Reckless in Paradise by Trish Morey Read Free Book Online Page B

intense, orangeslooking like flames from the fires of hell. Nothing, it seemed, was pastel, least of all the man walking alongside her right now. He was large and powerful and darker in impression than any man had a right to be, and it wasn’t just the flowers that looked like they’d stepped straight from hell. With his chiselled dark beauty and the power he wore like a cloak, he could be the ruler of the underworld.
    She stopped and shivered slightly, not liking the direction of her thoughts, turning instead towards the waiting chopper, the pilot sitting patiently at the controls. ‘So why the chopper?’
    â€˜Where is the wedding to be held?’
    She groaned inwardly. Couldn’t he just answer a simple question? The man was jumping around so much it was impossible to get a handle on him. He’d gone from arrogant to abusive to underhand to reconciliatory in the time most people could have lingered over a lazy Sunday brunch. But, then again, what did his character faults really matter as long as he did right by his sister and her brother? It wasn’t as though Sophie had to like him. Not that there was any chance of that.
    â€˜I’ve booked the Tropical Palms golf club on the Gold Coast. I’m confirming it tomorrow, first thing.’
    He scowled, and if his PA had been here, Sophie could imagine the girl running for cover. ‘A golf club is going to play host to my sister’s wedding?’
    She wasn’t his PA and yet still she bristled, feeling defensive, knowing she shouldn’t give a damn about his reaction but unable to help it. She’d wanted something more exclusive, sure, but given the timing… ‘It was all I could get at short notice. We were lucky as it was to score a cancellation. And Monica’s happy with the venue.’ She stole a breath, paused for thought and wondered why it mattered. Damn the man! Whyshould she have to justify the choice of venue? ‘Monica’s more than happy, actually, because when all’s said and done she just wants to marry Jake as soon as possible.’
    She caught the flicker in his eyes, that tell-tale tic in his jaw even while he tried to put an appearance of civility over his hard, chiselled features, and she wondered again what the hell this was all about. Why his sudden interest in the arrangements? Why the sudden change of heart that meant he could even contemplate his sister’s wedding?
    Especially when it was crystal clear that he found the idea of his sister marrying Jake repugnant.
    Sure, he’d been taken by surprise by his sister’s news—but to go from being vehemently opposed to the match to suddenly being so interested in the details of the wedding seemed too good to be true. It had to be too good to be true.
    She crossed her arms over her slim briefcase in front of her. ‘What is this all about, Mr Caruana? And this time I’d appreciate a straight answer.’
    He smiled, if you could call it that. ‘I want to show you something—a place better befitting any marriage of my sister.’
    â€˜I just told you, we have a venue. Monica—’
    â€˜You have a golf club.’
    â€˜It’s a reception centre.’
    â€˜It’s old, overrated and it’s not good enough, not for Monica. It’s too public, it’s too cheap.’
    â€˜Monica and Jake are working to a budget on this.’
    â€˜As head of Monica’s family, I should be paying for my sister’s wedding. People will expect it. You will make me look cheap.’
    â€˜I’m sorry.’ She turned away, unable to listen any longer; she’d heard enough. Did Mr Impossible care about nothing but himself and the impression he made? ‘It may surprise you to know that this wedding isn’t actually about you.’
    â€˜Maybe not, but everyone will assume that I am paying. The press will have a field day, claiming that Daniel Caruana spends less on his