An Unlikely Bride For The Billionaire

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?’