A Perfect Match. Deb Kastner
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Zeke’s angel didn’t believe in love? What kind of nonsense was this?
He whirled to Julia. Her golden hair swirled about her like a halo, and his breath caught before he could speak. He forced words through his tight throat. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Or confused.
He wanted to take her into his arms and prove it, but he could hardly act on those feelings. Nor could he leave it quite alone.
He reached out and gently swiped a thumb down her cheek. “You are wrong about love. And if it takes me forever, I’m going to prove it to you.”
DEB KASTNER
is the wife of a Reformed Episcopal minister, so it was natural for her to find her niche in the Christian/Inspirational romance market. She enjoys tackling the issues of faith and trust within the context of a romance. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and brooding heroes. Her plots fall anywhere between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and three girls and, whenever she can manage, attending regional dinner theater and touring Broadway musicals.
A Perfect Match
Deb Kastner
www.millsandboon.co.uk
MILLS & BOON
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For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.
—Ephesians 2:8-9
A big thank-you to Pam Hopkins for all she’s done for my career. You’re my own “perfect match” for a literary agent. What can I say? You’re the best!
To Melissa, editor extraordinaire.
Thanks for all your hard work and enthusiasm. You encourage me with your kindness.
To the Love Inspired Ladies.
Your love, integrity and work ethic inspire me to new heights.
Love always and forever to Joe, Annie, Kimmie and Katie.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
“You marry a man, not an occupation.” Lakeisha Wilson made her point, loud and clear.
But it wasn’t as if Julia Evans hadn’t already considered every angle of her Great Scheme. It was simply a matter of helping her dear friend grasp the concept.
“He is a man,” Julia reasoned aloud, though softly. She didn’t want Thomas and Evy Martin, sitting across the round table from them, to overhear the private conversation. Goodness knows she didn’t want her exceptional ideas exposed to the eyes of the whole waiting world.
It was enough that Lakeisha was going to give her a hard time about it. And if her dear friend of twenty-four years didn’t understand, no one would. It was a wretched way to begin.
Smothering a half smile, she coolly shifted her gaze to the subject in question—the Object of her Affection.
Well, not affection, precisely, but be that as it may…
Father Bryan Cummings.
Tall, dark and handsome.
More to the point, ordained to the ministry and headed for a great career in evangelism, maybe even internationally.
He didn’t know it yet, but she’d chosen him for a very special project.
Marriage.
Sunshine glistened off his straight, dark hair, and his smile was perfect and white. Practiced, even.
He’d told her once that image was everything. If he smiled to himself in the mirror to get it just right, no one was the wiser. And Julia would never tell.
Father Bryan was surrounded by a raucous group of young men dressed in everything from khakis and polo shirts to little more than patchy fluorescent swimming trunks and bare feet.
Though he stood on the opposite side of the swimming pool from where Julia sat sipping her iced tea, she could tell he was in the middle of a heated theological discussion with his friends.
In Julia’s experience with him, Bryan didn’t speak about much else besides the tenants of the faith. His idea of polite conversation was debating the merits and nuances of each of the five points of Calvinism. With Scriptural proofs.
That, Julia supposed,