Marriage of Inconvenience Page 0,2

me?"

She nodded. The worst of it was over. She would pick up the pieces of her life and start again, a little less trusting and a whole lot more wary.

* * *

Two months later, Rich was sitting in his office at Boeing when the image of Jamie Warren's tear-streaked face drifted into his mind. It was as if their conversation had taken place just the night before - even though he'd talked to her two or three times over the holidays, and she'd sounded good. Cheerful, in fact. Certainly in better spirits than he'd been himself.

She hadn't made any attempt to fool him. Tony had hurt her badly. From what she'd said, he'd made several attempts to resume their engagement, but she'd rejected the idea in no uncertain terms. It was plain to Rich that Tony Sanchez didn't really know Jamie Warren. The woman was stubborn enough to impress a mule. Once she made up her mind, that was it. Oh, she appeared docile and easygoing, but Rich had collided with that stubborn streak of hers a time or two and come away battered and bruised.

It bothered Rich that Jamie had never married. She'd always loved children, and he'd fully expected her to have a passel of kids by now.

Most men, he realized, passed Jamie over without a second glance. That bothered him even more.

The problem, not that he'd call it a problem, was that she didn't possess the looks of a beauty queen. She wasn't plain, nor was she unappealing. She was just - he hated to admit it - ordinary. Generally, there was one thing or other that stood out in a woman. A flawless face. Cascades of shining hair, blond or gold or black... Jamie's wasn't blond and it wasn't brunette but somewhere in between. And it wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. Some women had eyes that could pierce a man's soul. Jamie had brown eyes. Regular brown eyes. Not dark or seductive or anything else, just brown eyes. Nice, but average.

She was about five-five, and a little on the thin side. Giving the matter some consideration, Rich noted that there didn't seem to be any distinguishing curves on her. Not her hips, and certainly not her breasts. He could be mistaken of course, since he hadn't really looked at her that way.... To be honest, he'd never looked at her in any way other than as a friend.

She didn't have a body that would stop traffic. The thing was, a woman could have an ordinary face, but if she had curves, men fell all over themselves. Rich hated to admit something so derogatory about his fellow men, but he felt it was true.

What few took the time to see was Jamie's warm heart and generous spirit. He'd never known a more giving woman. What she'd said about being shy was true, even though he'd denied it. Yet she had spunk and she had spirit. Enough to stand up to him, which was no easy thing.

Pushing against the edge of his desk, Rich rolled back his chair and stood up. He headed down the hallway with determination.

"Bill," he said, striding purposefully into his friend's office. "Got a minute?"

"What's up?"

Rich had never played the role of matchmaker before, and he wasn't sure where to start. "There's someone I want you to meet."

"Oh." Bill didn't look too enthusiastic.

"A friend of mine."

"Widowed or divorced?"

"Single."

Bill's brows arched toward his receding hairline. "You mean a leftover girl."

Rich wasn't comfortable thinking of Jamie as leftover, but this wasn't the time to argue. "We went to high school together."

"High school? Exactly how old is she?"

"Thirty-one." Her birthday wasn't until April. Their birthdays were both in April, and Jamie loved to point out that she was a whole week older.

"She's never been married?" Bill asked, his voice rising suspiciously. "What's the matter with her?"

"Nothing. She's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet."

Bill reached for his In basket and took out a file, flipping it open. "I can't tell you how many times friends - " he paused and glanced up " - good friends, have set me up. They always claim the girl's one of the nicest people I'll ever meet. No thanks, Rich."

"No thanks? You haven't heard anything about her."

"I've heard enough."

"What's the matter with you?" It was hard to keep the irritation out of his voice. Bill was thirty-five and twenty pounds overweight, not to mention the receding hairline. Frankly, Rich didn't think his friend had any right to be