The Preacher's Daughter by Beverly Lewis Read Free Book Online

them to the kitchen sink.
    Returning, he brought along a bottle of champagne and two glasses. ‘‘Look, babe, who cares how much money our parents throw at this wedding? It’s how we were raised. Our parents have more money than they know what to do with, so what’s the harm?’’
    She shook her head. Either he hadn’t heard a word she’d said or he simply didn’t care. Or worse, he didn’t understand.
    Wealth is all he knows . . . it’s all I know. Of course he doesn’t understand .
    â€˜â€˜I’m tired of this life,’’ she said softly.
    He leaned forward, frowning. ‘‘I don’t think I heard you. You said what?’’
    She was so frustrated, it was all she could do to measure her words, to keep from simply bursting. ‘‘I have no intention of living the way my parents—or yours—do. Look around here . . . at my apartment. This is the real me. I crave secondhand furniture and flea market treasures. Old stuff. Things with class but inexpensive, worn, and scuffed up . . . things that exude character.’’ She paused. ‘‘I thought you knew.’’
    Michael grimaced. ‘‘Isn’t this merely a phase, your latest artistic flair? I didn’t think you were serious.’’ Casually he unwound the wire fastener from the bottle. ‘‘You want the look of poverty, well fine. That’s cool.’’
    She sighed. He doesn’t get it .
    â€˜â€˜What does it matter about the wedding?’’ he continued. ‘‘Why not go along with the plans? You know your parents always get their way. Like they did with you and me.’’
    His words slammed into her heart. ‘‘What are you talking about?’’
    He gripped the bottle and pulled up, grimacing slightly. ‘‘You know. The long-range plan.’’ He popped the cork for effect.
    She blew out a breath. ‘‘What?’’
    Their eyes met, and Michael flashed a smile. ‘‘Surely you remember how we met.’’
    A blind date . ‘‘My dad ran into your dad. . . .’’ She struggled to remember. Where? ‘‘And they began talking, and one thing led to another, and then . . .’’
    He chuckled. ‘‘Well, yeah, but there’s way more to it.’’
    â€˜â€˜More to what?’’
    â€˜â€˜Oh, come on, Louisa. You can’t tell me you didn’t know.’’
    She was unable to breathe. It’s so warm in here .
    He poured champagne into her glass first, then his own. He set the bottle to the side and raised his glass, proposing a toast, waiting for her. But she could only stare at him, too flustered to reach for her glass.
    â€˜â€˜Nothing changes the fact that we belong together, Louisa. Does it really matter how it happened?’’ He gestured toward her champagne. ‘‘I say we make a toast to the future—yours and mine, as well as to my partnership with your father’s law firm . . . eventually, but certain.’’
    She glared at him. ‘‘So that’s what this is? An arrangement?’’
    â€˜â€˜Louisa, don’t play the drama queen.’’
    â€˜â€˜I thought we had something special.’’
    â€˜â€˜We do. Someone simply got the ball rolling, that’s all.’’
    She searched his eyes for some hint of insincerity, some indication he was teasing her. But he was incredibly earnest and more than eager to make the toast.
    He winked at her, as though hoping to humor her. ‘‘To the Berkeley-Stratford merger.’’
    Her mind whirled. Surely we weren’t merely pawns in our fathers’ hands!
    He was smiling at her, attempting to charm her, still holding his glass high. ‘‘Our future is secure and rather limitless. Won’t our children be perfect?’’
    She had not fallen for him for any of those reasons. She