An Unlikely Bride For The Billionaire

‘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.

Finally she placed her arms beneath him with a cheery, ‘Up we come, Charlie.’

The emu gave a kind of strangled beep before a stream of something green and vicious-looking shot out of the back of him, splattering all over the front of Mia’s shirt. Only then did the bird struggle fully to its feet and race off towards a water trough. Mia stumbled backwards, a comical look of surprise on her face. She turned towards Dylan, utterly crestfallen and...and covered in bird poop.

Dylan clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back a shout of laughter. Don’t laugh! An awful lot of women he knew would have simply burst into tears. If he laughed and then she cried he’d have to comfort her...and then he’d end up with bird poop all over him too.

Mia didn’t cry. She pushed her shoulders back and squelched back over to the gate in the fence with as much dignity as she could muster. Still, even she had to find it difficult to maintain a sense of dignity when she was covered in bird poop.

She lifted her chin, as if reading that thought in his face. ‘As you can see, Charlie left me a little present for my pains.’

He swallowed, schooling his features. ‘You did a very good deed, Mia.’

‘The thing is, when an emu gets stressed, the stress can result in...’ she glanced down at herself, her nose wrinkling ‘...diarrhoea.’

‘God, I’m so glad those birds can’t fly!’

The heartfelt words shot out of him, and Mia’s lips started to twitch as if the funny side of the situation had finally hit her.

Dylan couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. ‘I’m sorry, Mia. You deserve better, but the look on your face when it happened... It was priceless!’

She grinned, tentatively touching the front of her shirt. ‘That rotten bird! Here I am, supposedly trying to impress you and your sister with our marvellous facilities...and now you’re going to live in fear of projectile diarrhoea from the native animals!’

The sudden image that came to his mind made him roar until he was doubled over. Mia threw her head back and laughed right alongside him. She laughed with an uninhibited gusto that transformed her completely. He’d glimpsed the mischievous imp earlier, but now she seemed to come alive—as if her mirth had broken some dam wall—as if she were a desert suddenly blooming with wildflowers.

Dylan’s heart surged against his ribs and for a moment all he could do was stare. ‘You should do that more often, you know. Laugh. You’re beautiful when you laugh.’

She glanced up at him, the laughter dying on her lips. Something in the air shimmered between them, making them both blink. Her gaze lowered momentarily to his lips, before she turned beetroot-red. Swinging away, she stumbled across to the tap that stood by the gate in the fence.

Heat pulsed through him. So...the serious Mia wasn’t immune to his charms after all?

The next moment he silently swore. Damn! He deserved a giant kick to the seat of his pants. She’d accused him of flirting earlier—but he hadn’t meant to give her the wrong impression. He didn’t want her thinking anything could happen between them. All flirtation and teasing on his part was entirely without intent.

She knelt at the tap and scrubbed at her shirt with a piece of rag. She must keep a veritable tool shed of handiness in those cargo pants of hers.

He watched in silence as she washed the worst of the mess from her shirt. ‘I have a handkerchief if you need it.’

‘Thank you, but I think this is the best I’m going to manage until I can change my shirt. Shall we continue on to the lily pond?’

‘Yes, please.’

She gestured towards the path. ‘Do you mind if I ring the office to give them an update on Charlie?’

‘Not at all.’

And just like that they withdrew back into reserved professionalism. But something new pounded through Dylan—a curiosity that hadn’t been there before. What an intriguing paradox Mia was proving to be...a fascinating enigma.

Which you don’t have time for.

With a sigh, he pushed thoughts of Mia from his mind and forced his attention back to the impending wedding. He had to focus on what really mattered. He couldn’t let Carla down—not when she needed him.

CHAPTER TWO

THEY REACHED THE lily pond two minutes later. The moment Dylan clapped eyes on the enchanting glade he understood why Carla had fallen in love with it. True to its name, large green lily pads decorated a small but picturesque body of oval water. Native trees and shrubs curved around three of its sides. The fourth side opened out to a large circle of green lawn.

Mia pointed to that now. ‘This area is large enough for our medium-sized marquee, which holds sixty guests comfortably. That leaves the area behind for the caterers to set up their tents and vans for the food.’

Carla chose that moment to come rushing up—which was just as well, as Dylan had found himself suddenly in danger of getting caught up on the way Mia’s wet shirt clung to her chest.

Carla grinned at Mia—‘Surprise!’—before taking Dylan’s arm and jumping from one foot to the other. ‘Isn’t this just the most perfect spot?’

He glanced down at her—at her smile made radiant with her newfound happiness. ‘It’s lovely,’ he agreed, resolve solidifying in his gut. This wedding had come out of left field, taking him completely by surprise. But if this was what Carla truly wanted, he meant to create the perfect wedding for her. ‘Where’s Thierry?’

A cloud passed across her face. ‘Something’s come up. He can’t make it.’

That was the problem. Thierry. Dylan didn’t like the man.

His sister had suffered enough misery in her life, and Dylan had every intention of protecting her from further heartache.

Carla moved towards Mia. ‘Please tell me you’re not cross with me.’

‘So...you’re not really Carly Smith, frequent visitor and keen student of environmentalism?’

Carla shook her head.

Mia glanced down at her notepad. ‘With your background, I imagine you need to be careful with your privacy.’

Carla winced. ‘Please tell me you don’t hate me. You’ve been so kind. I love shadowing you when you’re on duty for the wildlife displays. You never talk down to me or treat me like I’m stupid. Oh!’ she added in a rush. ‘And just so you know, I really do have a keen interest in the environment and conservation.’

Mia smiled. ‘Of course I don’t hate you.’

That smile made Dylan’s skin tighten. When she smiled she wasn’t plain. And when she laughed she was beautiful.

He pushed those thoughts away. They had no bearing on anything. Her smile told him what he needed to know—Mia genuinely liked his sister. That was what mattered.

‘Right.’ Mia consulted her notepad. ‘I want to hear every tiny detail you have planned for this wedding.’

‘Hasn’t Dylan told you anything?’

Mia glanced at him. ‘We didn’t want to start without you.’

That was unexpectedly diplomatic.

He stood back while the pair started discussing wedding preparations, jumping from one topic to the next as if it made utterly logical sense to do so. He watched them and then shook his head. Had he really thought Carla needed exuberance from Mia? Thank heaven Mia had seen the wisdom in not trying to fake it. He silently blessed her tact in not asking where Mia’s maid of honour or bridesmaids or any female relative might be too.

Carla didn’t have anyone but him.

And now Thierry.

And Mia in the short term.

He crossed his fingers and prayed that Thierry would finally give Carla all that she needed...and all that she deserved.

* * *

Mia spent two hours with Carla and Dylan, though Dylan rarely spoke now Carla was there. She told herself she was glad. She told herself that she didn’t miss his teasing.

Except she did. A little.

Which told her that the way she’d chosen to live her life had a few flaws in it.

Still, even if he had wanted to speak it would have been difficult for him to get a word in, with Carla jumping from topic to topic in a fever of enthusiasm.

She was so different from Carly Smith, the wide-eyed visitor to the park that Mia had taken under her wing. She took in the heightened colour in Carla’s cheeks, the way her eyes glittered, how she could barely keep still, and nodded. Love was exactly like that and Mia wanted no part of it ever again.

Carla spoke at a hundred miles an hour. She cooed about the colour scheme she wanted—pink, of course—and the table decorations she’d seen in a magazine, as well as the cake she’d fallen in love with. She rattled off guest numbers and seating arrangements in one breath and told her about the world-class photographer she was hoping to book in the next. Oh, and then there was the string quartet that was apparently ‘divine’.

She bounced from favours and bouquets to napkins and place settings along with a million other things that Mia hastily jotted down, but the one thing she didn’t mention was the bridal party. At one point Mia opened her mouth to ask, but behind his sister’s back Dylan surreptitiously shook his head and Mia closed it again.

Maybe Carla hadn’t decided on her attendants yet. Mia suspected that the politics surrounding bridesmaid hierarchy could be fraught. Especially for a big society wedding.

Only it wasn’t going to be big. It was going to be a very select and exclusive group of fifty guests. Which might mean that Carla didn’t want a large bridal party.

Every now and again, though, Carla would falter. She’d glance at her brother and without fail Dylan would step in and smooth whatever wrinkle had brought Carla up short, and then off she would go again.

Beneath Carla’s manic excitement Mia sensed a lurking vulnerability, and she couldn’t prevent a sense of protectiveness from welling through her. She’d warmed to Carly—Carla—the moment she’d met her. For all her natural warmth and enthusiasm she had seemed a little lost, and it had soothed something inside Mia to chat to her about the programmes Plum Pines ran, to talk to her about the animals and their daily routines.

As a rule, Mia did her best not to warm towards people. She did her best not to let them warm towards her either. But to remain coolly professional and aloof with Carla—the way she’d tried to be with Dylan—somehow seemed akin to kicking a puppy.

While many of her work colleagues thought her a cold and unfeeling witch, Mia didn’t kick puppies. She didn’t kick anyone. Except herself—mentally—on a regular basis.

‘Can I come back with Thierry tomorrow and go over all this again?’

Why hadn’t the groom-to-be been here today?

‘Yes, of course.’

Hopefully tomorrow Nora would be back to take over and Mia would be safely ensconced on the reserve’s eastern boundary, communing with weeds.

Carla glanced at her watch. ‘I promised Thierry I’d meet him for lunch. I have to run.’ She turned to her brother. ‘Dylan...?’ Her voice held a note of warning.

He raised his hands, palms outwards. ‘I’ll sort everything—I promise. Mia and I will go back to the office and thrash it all out.’

Mia’s chest clenched. Thrash what out? She didn’t have the authority to thrash anything out.

She must have looked crestfallen, because Dylan laughed. ‘Buck up, Mia. It’ll be fun.’ He waggled his eyebrows.

Mia rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t crush the anticipation that flitted through her.

‘I’ll buy you a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin.’

His grin could melt an ice queen.

Lucky, then, that she was made of sterner stuff than ice.

‘You’ll do no such thing.’ She stowed her notepad in her back pocket as they headed back towards the main concourse. ‘Gordon Coulter would be scandalised. All refreshments will be courtesy of Plum Pines.’

During the last two hours they’d moved from the lily pond back to the office, to pore over brochures, and then outside again to a vacant picnic table, where Carla had declared she wanted to drink in the serenity. Now, with many grateful thanks, Carla moved towards the car park while Mia led Dylan to the Pine Plum’s café.

He grinned at the cashier, and Mia didn’t blame the woman for blinking as if she’d been temporarily blinded.

‘We’ll have two large cappuccinos and two of those.’ He pointed at the cupcakes sitting beneath a large glass dome before Mia had a chance to speak.

‘You mean to eat two cupcakes and drink two mugs of coffee?’ She tried to keep the acerbity out of her voice.

‘No.’ He spoke slowly as if to a child. ‘One coffee and one cake are yours.’

Mia glanced at the cashier. ‘Make that one large cappuccino, one pot of tea and one cupcake, thank you. It’s to go on Nora’s events account.’

Without further ado she led him to a table with an outlook over the duck pond.

‘You’re not hungry?’ he asked.

She was ravenous, but she’d brought her lunch to work, expecting to be stranded on the eastern boundary, and she hated waste. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said. It was easier than explaining that in Gordon Coulter’s eyes the events account didn’t extend to buying her any food. ‘Besides, I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.’

She frowned, unsure why she’d added that last bit.

For a moment he looked as if he were waging an internal battle with himself, but then he folded his arms on the table and leaned towards her, his eyes dancing. ‘Are you telling me, Mia...?’

She swallowed at the way he crooned her name, as if it were the sweetest of sweet things.

‘...that you don’t like cake?’

He said it with wide eyes, as if the very idea was scandalous. He was teasing her again. She resisted the almost alien urge to tease him back.

‘I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It’s just not something I ever find myself craving.’

His mouth kinked at one corner. Mia did her best to look away.

‘Now I have to discover what it is you do crave.’

How could he make that sound so suggestive?

‘Cheesecake? Ice cream?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to find something to use as a bribe?’

‘Chocolate?’

Oh. He had her there. ‘Chocolate is in a class of its own.’

He laughed, and something inside her shifted. No shifting! She had to remain on her guard around this man. He’d called her beautiful and something in her world had tilted. She had no intention of letting that happen again.

‘You made my sister very happy today. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.’

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. ‘I... I was just doing my job.’

‘It was more than that, and we both know it.’

She didn’t want it to be more. This was just a job like any other. ‘Naturally Carla is excited. I enjoyed discussing her plans with her.’

To her surprise, she realised she was speaking nothing less than the truth.

Their order was set in front of them. When the waitress left Dylan broke off a piece of cupcake, generously topped with frosting, and held it out to her. ‘Would you like a taste?’

Unbidden, hunger roared through her. For the briefest of moments she was tempted to open her mouth and let him feed her the morsel. Her throat dried and her stomach churned. On the table, her hands clenched to fists.

She choked out a, ‘No, thank you,’ before busying herself with her tea.

Why now? Why should a man have such an effect on her now? In the last ten months she’d been asked out on dates...the occasional volunteer had tried to flirt with her...but nothing had pierced her armour.

None of them looked like Dylan Fairweather.

True. But was she really so shallow that someone’s looks could have such an impact?

When she glanced back up she saw Gordon Coulter, glaring at her from the café’s doorway. Had he seen Dylan offer her the bite of cake? Great. Just great.

She shuffled her mantel of professionalism back around her. ‘Now, you better tell me what it is you promised Carla you’d sort out. It sounded ominous.’

He popped the piece of cake into his mouth and closed his eyes in bliss as he chewed. ‘You have no idea what you’re missing.’

And she needed to keep it that way.

She tried to stop her gaze lingering on his mouth.

His eyes sprang open, alive with mischief. ‘I bet you love honey sandwiches made with the softest of fresh white bread.’

She had to bite her inner lip to stop herself from laughing. ‘Honey makes my teeth ache.’

The man was irrepressible, and it occurred to her that it wasn’t his startling looks that spoke to her but his childish sense of fun.

‘Ha! But I nearly succeeded in making you laugh again.’

She didn’t laugh, but she did smile. It was impossible not to.

Mia didn’t do fun. Maybe that was a mistake too. Maybe she needed to let a little fun into her life and then someone like Dylan wouldn’t rock her foundations so roundly.

He made as if to punch the air in victory. ‘You should do that more often. It’s not good for you to be so serious all the time.’

His words made her pull back. She knew he was only teasing, but he had no idea what was good for her.

She pulled her notepad from her pocket and flipped it open to a new page. ‘Will you please tell me what it is you promised Carla you’d take care of?’

He surveyed her as he took a huge bite of cake. She tried not to fidget under that oddly penetrating gaze.

‘Don’t you ever let your hair down just a little?’

‘This is my job. And this—’ she gestured around ‘—is my place of employment. I have a responsibility to my employer to not “let my hair down” on the job.’ She tapped her pen against the notepad. ‘I think it’s probably worth mentioning that you aren’t my employer’s only wedding account either.’

She spoke gently, but hoped he sensed the thread of steel beneath her words. There also were cages that needed cleaning, animals that needed feeding and logbooks to fill out. They weren’t all going to get magically done while Dylan lingered over coffee and cake.

And it didn’t matter how much he might temporarily fill her with an insane desire to kick back and take the rest of the day off—that wasn’t going to happen.

‘Ouch.’ He said it with a good-natured grin. ‘But you’re right. Carla and I have taken up enough of your time for one day. Especially as we’ll be back tomorrow.’

He was coming too? She tried to ignore the way her heart hitched.

‘Mia, do you know what line of work I’m in?’

Even she, who’d spent most of her adult life living under a rock, knew what Dylan Fairweather did for a living. ‘You created and run Fairweather Event Enterprises.’ More widely known as Fairweather Events or FWE. Dylan had made his name bringing some of the world’s most famous, not to mention notorious, rock acts to Australia.