He’d have me recite the address or license plate or some other detail. He said you never knew when doing that would come in handy, and he was right.” She could almost hear her father’s voice in her ear. Watch the details, Daisy-doo, be- cause you never know when they’ll matter. He’d rarely called her Marnie, almost always Daisy-doo, because of her love for the flowers. Kat had been Kitty, Erica had been Chatterbug. Marnie missed hearing her father’s wisdom, the way he lovingly teased his daughters. “Besides, the cab driver had his hands on the GPS more than the steering wheel, and that made me doubly nervous. If I could have, I would have jumped in the driver’s seat and taken the wheel myself.”

He chuckled. “Nice to meet a fellow control freak.”

“Me? I’m not a control freak.” She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, maybe I am. A little. But in my house, things were a little…crazy when I was a kid and someone had to take the reins.”

“Let me guess. You’re the oldest? An only?”

“The middle kid, but only younger than the oldest by nine months.”

“Oh, so not just the driver, but the peacemaker, too?” He tossed her a grin.

He’d nailed her, in a few words. “Do you read personality trait books in your spare time or something?”

“Nah. I’m just in a business where it’s essential to be able to read people, quickly, and well.”

“Me, too. Though sometimes you don’t like what you read.”

“True.” Jack glanced over at her, his blue eyes holding her features for a long moment before he returned his attention to the road. “So, Cinderella, what has made you so jaded?”

The conversational detour jolted her. She shifted in her seat. “Not jaded…realistic.”

“Well, that makes two of us. I find, in my line of work, that realism is a must.”

The amber glow of the street lights and the soft white light coming from the dash outlined his lean, defined profile with a soft edge. Despite the easy tone of his words, something in them hinted at a past that hadn’t been easy. Maybe a bad breakup, or a bitter divorce? Either way, despite the zing, she wasn’t interested in cleaning up someone else’s baggage. Stick to impersonal topics, Marnie.

His cell phone started to ring, and the touchscreen in the center of his dash lit up with the word Dad. “Do you mind if I answer this?” Jack asked. “If I don’t, he’ll just keep calling.”

She chuckled and waved toward the screen. “Go right ahead. I totally understand.”

Jack leaned forward, pressed a button on the screen, then sat back again. “Hey, Dad, what’s up? And before you say a word, you’re on speaker, so don’t blurt out any family secrets or embarrassing stories.”

“You got someone in the car with you?” said a deep, amused voice on the other end. “Someone pretty, I hope.”

Jack glanced at Marnie. A slow smile stole across his face and a quiver ran through her. “Yes, someone very pretty. So be on your best behavior.”

His father chuckled. “That’s no fun. The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is the potential for bad behavior.”

Beside her, Jack rolled his eyes and grinned. Parents, he mouthed.

Seemed she wasn’t the only one with a troublesome parent. Jack handled his father with a nice degree of love and humor. That tender touch raised her esteem for him, and had her looking past the suit and tie. Intriguing man. Almost…intoxicating.

She didn’t have time, or room, in her life for being intrigued by a man, though, especially since her business took nearly every spare moment. Even one as handsome as him.

She could almost hear her mother screaming in disagreement, but Marnie knew her business and herself. If she got involved with someone right now, it would be a distraction. Maybe down the road, when her business and life were more settled…

Someday when?

She’d been saying “someday” for years. And had to find the right moment—or the right man—to make her open her heart to love.

“I called because I was wondering when you’d be home,” Jack’s father was saying. “You work more hours than the President, for God’s sake.”

Marnie bit back a laugh. It could have been her conversation with her mother a little while ago. She half expected his father to schedule a blind date brunch, too.

“I’m on my way.” Jack flicked a glance at the dashboard clock. “Give me twenty minutes. Did you eat?”

“Yeah. Sandwiches. Again. Lord knows you don’t have anything in that refrigerator of yours besides beer and moldy takeout.”

“Because I’m never there to eat.”

“Exactly.” Jack’s father cleared his throat. “I have an idea. Maybe…you should bring your pretty companion home for a—”

“Hey, no embarrassing statements, remember?”

His father chuckled. “Okay, okay. Drive safe.”

Jack told his father he’d be home soon, then said goodbye and disconnected the call. “Sorry about that,” Jack said to Marnie. “My dad is…needy sometimes. Even though it’s been a few years since he got divorced, it’s like he’s been lost.”

“My mother is the same way. She calls me every five minutes to make sure I’m eating my vegetables, wearing sunscreen and not working too much.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like we have the same parent. Ever since my dad sold his house, he’s been living with me, while he tries to figure out if he wants to stay in Boston or high-tail it for sunny Florida. He thinks that means he should comment on everything I do and every piece of furniture in my apartment.”

“And what is or isn’t in your fridge.” Marnie’s mom stopped by Marnie’s condo almost every Sunday after church, but less to visit than to do a responsible child check. You need more vegetables, her mother would say. Or you should cook for yourself more often. And the best, if you had a man in your life, you wouldn’t have to do that. Marnie loved her mother, but had realized a long time ago that a mother’s love could be…invasive. “I get the whole you should make more time for homecooked meals and a personal life lecture on a weekly basis. I think my mother forgets how many hours I work. The last thing I want to do when I get home is whip up a platter of lasagna.”

“I think they go to school for that,” Jack said. “How to Bug Your Adult Kids 101.”

She laughed. It did sound like they had the same parent. “Maybe you should get your dad involved in something else, something that keeps him too busy to focus on you. There are all kinds of singles events for people his age. Some of them are dates in disguise, get-togethers centered around hobbies, like cooking or pets,” Marnie said, unable to stop work talk from invading every second of her day. My lord, she was a compulsive matchmaker. And one who needed to take her own advice. First thing tomorrow, she was going to look into dates for Ma and someday soon, she’d nicely tell her mother to butt out.

Yeah, right. Marnie had yet to do that to anyone, especially her mother. But she could tell others what to do. That she excelled at, according to her sisters.

Jack nodded. “I tried that before, years ago, but it didn’t go so well. But you’re right—maybe if I try again, now that some time has passed since all that upheaval, my dad will be more open to doing some activities, especially ones that get him dating again.”

“And if he meets someone else—”

“He won’t have time to worry about my fridge or my hours.” Jack laughed. “Ah, such a devious plan we’ve concocted.”

“As long as it works.” She grinned.

Jack turned onto Marnie’s street. A flicker of disappointment ran through her as the ride came to an end. “It’s the fourth one on the right,” she said. “With the flowers out front.”

Invite him in? Or call it a night?

He slowed the car, then stopped at her building’s entrance. “Nice looking place. I love these brick buildings from the early 1900s. It’s always nice to see the architecture get preserved when the building gets repurposed. Not every owner appreciates history like that.”

“Me, too. Coming home is like stepping into history.” She smiled, then put out her hand. Impersonal, business-like. “Well, thank you for the ride.”

That zing ran through her again when his large hand enfolded hers. For a second, she had the crazy thought of yanking on his hand, pulling him across the car, and kissing him. His broad chest against hers, his lips dancing around her mouth, his hands—

Wow. She needed to sleep more or get extra potassium or something.

“It was the least I could do after you stayed,” Jack was saying. He released her hand. Darn. “Especially after you had a long day yourself.”

Focus on the words he’s speaking, not the fantasy. She jerked her gaze away from his mouth. “It was no trouble.”

He grinned. “You said that already.”

“Oh, well, I’m just really…tired.”

“Yeah, me, too. I had a long day, made longer by someone who dropped the ball on some important paperwork. I got everything back on track, but…what a day.” He ran a hand through his hair, displacing the dark locks. “Anyway, I’m sorry again about losing my temper back there.”

“I would have done the same thing if my trunk looked like an origami project,” she said.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and shrugged off the damaged rear. “It gives my insurance agent something to do.”

She laughed. “True. Anyway, thanks again. Have a good night.”

“You, too.” He reached for her before she got out of the car, a light, quick touch on her arm. But still enough to send heat searing along her skin. “Would you like to go get a cup of coffee or a drink? We could sit around and complain about our jobs, our meddling parents, bad cab drivers and whatever else we can think of?”

A part of her wanted to say yes, but the realistic part piped up, reminding her of the time and her To Do list, and her no-men-for-the-foreseeable-future resolve. Besides, there was something about that zing, something that told her if she caved, she’d be lost, swept in a tsunami. The mere thought terrified her. “I can’t. It’s late. And I have an early day tomorrow.”

“On Saturday?”

She raised one shoulder, let it drop. “My job is a 24/7 kind of thing.”

He chuckled. “Mine, too. And even though every year I vow to work less and play more…”

“You don’t.”

He nodded.

“Me, too.” Because work was easier than confronting the reasons why she worked too much. Because work was easier than taking a chance on love. Work she could control, depend upon. Love, not so much. But she didn’t say any of that. She released the door handle, and shifted to face him.

Despite the fear, she didn’t want to leave. Right now, with Jack looking at her like that, his eyes lit by the street light above and his strong jaw cast in a dark shadow, her resistance was at an all-time low. Desire pulsed in her veins. She wished she had dragged him across the car and kissed him silly when she’d had the chance. So she delayed leaving a bit longer.

“What do you do for work that keeps you busy late into the day and also on weekends?” She put a finger to her lip and gave him a flirty smile. “Let me guess. Lawyer?”

“Hell, no.” He glanced down. “Oh, I get it. Pinstripe suit, power tie. Screams waiting to sue to you?”

“Well, if the Brooks Brothers fits…”

His smile widened, ending with a dimple. Oh, God. Dimples. She’d always been a sucker for them.

“I’m…an investor,” Jack said. “Of sorts.”

“Of sorts?”

“I buy and sell businesses. I find ones that need a cash infusion, and if I think they’re viable, I invest. If I think they’re not, I buy them and either sell them again or break up the pieces and sell it off.”

A shiver ran down her back. The leather seemed to chafe now, not comfort. “You’re…a corporate raider?”

“I’m a little nicer than that. And I tend to work with small to medium-sized businesses, not giant Goliaths.”

The connection fused in her mind. His job. His name.

Jack Knight. Owner of Knight Enterprises. A “business investor”—a euphemism for his true identity. Jack Knight was a vulture. Feeding off the carcasses of desperate business owners.

It had to have been the exhaustion of the day that had kept her from putting the pieces together until now. How could she have misread all the clues?

And to think she’d wanted to kiss him five minutes ago. She bristled. “The size doesn’t matter to the company that gets sold off, or taken over, or destroyed in the process of that kind of ‘help.’”

“I must have given you the wrong impression. There’s more to it—”

“No, there really isn’t. You destroy people’s companies, and their lives.” The words sprang to life in her throat, fueled by exhaustion, shock, and surprised even Marnie with their vehemence. She never did this, never showed outrage, never yelled. Jack Knight had brought out this other side of her, with a roar. “Do you even think about what happens to those people after you swoop in and tear their company to shreds? They spent their lives building those companies, and in an instant, you take it all away. And for what? A bottom line? A few more dollars in your pocket? Another sports car for the collection?” She let out a gust, then grabbed the door handle. It stuck, then yielded, and fresh night air washed over her. She’d gotten distracted, by a dimple and a zing. Idiot. “Goodnight.”

“Wait. What did—”

She shut the door, cutting off his words. She’d confronted him, told him off, and told herself it felt good to finally say what she should say, exactly when she was supposed to say it. Jack idled in the space for a moment, then finally, he drove away, swallowed by the night.

Disappointment hit her first. If only she’d kissed him. If only she’d let herself get talked into that cup of coffee.

If only he’d been someone other than Jack Knight.

Then righteous indignation rose in her chest. He was the one at fault, not her. He was the one who had ruined her father’s company, not her. If she’d told him what she really wanted to say to him, if she’d really let the confrontation loose, she’d have resorted to some very unlady-like behavior, and she refused to give him that satisfaction. Jack Knight didn’t deserve it, not after what he had done to her father.

So she had said goodnight, got out of Cinderella’s carriage, and went back to the real world, where princes didn’t come along very often, and there were no mice to do the work for her.

CHAPTER TWO

“ARE YOU GOING to admit I was right?” Marnie whispered to her mother. They were standing to the side of the private dining room of an upscale Boston restaurant on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Soft jazz music filled the air, accented by the rise and fall of a dozen human voices.

A blush filled Helen’s cheeks, making her look ten years younger. She had her chestnut hair up tonight, which elongated her neck and offset her deep green eyes. The dark blue dress she’d worn skimmed her calves, and defined the hourglass shape she’d maintained all her life, even after giving birth to three children. Coupled with the light in her eyes and the smile on her face, Helen looked prettier than ever, and far younger than her fifty-eight years.

“Yes, you were right, daughter dear,” Helen whispered back. “How’d I get such a smart child?”

“You gave me great genes.” Marnie glanced over the room. Cozy and intimate, the private dining space offered a prime location, great parking and an outstanding menu, making it perfect for Matchmaking by Marnie meet and greets. In her experience, full and happy stomachs equaled happy people who then struck up conversations.

Today, she’d invited ten bachelors to meet her mother, and set up a buffet of finger foods on the far right side of the room. While they noshed on chicken satay and mini eggrolls, Helen circulated. Three days ago, when Marnie and Erica had proposed the idea of a mixer to Helen, she’d refused, insisting she didn’t need to be fixed up, and didn’t want to be, but after a while, she’d relented and agreed to “put in an appearance.”

That appearance had lasted more than an hour now. Once the first man talked to Helen, and two more joined the conversation, Marnie had watched her mother transform into a giggling schoolgirl, flattered by all the sudden attention. Marnie made sure each bachelor got equal time, then stepped back and allowed the pieces to fall where they may. She’d paved the way, then let Mother Nature finish giving directions.

“So,” Marnie said, leaning in closer so they wouldn’t be overheard, “is there one man in particular who you like the most?”

Pink bloomed in Helen’s cheeks. “Do you see the one standing by the bar?”

“The tall man with the gray hair?” Marnie and Erica had interviewed so many eligible gentlemen in the fifty-to sixty-plus age range that some of them had become a bit of a blur. She didn’t remember the details of this man, only that he had impressed her during the group interviews.

“His name’s Dan. He’s retired from his landscaping business, hates to golf, but loves to watch old movies.” Her mother grinned, and in that smile, Marnie could see the energy of a new relationship already blossoming. “And, you’ll never guess what his favorite movie is.”

Marnie put a finger to her lip. “Hmm…Casablanca?”

Helen nodded. “Just like me. We like the same kind of wine, the same kind of music, and both of us love to travel.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.” Marnie grinned. “Or a match made by a daughter who knows her mother very well.”

Helen chuckled. “Well, I wouldn’t say it’s a perfect match…yet, but it’s got potential. Big potential. Now, if only we could find someone for you.” Helen brushed a lock of hair off Marnie’s forehead. “You deserve to be happy, sweetheart.”

“I am happy.” And she was, Marnie told herself. She had a business she loved, a purpose to her life, and a family that might annoy her sometimes, but had always been her personal rock. She gave her mother a quick hug, then headed for the front of the room, waiting until everyone’s attention swiveled toward her before speaking. She noticed Dan’s gaze remained on her mother, while Helen snuck quick glances back in his direction, like two teenagers at a football game.

“I wanted to thank you all for coming today, and if you weren’t lucky enough to be chosen by our amazing and beautiful bachelorette,” Marnie gestured toward her mother, who waved off the compliment, “don’t worry. My goal at Matchmaking by Marnie is to give everyone a happy ending. So work with me, and I promise, I’ll help you find your perfect match.”

The bachelors thanked her, and began to file out of the room. Dan lingered, chatting with Marnie’s mother. She laughed and flirted, seeming like an entirely different person, the person she used to be years and years ago. Marnie sent up a silent prayer of gratitude. Her mother had been lonely for a long time, and it was nice to see her happy again.

The waitstaff began taking away the dishes and cleaning the tables. Marnie gathered her purse and jacket, then touched her mother on the arm. “I’m going to get going, Ma. Call me later, okay?”

Her mother promised, then returned her attention to Dan. The two of them were still chatting when Marnie headed out of the restaurant. She stood by the valet counter, waiting for the valet to return with her car, when a black sports car pulled up to the station. The passenger’s side window slid down. “You’re like a bad penny, turning up everywhere I go.”

The voice took a second to register in her mind. It had been a couple weeks since she’d last heard that deep baritone, and in the busy-ness of working twenty-hour days, she’d nearly forgotten the encounter.

Almost.

Late at night, when she was alone and the day had gone quiet, her mind would wander and she’d wonder what might have happened if he’d been someone other than Jack Knight and she’d agreed to that cup of coffee. Then she would jerk herself back to reality.

Jack Knight was the worst kind of corporate vermin—and the last kind of man she should be thinking about late at night, or any time. Of all the people in the city of Boston, how did she end up running into him twice?

She bent down and peered inside the car. Jack grinned back at her. He had a hell of a smile, she’d give him that. The kind of smile that charmed and tempted, all at once. Yeah, like a snake. “Speaking of bad pennies,” she said, “what are you doing here?”

“Picking up my father.” His head disappeared from view, and a moment later, he had stepped out of the car and crossed to her. He had on khakis and a pale blue button-down shirt, the wrinkled bottom slightly untucked, the top two buttons undone, as if he was just knocking off after putting in a full day of work, even on a Saturday. He looked sexy, approachable. If she ignored his name and his job, that was.

She didn’t want to like him, didn’t want to find his smile alluring or his eyes intriguing. He was a Knight, and she needed to remember that. She was about to say goodbye and end the conversation before it really had a chance to start, when the restaurant door opened and her mother and Dan stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Marnie, you’re still here?” Helen said.

“Jack, you’re here early,” Dan said.

The pieces clicked together in Marnie’s mind. The timing of Jack’s arrival. Picking up my father, he’d said.

She glanced from one man to the other, and prayed she was wrong. “Dan’s your father?” she said to Jack, then spun back to Dan. “But…but your last name is Simpson.”

Dan grinned. “Guilty as charged. I’m this trouble-maker’s stepfather.” He draped a loving arm around Jack and gave him a quick hug.

“You know Dan’s son?” Helen asked Marnie. “You never told me that.”

“I didn’t know until just now. And, Ma, I think you should know that Jack…” Marnie started to tell her mother the rest, the truth about who Jack was, but she watched The light in her mother’s eyes dim a bit, and she couldn’t do it. The urge to keep the peace, to keep everyone happy, overpowered the words and she let them die in her throat.

Dan Simpson. Father of Jack Knight, the man whose company had ruined her family’s life.

Dan Simpson. The man her mother was falling for.

Dan Simpson. Another Mr. Wrong in a family teeming with them.

“You should know that, uh, Jack and I met the other night,” Marnie said finally. “We sort of…ran into each other.”

“Oh, my. What a small world,” Helen said, beaming again.

“Getting smaller every day.” Jack grinned at Marnie, but the smile didn’t sway her. “How do you know my father?”

She gave a helpless shrug. “It seems I just fixed him up with my mother.”

“You’ve got one talented matchmaker standing here,” Dan said, giving Helen’s hand a squeeze. “You should see if she can fix you up, too, Jack.”

Fix him up? She’d rather die first.

“You’re a matchmaker?” Jack raised a brow in amusement.

“Guilty as charged,” she said, echoing Dan’s words.

Her brain swam with the incongruity of the situation. How could she have created such a disaster? Usually her instincts were right on, but this time, they had failed her. And she’d created a mess of epic proportion. One that was slipping out of her control more every second.

Beside her, Dan and Helen were chatting, making plans for dinner or lunch or something. They were off to the side, caught in their own world of just the two of them. All of Marnie’s senses were attuned to Jack—the enemy of her family and son of the man who had finally put a smile on her mother’s face. How was she supposed to tell Ma the truth, and in the process, break a heart that had just begun to mend?

Jack leaned in then, close, his breath a heated whisper against her ear. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to fix me up the night we met.”

“I wouldn’t do that to one of my clients,” she whispered back.

Confusion filled his blue eyes, a confusion she had no intent of erasing, not here, not now.

“I’m not sure what I did to make you despise me,” he said, “but I assure you, I’m not nearly as bad as you think.”

“No, you’re not,” she said just as the valet arrived with her car. She opened the door, and held Jack’s gaze over the roof. “You’re worse.”

Then she got in her car and pulled away.

A matchmaker.

Of all the jobs Jack would have thought the fiery redhead Marnie Franklin held, matchmaker sat at the very bottom of the list. Yet, the title seemed to suit her, to match her strong personality, her crimson hair, her quick tongue.

His stepfather had raved about Marnie’s skills the entire ride from the restaurant to the repair shop to pick up the car the taxi driver had rear-ended, return the rental, then head home. The event had agreed with Dan, giving his hearty features a new energy, and his voice renewed enthusiasm, as if he’d reverse-aged in one afternoon. At six-foot two, with a full head of gray hair, Dan cut an imposing figure offset by a ready smile and pale green eyes. Eyes that now lit with joy every time he talked about Helen.

“I never would have expected to fall for the match-maker’s mother,” Dan said. “But I tell ya, Jack, I really like Helen.”

“I’m glad,” Jack said. And he was. His stepfather had been alone for a long, long time, and deserved happiness. Just with someone other than Marnie Franklin’s maternal relatives. The woman had something against him, that was clear.

“Her daughter’s quite pretty, too, you know,” Dan said.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Dan laughed. “You lie about as well as I cook. I saw you checking her out.”

“That was a reflex.”

“Sure it was.” Dan shifted in his seat to study his son. “You know, you should use some of the arguments you used on me.”

Jack concentrated on the road. Boston traffic in the middle of the day required all his attention. Yeah, that was why he didn’t look Dan in the eye. Because of the cars on the road. “What are you talking about?”

“The list of reasons why I should go to that event—and I’m glad I did, by the way—is the same list I should give you about why you should ask Marnie out.”

“I did. She turned me down.”

“And?”

“And what? End of story.” He didn’t want to get into the reasons why he had no intentions of dating anyone right now. He, of all people, should steer far and wide from anything resembling a relationship.

He could bring a business back to life, turn around a lackluster bottom line, but when it came to personal relationships, he was—

Well, Tanya had called him unavailable. Uninvolved. Cold, even. More addicted to his smartphone than her.

A year after the end of their relationship, he’d had to admit she had a point. When he woke up in the morning, his first thought was the latest business venture, not the woman in his life.

Then why had he asked Marnie to coffee?

Because for the first time in a long time, he was intrigued. She’d been on his mind ever since the night they’d met. Confounding, intriguing Marnie Franklin had been a constant thought in the back of his head. After seeing her today, those thoughts had moved front and center. But he didn’t tell Dan any of this, because he knew it would give his stepfather more ammunition for his “get back to dating” argument.

Right now, Jack was concentrating on work, and on making amends. Jack Knight, Sr. had ruined a lot of lives, and Jack had spent the last two years trying to undo the damage his father had done, while still keeping the business going and keeping the people who worked for him employed. As soon as he’d moved into his father’s office, he’d vowed he would do things differently, approach the company in a new way. He’d gone through all the old files, and had tried to apply that philosophy, one deal at a time.

Tanya might not have thought he had heart when it came to personal relationships, but Jack was determined to prove the opposite in his business relationships. That uninvolved, cold man he’d been was slowly being erased as he gave back more than Knight had taken.

More than he himself had taken.

To try his best to be everything except his father’s son.

That, Jack knew, was why he kept putting in all those hours. He’d been part of his father’s selfish, greedy machinations, and it was all Jack could do now to restore what had been destroyed, partly by his own hand.

Doing so felt good, damned good, but he knew the time he invested in that goal was costing him a life, a family, kids. Maybe if he could do enough to make amends to all those his father had wronged, when he went to sleep at night, then maybe the past would stop haunting him.

And then he could look to the future again.

Maybe.

It hadn’t thus far, and there were days when he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Or just trying to fill an endless well of guilt.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” Jack said, changing the subject.

“You’re on your own tonight, kid. I have plans with Helen.” Dan grinned, and for a second, Jack envied his stepfather that beaming smile, that anticipation for the night ahead. “I’m taking her to Top of the Hub.”

Jack arched a brow at the mention of the famous moving restaurant at the top of the Prudential building. “Impressive. On a first date?”

“Gotta wow her right off,” Dan said.

“I must have missed the memo.”

Dan chuckled. “You’re just a little jaded right now.”

“Not jaded. More…realistic about my strengths. I’m good at business, not good at relationships. End of story.”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Dan said. “I’m the king of bad at relationships, or at least I used to be. You live and you learn, and hopefully stop making the mistakes that screwed up your last relationship.”

Which was the one skill Jack had yet to master. When it came to businesses and bottom lines, he could shift gears and learn from the past. But with other people…not so much. Maybe it was because he had gone too many years trying to prove himself to a father who didn’t love him or appreciate him. Jack had kept striving for a connection that never existed. That made him either a glutton for punishment or a fool. “Or just avoid relationships all together.”

Dan chuckled. “What are you going to do? Become a monk?”

“I don’t know. Think they’re taking applications?” Jack grinned. Nah, he wouldn’t become a monk, but he wasn’t at a point in his life where he wanted or needed a committed relationship.

He was trying to buckle down and do the right thing where Knight Enterprises was concerned. Juggling yet another commitment seemed like an impossible task. Deep down inside, he worried more about getting too close to a woman. He’d screwed things up with Tanya, and had plenty of relationship detritus in his past to prove his lack of commitment skills. He had been his father’s son in business—and a part of Jack wondered if he’d be his son in a marriage, too. The easiest course—keep his head down and his focus on work. Rather than try to fix the one part of his life that had been impossible to repair.

“When do I have time to date?” Jack said. “I barely have enough spare time to order a pizza.”

Except he had found plenty of time to think and wonder about Marnie. His wandering mind had set him a good day behind on his To Do list. He really needed to focus, not daydream. By definition, the sassy matchmaker believed in destiny and true love and all of that. Jack, well, Jack hadn’t been good at either of those.

“Aw, you meet Miss Right and you’ll change your tune,” Dan said. “Like me. Helen has me rethinking this whole love in the later years concept.”

“All that from one meeting?”

“I told you, she’s a special lady. When you know, you know.”

Jack would argue with that point. He’d never had that all-encompassing, couldn’t-talk-about-anything-else feeling for a woman before.

Well, that was, until he met Marnie. She’d stuck in his mind like bubble gum, sweet, delicious, addictive. Maybe Dan had a point. But in the end, Jack still sucked at relationships and pursuing Marnie Franklin could only end with a broken heart. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her or wondering about her. And why her attitude toward him had done a sudden 180.

Had his reputation preceded him? Had he hurt her somehow, too, in the years he’d worked with his father? Jack decided to do a little research in the morning and see if there was a connection. A memory nagged in the back of his head, but didn’t take hold.

Jack pulled in front of the renovated brownstone where he lived, a building much like himself—filled with unique character, a speckled history, but still a little rough around the edges.

While his stepfather headed off—whistling—to the shower, Jack grabbed a bag of chips, taking them out to the balcony. He scrolled through his phone, past the endless stream of emails and voice mails. Work called to him, a non-stop siren of demands. On any other day, he’d welcome the distraction and challenges. But not today. Today, he just wanted to sit back, enjoy the sunshine and think about the choices he’d made.

Maybe his stepfather had a point. Maybe it was time to date again, to make a serious commitment to something other than a cell phone plan and a profit and loss statement. He’d been working for two years to make up for the past, and still it hadn’t fulfilled him like he thought it would. Nor had it eased the guilt that haunted his nights. It was as if he was missing something, some key that would bring it all together. Or maybe Dan was right and Jack needed to open his heart, too. A monumental task, and one he had never tackled successfully before.

He took a chip, the fragile snack crumbling in his hand, and thought maybe he was a fool for believing in things that could crumble at any moment.

CHAPTER THREE

AS SOON AS her mother left on her date with Dan that night, the condo echoed. Empty, quiet. Helen had been at Marnie’s house for the better part of the afternoon, indulging in a lot of mother-daughter chatting and taking a whirl through Marnie’s closet to borrow a fun, flirty dress. Helen’s contagious verve had Marnie in stitches, laughing until her sides hurt. But once Ma was gone, the mood deflated and reality intruded.

Marnie tried working, gave up, and gathered her planner and laptop into a big tote and headed out the door. Five minutes later, she was sweating on a treadmill at the gym near her house. It had been weeks since she’d had time for a good workout and as the beats drummed in her head, and the cardio revved up her heart, the stresses of the day began to melt away.

Someone got on the treadmill beside her, but Marnie didn’t notice for a few seconds. As she passed the three-mile mark, she pressed the speed button, slowing her pace to a fast walk. Her breath heaved in and out of her chest, but in a good way, giving her that satisfaction of a hard job done well.

“You’re making me feel like a couch potato.”

She swiveled her head to the right, and saw Jack Knight, doing an easy jog on the other treadmill. Her hand reached up, unconsciously brushing away the sweat on her brow and giving her bangs a quick swipe. Damn. She should have put on some makeup or lip gloss or something. Then she cursed herself for caring how she looked. She wasn’t interested in Jack Knight or what he thought about her, all sweaty and messy. Not one bit.

Then why did her gaze linger on his long, defined legs, his broad chest? Why did she notice the way the simple gray T and dark navy shorts he wore gave him a casual, sexy edge? Why did her heart skip a beat when he smiled at her? And why did her hormones keep ignoring the direct orders from her brain?

“I’m impressed.” He glanced at the digital display on her treadmill. “Great pace, nice distance.”

“Thanks.” She took her pace down another notch, and pressed the cool down button. “Are you a member at this gym? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“That’s because most of the time, I’m here in the middle of the night, after I finally leave the office for the day. At that time, I have the whole place pretty much to myself.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “I thought the gym closes at ten.”

“It does. I have…special privileges.” He broke into a light jog, arms moving, legs flexing. His effortless run caused a modest uptick in his breathing, leaving Marnie the one now impressed. She’d have been huffing and puffing by now.

“Let me guess,” she said. “A cute girl at the front desk gave you a key?”

“Nope. My key comes from one of the owners.”

“You?”

“I don’t own it,” he said. “I have a…vested interest in this gym. One of my high school friends bought it, and when he was struggling, he needed an investor, so I stepped in.”

“You did?” She tried to keep the surprise from her voice, but didn’t quite make it. “That’s really…nice.”

Not the kind of thing she expected from Jack Knight, evil corporate raider. He’d saved the gym owned by his friend, but not her father’s business. Did he only help friends? And let a stranger’s businesses fall to pieces? Or was there a nice guy buried deep inside him?

Or were there a few things she hadn’t accepted about her father’s company and his role in its demise?

A part of Marnie had always avoided looking too close at the details, because keeping them at bay let her keep her focus on Knight as the evil conglomerate at fault. But deep down inside Marnie knew her affable, distracted, creative father wasn’t the best businessman in the world. Helen refused to talk about it, refused to open those “dark doors” as she called them, to the past. And right now, right here, Marnie didn’t want to open them either.

Jack leaned over, the scent of soap and man filling the space between them and sending that zing through Marnie all over again. “See? I told you, I’m not as bad as you think I am.”

Her face heated. She reached for the hand towel on the treadmill and swiped at her cheeks, then took a deep gulp of water from her water bottle. “I never said you were a horrible person.”

Out loud.

“You didn’t have to. It was in the way you drove away from the restaurant earlier and in your stinging rejection of my invitation to coffee.” He bumped up the speed on his treadmill and increased his jog pace, his arms moving in concert with his legs. “And it was just coffee, Marnie, not a lifetime commitment.”

He was right. A cup of coffee with a handsome man wasn’t a crime.

Except this handsome man was Jack Knight, who had destroyed her father’s company in one of his “investments.” She doubted he even realized what he had done to her family, and how that loss had hurt all of them in more than just Tom Franklin’s bank account.

She opened her mouth to tell him what she really thought of him, then stopped herself. That urge to keep the peace resurged, coupled with a burst of protectiveness. If Marnie lashed out at Jack, the conversation would get back to Dan and her mother. She had yet to tell her mother who Dan really was, unable to bring herself to wipe that smile off Helen’s face, to hurt her mother or disappoint her. Somehow, she had to tell her the truth, though, and do it soon.

Wouldn’t it be smart to go into that conversation armed with information? And the best way to gather information without the other party suspecting? Dine with the enemy.

Maybe her father hadn’t been businessman of the year, but she knew as well as she knew her own name that Knight Enterprises had been part of the company’s downfall, too. If she could figure out how and why, then she could go to her mother and warn her away from Dan. Maybe then both Franklin women would have closure…and peace.

“You know, you’re right. It’s not a lifetime commitment,” she said before she could think twice. “I’ll take you up on your coffee offer.”

He arched a brow in surprise, and turned toward her, but didn’t slow his pace. “Where and when?”

“As soon as you finish your run. If that works for you.”

Jack glanced at the time remaining on the treadmill’s display and nodded. “Sounds good. How about if I meet you up front in twenty minutes?”

Enough time for her to hit the locker room and get cleaned up. Not that she cared what she looked like with Jack Knight, of course. It was merely because she was going out in public.

As she stepped into the shower and washed up, she second guessed her decision. Getting close to Jack Knight could be dangerous on a dozen different levels. A matchmaker knew better than to put Romeo and Juliet together—and especially not enemies like her and Jack. She had no business seeing him, dating him, or even thinking about either.

She still remembered her father’s heartbreak, how he had become a shell of the man he used to be, sitting at home, purposeless, waiting for a miracle that never came. His life’s work, gone in an instant. And all because of Jack Knight.

The last of the lather went down the shower drain. She’d have coffee with Jack, and in the process, maybe find a way to exact a little revenge for how he had let her father fail, rather than help the struggling businessman succeed.

What was that they said about revenge? That it was a dish best served cold? Well, this one was going to be rich, dark and steaming hot.

Seventeen minutes later, Jack stood in the lobby of the health club, showered, changed, and his heart beating a mile a minute. He told himself it was from the hard, short run on the treadmill, but he knew better. There was something about Marnie Franklin that intrigued him in ways he hadn’t been intrigued in a hell of a long time.

Her smile, for one. It lit her green eyes, danced in her features, seemed to brighten the room.

Her sass, for another. Marnie was a woman who could clearly give as good as she got, and that was something he didn’t often find.

Her love/hate for him, for a third. He knew attraction, and could swear she’d been attracted to him when they first met. Then somewhere along the way, she’d started to dislike him. Yet at the same time, she seemed to war with those two emotions.

He had done some preliminary research before he hit the gym, but his files were filled with Franklins, a common enough last name. Then it hit him.

Tom Franklin.

A printer, with a small shop in Boston. Nice guy, but such a muddled, messy businessman that Jack had at first balked when his father asked him to take on Top Notch Printing as a client. He hadn’t realized at the time what his father’s real plan was—

Well, maybe he had, and hadn’t wanted to accept the truth. Buy up the company for pennies on the dollar, to pave the way for a big-dollar competitor moving into town, another branch of the Knight investment tree. Within weeks, Tom Franklin had been out of business.

Oh, damn. If Marnie was that Franklin, Jack had a hell of a lot to make up for. And no idea how to do it. Jack’s memory told him that none of Tom’s daughters had been named Marnie, though, so he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was all some kind of weird coincidence.

Just then Marnie came down the hall, wearing a navy and white striped skirt that swooshed around her knees, and a bright yellow blouse that offset the deep red of her hair. She had on flats, which was a change from the heels he’d seen her in before, but on Marnie, they looked sweet, cute. Her skin still had that dewy just showered look, and like the other two times he’d seen her, she’d put her hair back in a clip that left a few stray tendrils curling along her neck. The whole effect was…devastating. His fingers itched to see what it would take to get her to let her hair down, literally and figuratively. To see Marnie Franklin unfettered, wild, sexy.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “There’s that chain coffee shop—”

He shook his head. “I’m not exactly a decaf venti kind of guy. When I want coffee, I want just that. So, the question is—” at this he took a step closer to her, telling himself it was just to catch a whiff of that intoxicating perfume she wore, a combination of flowers and dark nights “—do you trust me?”

Her eyes widened and she inhaled a quick breath. Then a grin quirked up on one side of her face, and she raised her chin a notch. Sassy. “No, I don’t. But I’ll take my chances anyway.”

“Pretty risky.”

“I’m not worried. I carry pepper spray.”

A laugh burst out of him, then he turned and opened the health club door for her. As she ducked past him, he leaned in again and caught another whiff of that amazing perfume. Damn sexy, and addictive. “You surprise me, Marnie Franklin. Not too many people do that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She tossed the last over her shoulder, before walking into the waning sunshine.

He fell into step beside her, the two of them shifting into small talk about the weather and the treadmills at the gym as they walked down the busy main street for a couple of blocks before turning right on a small side street. Dusk had settled on the city. Coupled with the dark overlay of leafy trees it made for a cozy, peaceful stroll. For Jack, the walk was as familiar as the back of his hand.

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