Read Online Wedding at King’s Convenience by Maureen Child - Free Book Online Page B

being scolded as if he were a five-year-old who’d thrown a rock through her window.
    “Mrs. Boyle,” Jefferson said, gathering the reins on his simmering temper and trying for a charming smile. “I’ve just spent too many hours on a jet, then driven here from the airport in a rental car that blew a tire on the road and now—” he paused to toss a hard stare at the lowering gray sky “—I’m getting rained on. I’m happy to listen to whatever your complaints might be after you rent me a room so I can change clothes and get settled.”
    “Humph.”
    Her snort was caught between a snide laugh and a jolt of outrage. “Used to giving orders, aren’t you? No doubt your lackeys jump to attention when you snarl. Well, I’m no one’s lackey, boyo, and I’ve no time for the likes of you, Jefferson King.”
    Lackey? He didn’t have lackeys.
    “The likes of—” What the hell had happened to this place in a few short months? Had he stepped into an alternate universe? He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, blinked the raindrops off his lashes and asked, “What did I do? I haven’t even been here in months!”
    She huffed out a breath. “So you haven’t, when you should’ve been, I say. You’re a sad disappointment to me, Mister King.”
    “Disappointment?” Seriously, he felt as though he needed a translator. It was as if the older woman was speaking in code. “What the hell is going on around here?”
    “A decent man would already know the answer to that question.” Her features were hard as stone and hernormally placid eyes were glittering. The toe of her practical black shoe tapped against the linoleum. “And I don’t appreciate you swearing at me in my own home.”
    “I’m not in your home,” he pointed out, as a cold drop of rain sneaked underneath his shirt collar and rolled icily down his spine.
    “And not likely to be any time soon, either.”
    So, he was getting a firsthand lesson in what his film crew had been experiencing. He couldn’t understand this. When he’d been here the last time, Frances Boyle had been warm, funny, friendly. He wasn’t used to being treated with outright disrespect.
    But whatever her problem was with him, he’d deal with it later. All he wanted at the moment was a room, a change of clothes and a meal. Once he was warm, dry and fed, he knew he’d be in better shape to handle not only Mrs. Boyle, but anything else that awaited him in this picturesque village.
    Then he’d be ready to head off to Maura’s farmhouse to settle whatever bug she had up her—He cut that thought off abruptly and tried one last time. “Mrs. Boyle. I just need a room for a couple of days,” he said tightly.
    “A shame for you as I’m full up.”
    “Full? It’s not even tourist season.”
    She sniffed and her voice was cold enough to drop frost on her words. “Be that as it may.”
    Then she closed the door on him with a sharp crack of sound. So much for charm. Fine. He’d just stop at a B and B somewhere along the road. As he recalled, there was one not far from Maura’s farmhouse.
    Still, it stung. Hardly the welcome he’d been expecting.Jefferson turned around on her porch and looked up and down the narrow Main Street of the village. It looked like a postcard, even in this miserable weather. Sidewalks were thin strips of cement that rose up and down as the road willed it. The shops were a rainbow of colors, and smoke drifted upward from chimneys to be caught by the ever-present wind. Doors were closed against the rain currently pummel-ing him and early-blooming flowers in pots bent with the water and wind.
    Scraping one hand across his face, he stepped off the porch and headed for the Lion’s Den pub. At least there, he’d be able to get a meal and something hot to drink. Then he’d face the rest of the drive to Maura’s. As he jogged across the empty street, he told himself that Mrs. Boyle’s attitude was probably just a case of women sticking together. He already knew