An Unlikely Bride For The Billionaire

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.