“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 door. They stood awkwardly together in the street, and Janine realized they hardly knew what to say to each other.