Michelle Douglas - An Unlikely Bride For The Billionaire

She moved off again, with her no-nonsense stride, and after another glance at where the tortoise had disappeared he set off after her.

‘Have you had any weddings that haven’t extended beyond seven p.m.?’ All of the weddings he’d ever attended had kicked on into the wee small hours.

‘There’s been a trend for morning weddings with lunchtime receptions. So, yes.’

She was so serious. And literal. He found himself starting to laugh.

She glanced at him, a frown crinkling her forehead. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘You’re not so good at small talk, are you?’

Her face fell and she stuttered to a halt. ‘You want small talk?’

That made him laugh again. ‘How do you enforce the seven p.m. closing time?’

‘We close the gates to the car parks. There’s a hefty fine involved to have the gates opened. Our people, along with your security firm, will have a list of your guests’ number plates so they can come and go as they please.’

‘Right.’

‘And, as Plum Pines is in the middle of suburbia, we don’t get much foot traffic or many homeless people looking for a place to put up for the night.’

That was something, he supposed.

She consulted her notepad. ‘Do you know how many guests the bride and groom are planning to invite?’

‘Carla informs me that she wants “a small and intimate affair”.’

That frown crinkled her brow again. ‘Do you happen to know what your sister’s idea of “small” might be?’

‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’ He had no idea if Thierry came from a large family or not. The other man had closed up like a clam when Dylan had asked him about them. ‘I can’t say that I know what she means by “intimate” either.’

Mia nodded. ‘I think we can guess that fairly accurately—it probably includes fairy lights strung all around the marquee and surrounding trees, white linen tablecloths with centrepieces involving ivy and candles, vintage china and a string quartet.’

‘You don’t sound like you approve.’

She swung to face him. ‘Mr Fair— Dylan. It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It’s Plum Pines’ job to help Carla plan the wedding she wants.’

‘But—’ He broke off.

‘What were you going to say?’

He read the thought that flashed through her eyes—Gordon Coulter promised nothing would be too much trouble.

‘Dylan, I’ll do my best to deliver whatever is needed.’

Her moss-green eyes stared back at him, earnest and steady, and he found himself needing to pull a breath of air into cramped lungs. ‘I need you to be as committed to this wedding as Carla.’

‘I’m committed—I can promise you that.’ Her teeth worried at her bottom lip. ‘But that’s not what you meant, is it? You want me to be exuberant and...and bouncy.’

He winced, realising how absurd that sounded when uttered out loud. He just wanted to see her smile again. That was what this was all about—and it was pure nonsense on his part.

He rubbed his hand across his nape. ‘I think of weddings and I think of joy and excitement and...and joy.’

He wanted Carla’s life filled with joy—not just her wedding. A fist tightened about his chest. If Thierry hurt her he’d—

Mia moved into his field of vision, making him blink. ‘There’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work that needs doing to make a wedding successful.’ She pointed her pen at him. ‘Joy and excitement are all well and good, but I figure my job is to keep a level head.’

A level head? That was exactly what he needed.

‘Don’t you believe someone can be quietly enthusiastic?’ she asked.

‘Of course they can. I’m sorry.’ He grimaced. ‘It’s the bride who’s supposed to go loopy, right? Not her brother.’

One of those rare smiles peeped out, making his heart thump.

‘You’re excited for her.’ Too soon she sobered again. ‘I’m naturally quiet. It doesn’t mean I’m not invested.’

‘Whereas I’m naturally gregarious.’ It was what made him so good at his job. ‘I sometimes forget that not everyone else is.’

‘Do you still want to see the lily pond?’

‘Yes, please.’ He spoke as gravely as she did. ‘My seeing the lily pond is not dependent on you being exuberant.’

He could have sworn that her lips twitched—for the briefest of moments. It sent a rush of something warm and sweet surging through his veins. He was glad he’d had a chance to meet her on his own. Carla had spoken of her often enough to make his ears prick up. It had been a long time since Carla had made a new female friend.

The question he needed to answer now, though—was Carla more than just a job to Mia? He’d give his right arm for Carla to have a girlfriend with whom to plan her wedding. And whatever the two of them dreamed up—schemed up—he’d make happen.

When he glanced back he found Mia staring at a point beyond him. He swung around to see an emu enclosure...and an emu sitting on the ground in the dirt. He glanced back to find her chewing her lip. ‘Is that emu okay?’ They did sit down, right?

She hesitated. ‘Do you mind...?’ She gestured towards the fence.

‘Not at all.’

‘Hey, Charlie—come on, boy!’ Mia rattled the fence and the emu turned to stare, but when he didn’t otherwise move she pulled out her phone. ‘Janis? It’s Mia. Charlie is looking decidedly under the weather. Can you send someone out to check on him?’ Her lips pressed together as she listened to the person at the other end. ‘He’s sitting down and not responding to my calls.’ She listened some more. ‘But—’

She huffed out a breath and he could see her mentally counting to five.

‘Right. If that’s the best you can do.’ She snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into her pocket.

‘You’re worried about him?’

One slim shoulder lifted. ‘Charlie’s been hand-raised. He’s a social bird. Normally he’d be over here, begging for a treat. Everyone who works here is fond of him.’

Dylan glanced across at the emu. ‘You want to go and give him the once over?’

She glanced around, as if to check that no one had overheard him. ‘Would you mind?’

‘Not at all.’

‘It should only take me a moment. I just want to make sure he doesn’t have something caught around his legs. Discarded plastic bags are the bane of our existence—they seem to blow in from everywhere.’

‘I don’t mind at all.’

Besides, he wanted her full attention once Carla arrived. He wanted her focussed on wedding preparations—not worrying about Charlie the Emu.

She moved towards a gate in the fence and unlocked it with a key she fished out from one of the many pockets of her khaki cargo pants.

She glanced back at him apologetically. ‘I have to ask you to remain on this side of the fence. It’s actually against the law for me to take you in with me.’

‘Believe me, I’m happy to stay on this side of the fence, but...’ he glanced across at Charlie ‘...that emu is huge. What if he attacks you?’

He couldn’t in all conscious just stand here and do nothing.

‘He won’t hurt me. I promise.’

‘In that case I promise to stay on this side of the fence.’

Nevertheless, he found his heart pounding a little too hard as she slipped into the enclosure and made her way towards the giant bird. She ran a soothing hand down its neck, not in the least intimidated by its size. He reminded himself that she was trained to deal with these animals, but he didn’t take his eyes from her.

Slipping her arms beneath the bird, she lifted it to its knees, and Dylan could see something wrapped tight around its ankles. The poor bird was completely tangled! He watched in admiration as she deftly unwound it, shoving the remnants into her pocket. The entire time she crooned soothingly to the emu, telling him what a good boy he was and how pretty he was. Charlie leaned into her as much as he could, trusting her completely.