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felt his muscles loosen. Grabbing a notepad, he began to scribble notes, questions. Within twenty minutes, he formulated a plan for how to help Lori Jean Granger find a suitable husband, all the while trying to drown out the sound of the theme song from
Mission: Impossible in his mind.
    The following morning, Lori made sure she was ready early for Jackson, since he’d called her assistant and told her to expect him at 10:00 a.m. sharp. She was still stinging from the fact that he’d caught her in such an embarrassing position the morning before. She had no doubt that Jackson was mentally tough and she would have to stay on her toes at all times to keep up with him. He’d already let her know he was no pushover.
    Grimacing at the prospect of meeting with him again, she checked her watch: 9:55 a.m. The doorbell rang. What an anal man, she thought, at the same time conceding that most good accountants probably were detail-oriented. It was a necessary trait for the job. She wrinkled her nose. The fact didn’t make working with him any easier.
    She opened the door and caught a look of surprise on his face. “What?” she asked, immediately feeling defensive. “You expected me to have another hangover? I’m not a drunk.”
    He shook his head. “I didn’t say you were a drunk. I was surprised Mabel didn’t answer the door,” he said and entered the foyer.
    “Oh.” She felt as if someone had pricked her balloon. She met his level gaze and felt unsettled. “I’m assuming you’ve decided to work with me on my husband hunt.”
    He cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes in irritation. “Against my better judgment.” He jerked his head impatiently. “If you’re dead set on it, let’s get on with it.”
    “I’m definitely dead set,” she said, sensing his supreme disapproval of her and trying not to feel on edge because of it. Walking with him toward the study, she told herself she didn’t care what Jackson thought of her as long as he helped her accomplish her goal.
    He held the door open for her, then waited for her to sit before he took his seat across from her. Pulling out a pad of paper and a pen, he sighed and scratched his head. “I have some questions I need you to answer. Do you have an age preference for your husband?”
    She blinked. “I hadn’t really thought about it. If he were going to be a real husband, I don’t think I would want to marry someone too old. Older than me, though.” She shrugged. “But since I’m only going to be married to him for a few years, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
    “Unless he dies,” Jackson muttered.
    “Which would make me a very young widow-” Lori broke off. “I wonder what the requirements are if I’m widowed. If I married someone really old, maybe-”
    Jackson groaned. “If you married someone really old, you’d have to contend with his heirs.”
    Lori made a face. “Oh, well, scratch that idea.”
    “Age preference,” Jackson repeated.
    “Twenty-eight to forty,” she said.
    He scratched her answer on his pad of paper. “What about education?”
    “What about it?”
    “Do you care if this guy has a college degree or not?”
    Lori sighed. The truth was that she didn’t want to overthink this. She just wanted to do it so she could get it over with and have it interrupt her life as little as possible. “I suppose so.”
    Jackson nodded and made another note on his paper. “Do you have a preference about his physical appearance? Height, weight, body type, hair color, that kind of thing.”
    Lori gnawed her lip. “I’m not sure you’re getting this. I don’t really want to have to be married. I don’t want to spend much time with this man. Any time,” she added. “I want this to be a strictly business arrangement.”
    “And you don’t care what the press will say about it?” Jackson asked, his gaze level.
    Lori opened her mouth to answer no.
    “You don’t care what your friends will say behind your back. You don’t care what