An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire Read Online Free Page B

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