This one must be special," Duncan looks over my shoulder at my laptop and brushes my cheek with a kiss that makes me smile.

It also makes me feel guilty. I rarely bring work home with me and I never bring it into the bedroom.

Nodding and still smiling I keep scrolling through the notes I've taken. Duncan moves closer till he practically has me in his lap.

"Sorry," I mumble to my husband apologetically as his arm wraps around me and he sets his chin on my shoulder.

I feel him shrug lightly and his breath tickles my collar bone with his short laugh.

"Babe, you know I don't mind," he tells me, "I love watching you help people find what we have."

Duncan's lips brush my shoulder before he rests his chin back where it was.

The man really is a saint.

"This Tiffany woman must really be special." He repeats his earlier remark with a nod in the direction of my laptop that jostles me sideways.

"Hmm," I answer absently as I compare my notes from my last conversation with the woman in question against her answers to the questionnaire, "yeah, I guess so. There's just something about her. I can't get her out of my head."

"Uh oh," Duncan teases, "Don't tell me she doesn't believe in true love?"

He annunciates "true love" like a side character from the Princess Bride. It makes me laugh but I also shove him off of my shoulder with a hard push.

He falls over on his side of the bed. Serves him right.

"Tsk tsk," he shakes his head sadly as he burrows down under the covers and lays his head in my lap, forcing me to reposition the computer. "She obviously hired the wrong match-maker if she thinks she's going to find a simple marriage of convenience trope to her personal romance novel."

I thump him on the forehead. Why can't he listen to me when I tell him to take the trash out?

Then I smooth his hair back from his face and trace the line of his jaw. It's nice to know he's been paying attention to something all these years.

"Let me up and I'll go work downstairs," I tell him, my fingers running along the stubble on his chin while I watch him smile with his eyes closed.

"Mm, no," he tells me after a second of thought, "I like having you in my bed." His hand settles between my knees and rests there, "Stay and work in here, you know it doesn't bother me." He opens his eyes and lifts his head to look up at me, "You find Tiffany her happily ever after, Sweetie, you know you want to prove her wrong."

Duncan relaxes his head on my thigh again and before I know it he's already drifted off.

I keep reading through the notes from the personal interviews, comparing mine to my assistant's, and then comparing those to the questionnaire.

No. Mrs. Tiffany Henries-Rowe does not believe in True Love but she's still willing to pay me handsomely to find her a husband.

A new husband, technically.

Looking through her application, I can see why love doesn't rank high on her agenda.

I see a lot of heartbreak in my field as a professional marriage broker. People come to the decision to hire someone to arrange their mates for them for a lot of reasons and bad luck with love is certainly at the top of the list, but Tiffany has more reasons than most to give up on Cupid.

Reaching for the legal tablet I've been using to jot down key points on, I set it on the bed next to me so I don't disturb Duncan and scribble a few more thoughts.

Her late husband was found dead at his desk in his office just one week after their wedding from a congenital heart condition he never even knew about. They never even made it to their honeymoon-- it was scheduled for the following month.

My husband is right though, this woman is looking for something convenient. A marriage that's more akin to a business arrangement. She tells me she'd like a man in her life to share household expenses and responsibilities with, who will provide "companionship" and "security."

I listen to the ball point pen scratch against the notepad and feel my face pull into a frown.

The answers she's given both me and my assistant when we've talked to her in person say she's only willing to maintain a sexual relationship with her husband because it's to be expected, but the answers on the questionnaire tell the story of a woman with a passionate appetite.

A few more notes, lining up a few tell-tale answers and making connections between some key factors, and I feel confident I've narrowed down the thing that has me so hung up on Tiffany's application.

She can keep telling me she's only seeking a "sensible arrangement" all she wants, but Tiffany Henries-Rowe is a woman who's ready to love again.

Closing down the laptop and setting everything aside on the nightstand, I turn off the lamp.

Duncan moves his head back onto his pillow and wraps his arm around my waist as I settle in against him under the covers.

"Do you know who you're marrying her off to yet?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Not yet, Babe," I say, "but I have an idea."