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It took a moment for his words to sink in. ‘You mean...?’
‘I mean we want you, Mia. Not Nora. I want everything associated with this wedding to be a joy for Carla. She likes you. And that’s rarer than you might think.’ He suddenly frowned. ‘How much will taking charge of this affect your traineeship? Will I be creating a problem for you there?’
He was giving her an out. If she wanted one. If...
She pulled in a breath. ‘The wedding is nine months away, right?’
He nodded.
Being Carla’s liaison wouldn’t be a full-time job. Very slowly she nodded too. ‘That leaves me plenty of time to continue with my fieldwork and studies.’
If it weren’t for Dylan she wouldn’t have a job right now or a chance to finish her traineeship. She owed him. Big-time. She made a resolution then and there to do all she could to make Carla’s wedding a spectacular success.
Her gaze rested on the chocolate bar he’d handed to her earlier. She suddenly realised how she could tacitly thank him right now. Without giving herself time to think, she ripped off the wrapper and bit into it.
‘I’m ravenous. And this is so good.’
As she’d known he would, he grinned in delight that his gift had given her pleasure. She closed her eyes to savour the soft milky creaminess, and when she opened them again she found his gaze fastened on her lips, the blue of his eyes deepening and darkening, and her stomach pitched.
She set the chocolate to the table and wiped damp palms down her trousers. ‘I... This is probably a stupid thing to raise...’
He folded his arms. ‘Out with it.’
‘I don’t believe you have any interest in me beyond that of any employer, but after what Gordon just accused me of...’
She couldn’t meet his eyes. The thing was, Gordon had recognised what she’d so desperately wanted to keep hidden—that she found Dylan attractive. Very attractive. He’d woken something inside her that she desperately wanted to put back to sleep.
‘I just want to make it clear that I’m not in the market for a relationship. Any kind of relationship—hot and heavy or fun and flirty.’
She read derision in his eyes. But before she could dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment at his feet she realised the derision was aimed at himself—not at her.
‘No relationships? Noted.’ He rolled his shoulders. ‘Mia, I have a tendency to flirt—it’s a result of the circles I move in—but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun. My clients like to feel important and, as they are important to me, I like to make them feel valued. I plan celebrations, parties, and it’s my job to make the entire process as enjoyable as possible. So charm and a sense of fun have become second nature to me. If I’ve given you the wrong impression...’
‘Oh, no, you haven’t!’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m not in the market for a relationship at the moment either.’
She glanced up.
Why not?
That’s no concern of yours.
Humour flitted through his eyes. ‘But what about friendship? Do you have anything against that?’
That made her smile. People like Dylan didn’t become friends with people like her. Once the wedding was over she’d never see him again.
‘I have nothing whatsoever against friendship.’ She’d sworn never again to steal or cheat. A little white lie, though, didn’t count. Did it...?
* * *
Thierry Geroux, Carla’s fiancé, was as dark and scowling as Carla and Dylan were golden and gregarious. Mia couldn’t help but wonder what on earth Carla saw in him.
She pushed that thought away. It was none of her business.
As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Thierry turned his scowl on her. She wanted to tell him not to bother—that his scowls didn’t frighten her...she’d been scowled at by professionals. She didn’t, of course. She just sent him one of the bland smiles she’d become so adept at.
‘Do you have any questions, Mr Geroux?’ He’d barely spoken two words in the last hour.
‘No.’
‘None?’ Dylan double-checked, a frown creasing his brow.
‘Stop bouncing,’ Thierry said in irritation to Carla, who clung to his arm, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
‘But, Thierry, it’s so exciting!’
Nevertheless she stopped bouncing.
Thierry turned to Dylan. ‘Carla is to have the wedding she wants. As you’re the events expert, I’m sure you have that under control.’
He ignored Mia completely. Which suited Mia just fine.
Dylan turned back to Mia. ‘There could be quite a gap between the end of the wedding ceremony and the start of the reception, while Carla and Thierry have photographs taken.’
Mia nodded. ‘It;s often the case. With it being late spring there’ll still be plenty of light left. I can organise a tour of the wildlife exhibits for those who are interested.’
‘Oh!’ Carla jumped up and down. ‘Could we do that now?’
‘Absolutely.’
The exhibits—a system of aviaries and enclosures—were sympathetically set into the natural landscape. A wooden walkway meandered through the arrangement at mid-tree height. This meant visitors could view many of the birds at eye level, practically commune with the rock wallabies sunning themselves on their craggy hillside, and look down on the wombats, echidnas and goannas in their pens.
At the heart of the wildlife walk—and the jewel in its crown—was the koala house. Set up like an enormous tree house, the wooden structure was covered on three sides to weatherproof it for visitors, with an arena opening out below full of native flora and an artfully designed pond.
The entire complex was enclosed in a huge aviary. A visitor could glance up into the trees to view the variety of colourful parrots, or along the rafters of the tree house to see the napping tawny frogmouths. Below were a myriad of walking birds, along with the occasional wallaby and echidna. But at eye-level were the koalas on their specially designed poles, where fresh eucalyptus leaves were placed daily. No wire or special glass separated man from beast—only a wooden railing and a ten-foot drop into the enclosure below.
‘I love this place,’ Carla breathed as they entered.
‘This is really something,’ Dylan murmured in Mia’s ear.
His breath fanned the hair at her temples and awareness skidded up her spine. ‘It’s a special place,’ she agreed, moving away—needing to put some distance between them.
When they’d looked their fill, she led them back outside to a series of small nocturnal houses—the first of which was the snake house.
Carla gave a shudder. ‘No matter how much I try, I don’t like snakes.’
They didn’t bother Mia, but she nodded. ‘We don’t have to linger. We can move straight on to the amphibian house and then the possum house.’
‘C’mon, Thierry.’
Carla tugged on his arm, evidently eager to leave, but he disengaged her hand. ‘You go ahead. I find snakes fascinating.’
Finally the man showed some interest—hallelujah!
Thierry glanced at her. ‘Mia might be kind enough to stay behind with me and answer some questions?’
The snakes might not bother her, but Mia loathed the caged darkness of the nocturnal houses, hating the way they made her feel trapped. She didn’t betray any of that by so much of a flicker of her eyelids, though.
‘I’d be happy to answer any questions.’
Dylan caught her eye and gestured that he and Carla would move on, and she nodded to let him know that she and Thierry would catch up.
She moved to stand beside Thierry, nodding at the slender green snake with the bright yellow throat that he currently surveyed. ‘That’s a tree snake. It’s—’
‘I can read.’
She sucked in a breath. Was he being deliberately rude? She lifted her chin. He might be hard work, but she was used to hard work.
‘They’re very common,’ she continued, ‘but rarely seen as they’re so shy. They seldom bite. Their main form of defence is to give off a rather dreadful odour when threatened.’
Mia was convinced there was a metaphor for life trapped in there somewhere.
‘You give off a bad smell too.’
Thierry moved so quickly that before she knew what he was doing he had her trapped between the wall and a glass display unit—the olive python on the other side didn’t stir.
‘Dylan told us about your background—that you’re nothing but a common little thief with a criminal record.’
The sudden sense of confinement had her heart leaping into her throat before surging back into her chest to thump off the walls of her ribs.
‘When I was in jail—’ with a supreme effort she kept her voice utterly devoid of emotion ‘—I learned a lot about self-defence and how to hurt someone. If you don’t take two steps back within the next three seconds you’re going to find yourself on your back in a screaming mess of pain.’
He waited the full three seconds, but he did move away. Mia tried to stop her shoulders from sagging as she dragged a grateful breath into her lungs.
He stabbed a finger at her. ‘I don’t like you.’
And that should matter to me because...? She bit the words back. She’d had a lot of practice at swallowing sarcastic rejoinders. She’d made it a policy long ago not to inflame a situation if she could help it.
‘Carla and Dylan are too trusting by half—but you won’t find me so gullible.’
Giving a person the benefit of the doubt did not make Dylan gullible.
‘You’re not a fit person for Carla to know. You stay away from her, you hear? If you don’t I’ll cause trouble for you...and that’s a promise.’
‘Is everything okay here?’
A strip of sunlight slashed through the darkness as Dylan came back through the doors. The doors were merely thick flaps of overlapping black rubber that kept the sun out. A few threads of light backlit him, haloing his head and shading his face. Mia didn’t need to see his face to sense the tension rippling through him.
Without another word Thierry snapped away and moved through the rubber panels, his footsteps loud on the wooden walkway as he strode off.
‘Are you okay?’
Dylan’s concern, absurdly, made her want to cry in a way that Thierry’s threats hadn’t.
‘Yes, of course.’ She turned and gestured to the snakes. ‘Just so you know: a reptile encounter can be arranged for the wedding guests too, if anyone’s interested. Though it has to be said it’s not to everyone’s taste.’
* * *
Dylan took Mia’s arm and led her back out into the sunshine, wincing at her pallor.
Her colour started to return after a few deep breaths and he found the rapid beat of his heart slowed in direct proportion.
‘I heard the last part of what Thierry said to you.’
He hadn’t liked the way Thierry had asked Mia to stay behind. It was why he’d doubled back—to make sure everything was okay.
‘It’s not the first time someone has taken exception to my past, Dylan, and I expect it won’t be the last.’
Her revelation yesterday had shocked him—prison!—but he’d have had to be blind not to see how much she regretted that part of her life. He’d sensed her sincerity in wanting to create a new, honest life for herself. She’d paid dearly for whatever mistakes lay in her past. As far as he was concerned she should be allowed to get on with things in peace.
Thierry’s threat, the utter contempt in his voice...
Dylan’s hands clenched. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to knock someone to the ground. He’d wanted to deck Thierry, though. He’d wanted to beat the man black and blue.
He dragged a hand down his face. It had only been the thought of who’d pay for his actions—Mia—that had stopped him.
You didn’t even think of Carla!
Mia stared up at him, her gaze steady. ‘Don’t blame Thierry. He only has Carla’s welfare in mind.’
‘It doesn’t excuse his behaviour.’ A scowl scuffed through him. ‘The man’s a bully and a jerk. What the hell does Carla see in him?’
She gestured that they should continue along the path towards the amphibian house. ‘Don’t you know?’
He didn’t have a single clue.
‘Haven’t the two of you talked about him?’
Not really. But to say as much would only reveal what a poor excuse for a brother he’d been to Carla these last twelve months.
He glanced across at Mia and found that she’d paled again, but before he could ask her if she was okay she’d plunged into the darkness of the amphibian house. Was she worried about running into Thierry again?
He plunged right in after her.
‘Do you want to linger?’
He couldn’t have said how he knew, but he sensed the tension coiling through her. ‘No.’
