The Cinderella Bride Read Online Free Page A

spill.”
    â€œLucky me,” she muttered, snatching more tissues. His chuckle would have annoyed her if she wasn’t already battling embarrassment. She could feel Gideon watching her, the scrutiny flustering her so much that she nearly knocked over her remaining tea.
    â€œYou know,” he said, moving the cup out of her reach, “you were pretty lost in thought back there. Mind if I ask what had you so faraway?”
    â€œNothing important.” Just him.
    â€œMust have been somewhat important, because I knocked twice and you didn’t hear me.”
    Emma’s cheeks burned. She concentrated on throwing away lumps of wet tissues, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Your grandmother is waiting for you.”
    â€œI still have ten minutes. You know how she is aboutthe daily cliff-hanger. Tell me, is anyone else attending this meeting?”
    â€œOnly you and Mrs. Kent as far as I know.”
    â€œOh.”
    His voice had dropped a notch, sounding almost…disappointed? Emma abandoned her futile attempt to save the correspondence, and looked up. “Were you expecting someone else?”
    â€œNot really.” His answer had a note of forced nonchalance, then he changed the topic. “What’s the damage?”
    Substantial. The morning’s mail was ruined, as was tomorrow’s agenda notes and a half-dozen employee memos. Just thinking about how much time she would need to reprint them made Emma sigh aloud. “Fortunately, you saved the most important paperwork.”
    â€œYou mean this?”
    Opening the file, he started thumbing through the contents, his expression growing thoughtful. “We’re renovating the Landmark?”
    â€œSo I’ve been told. Your uncle Andrew dropped off the designs this morning.”
    â€œInteresting. What do you think?”
    â€œI only pass along the information,” she replied. “I don’t evaluate it.”
    â€œIs that diplomatic speak for ‘I don’t like it’?” He leaned forward, his eyes lit with what could only be described as mischief. “Come on, Miss O’Rourke, we both know you looked at the designs, if only to make sure the file was complete. What’s your opinion?”
    â€œI told you, I don’t have one.”
    She reached for the folder, but he lifted it away.
    â€œEveryone has an opinion,” he said. “Give me yours.”
    The truth? Gideon had guessed right; she hated the design. But she would never say so. The designer, Josh Silbermann, was considered the leader in contemporary design, and according to Andrew Kent, they were lucky to snag him. Since Andrew sat on more architectural and museum committees than she could count, she had to assume he knew what he was doing, and that she, in her inexperience, simply missed the point. “Your uncle is very excited about the plans.”
    Gideon looked unimpressed. “I’m sure he is. Andrew loves this sort of stuff. But you’re avoiding my question. What is your opinion?”
    â€œMy opinion doesn’t matter. I’m not the one making the decision.”
    He leaned forward. “Humor me.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you’re so determined to dodge the question, and that piques my curiosity. For example, what do you think of…” He fished through the file and pulled out a sketch, a stark study of gunmetal and black with splashes of ice blue. “What about this one?
    She shook her head. Figures. He’d picked the ugliest sketch in the pile.
    â€œCome on, Miss O’Rourke,” Gideon urged, waving the sketch and grinning, “give it up.”
    Clearly, he wasn’t going to stop until she said something. “Fine. It’s cold.”
    â€œCold?”
    â€œThe room. All that black and blue is far too harsh. I would prefer something warmer.” Like the blue of your eyes, she caught herself thinking. “Plus the furniture looks