“Simple logic. For starters, it’s obvious that Hannah is Rafe’s passion. You know what they say about us Madisons.”
“Nothing gets between a Madison and his passion,” she recited evenly.
“Right. In addition, your family has a reputation for being good at marriage. I’ve never heard of a Harte getting a divorce. I figure that makes for a winning combination for Rafe and Hannah.”
“I see.” Time to change the topic. “Well, we seem to be in agreement on that point. Why are we arguing about it?”
Gabe turned away from the window and resumed prowling the room. “We’re not arguing. I just wondered how you could be so sure of your conclusions when you hadn’t run Rafe and Hannah through your computer, that’s all.”
She glanced uneasily at the laptop on her desk. She was not about to explain that in the past few months she had been forced to admit to herself that her computer program was not the sole secret of her success as a matchmaker. But the truth was too disturbing to discuss with anyone else, let alone a Madison. She was having a hard enough time dealing with it herself.
The realization that she was relying on her intuition and a hefty dose of common sense combined with the computer’s analysis to get successful matches was fraught with disturbing implications. She was, after all, assuming a huge responsibility with each client. She guided and assisted them in making one of the most important decisions of their lives. The possibility of making a mistake weighed more heavily on her with each passing day. Although nothing awful had happened yet, lately she’d had the uneasy sensation that she was on extremely thin ice.
The time to get out was now, before disaster struck.
She was ready to switch careers, anyway. While her rapidly accumulating qualms about the risks of the matchmaking field were not the main reason she had decided to close down her business, they definitely constituted an added incentive to shut her doors. Fast.
She was not looking forward to announcing her intentions to her family. She knew only too well that the news would not be greeted with wild enthusiasm in the Harte clan. But she had made her plans. The only thing standing between her and her new profession was Gabe Madison. He was the last client left on her active list.
Unfortunately, getting rid of him was proving more difficult than she had anticipated.
Gabe came to a halt in front of her desk, shoved aside one edge of his sleekly cut jacket and hooked his thumb in his belt.
“Let’s get to the bottom line here,” he said. “You want to ditch me because I’m a Madison and you’re a Harte.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling, seeking patience and forbearance. When she got no help from that direction, she took a deep breath instead.
“That’s got nothing to do with this,” she said. “I don’t give a darn about the family feud. Even if I did, I could hardly use it as a reason to drop you from my list now that your brother and my sister are married.”
“Just because Rafe and Hannah got together doesn’t mean that you’ve changed your opinion about the rest of us Madisons.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gabe, it was our grandfathers who started the feud. I couldn’t care less about that old nonsense.”
“Yeah?” He gave her a razor-sharp smile. “You mean that you really believe that I’m capable of making a long-term commitment?”
The sarcasm was too much. She had been through a lot since the day Gabe had shown up here in her office, demanding to sign on as a client. The way he had demolished her private fantasies was the least of it.
“I think you’re perfectly capable of a long-term commitment,” she said. “But it looks to me like you’ve already made it.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not in a relationship.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve got a very serious, very committed, one hundred percent exclusive relationship with Madison Commercial.”
“Madison Commercial is my company,” he said. “Of course I’m committed to it. That’s got nothing to do with getting married.”
“That company is your passion, Gabe. You’ve devoted your entire life to building that business.”
“So what?”
“You’re a Madison,” she said, thoroughly exasperated now. “As you just pointed out, nothing comes between a Madison and his passion.”
“Damn, thisis about me being a Madison.” He jerked his thumb out of his belt and planted his hands flat on her desk. “Youare biased against me because our families have a history.”
“It’s not our family history that is the problem here.” She could feel her temper rising. She had a nasty suspicion that her face was flushed. Probably an unpleasant shade of red. “You’rethe problem.”
“Are you telling me that just because I’m running a successful corporation, I can’t commit to a wife?”
That gave her pause.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said carefully. “But I do think that you’re going to have to refocus if you want to make a relationship work.”
“Define refocus.”
She sighed. “You’re going about this all wrong, Gabe.”
“I’m trying to use a logical, rational, scientifically based technique to find a wife. I would have thought you, of all people, would appreciate that approach.”
“Why? Because I’m a Harte and you Madisons think all Hartes have ice water in their veins?”
“You do own and operate a computerized matchmaking firm, don’t you? Some people would say your line of work requires a pretty cold-blooded approach to marriage.”
Damn. She would not allow Gabriel Madison to make her feel awkward right here in her own office. She was a Harte, after all. Hartes did not put up with this sort of behavior from Madisons.
“There’s a difference between going about the process of finding a mate in an intelligent, logical manner and going about it in a cold-blooded fashion,” she said evenly.
“And I’m being cold-blooded, is that it?”
“Look, you’re the one who filled out the questionnaire that I fed into my computer program, not me.”
There was a beat or two of silence. He watched her with a shuttered look.
“What was wrong with the way I filled it out?” he asked a little too softly.
She tapped the printouts in front of her. “According to these results, you want a robot for a wife.”
“That’s crazy.” He straightened and shoved his fingers through his dark hair. “If that’s the conclusion your idiotic program came up with, you’d damn well better see about getting some new software.”
“I don’t think the program is at fault here.”
“A robot, huh?” He nodded once. “Maybe that’s what went wrong on those five dates you arranged for me. Maybe you sent me out with five robots. Come to think of it, they were all a little too thin and there was something very computerlike about the way they tried to grill me on the subject of my portfolio.”
“You got exactly what you said you wanted, according to the questionnaire,” she said very sweetly. “There was no strong emotion in any of your responses except when it came to the importance of not being matched with what you callarty types and your insistence on a prenuptial agreement.”
“What’s the problem with the lack of strong emotions?”
“For one thing, it makes it extremely difficult to find a match for you.”
“I would have thought taking emotion out of the equation would have made it easier to match me, not harder.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I’m a big believer in approaching marriage logically. I’ve built this business on that premise. But you’ve gone to extremes. You’re hunting for a wife as if you were interviewing a potential employee for an executive slot at Madison Commercial. It won’t work.”
“Why not?” His eyes were emerald hard. His voice fell to an even softer pitch. “Because I’m a Madison and Madisons can’t do anything without getting emotional?”