Healed with a Kiss. GINA WILKINSЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter One

      Alexis Mosley stood toe to toe with innkeeper Logan Carmichael, not at all intimidated by his dark scowl. “I don’t think my client is asking that much of you, really,” she said coolly. “Can you provide the services she wants or not?”

      “Your client,” he retorted with a deep line carved between his straight, dark eyebrows, “needs to get a grip on reality. This is Southwest Virginia, not Montego Bay. If she wants a Jamaican beach wedding, she should hold it there. Or at the least make the five-hour drive to Virginia Beach and get married where there’s an actual ocean.”

      Alexis sighed gustily. “As I’ve already explained to you, she needs to have the wedding here because she has elderly family members in very poor health who can’t travel easily but want to see her married. She’s dreamed of a Montego Bay wedding because that’s where her fiancé proposed two years ago. That isn’t possible for them this year, so she wants to move up her wedding date to July and re-create the feel here.”

      On this Monday morning in early March, Alexis was consulting with Logan and his two sisters, Kinley and Bonnie, co-owners of Bride Mountain Inn, to determine whether her client’s very specific and somewhat unconventional requests were within reason. According to Logan, they were not.

      With a sardonic expression on his sternly attractive face, he made a slow turn, motioning with one hand to draw her attention to the tidy garden in which they stood, the Queen Anne–style bed-and-breakfast behind them, the white gazebo at the end of a pebbled path. A tall, three-tiered fountain reigned in the center of the still-winter-dormant garden, providing the rhythmic splash of falling water for a soothing sound track. Against the horizon, the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains rose proudly against the pale blue sky. He had a point about the setting looking very little like a Jamaican beach.

      Kinley, predictably enough, jumped into the discussion to state differently. “Of course we can make your client happy! It won’t be the first tropical-themed wedding we’ve held here. We’ll just have to figure out a way to set up to her personal specifications. I’m sure among all of us, we can come up with something.”

      While Logan’s reaction to over-the-top bridal desires was often negative, inveterate saleswoman Kinley’s was just the opposite. To book an event at the inn, she seemed willing to promise just about anything—and yet, surprisingly, she always came through, proving she agreed only to what she knew they could accomplish.

      In almost a year of working with the Carmichael siblings through her event-planning business, Alexis had never registered a complaint after an event at Bride Mountain Inn. She recommended the inn frequently as a venue for the weddings and other special occasions she coordinated. And nearly every time, she ended up wrangling with Logan at some point over the outdoor setups, more than once being told her requests were impossible even though they both knew that somehow he would make it work.

      “Have your client consult with you on a very detailed list of her ideas, then we’ll all get together and discuss them,” Kinley instructed. “Make sure she knows all her decisions have to be made in time for us to make arrangements, and she can’t have last-minute changes with a theme this specific. We’ll do our best to make her happy.”

      Alexis understood Kinley’s need to have everything spelled out in advance to avoid complications later. She operated her own business on exactly the same philosophy. “I’ll explain it to her, of course.”

      “I’ll research some Jamaican recipes in case she wants us to provide special breakfasts or snacks for her guests,” Bonnie contributed, looking intrigued by the challenge. “I’m sure there are many more original ideas than jerk chicken.”

      The siblings didn’t look particularly alike. Kinley had a slender, fit body, brown hair streaked with honey highlights and grayish-blue eyes. Bonnie was petite, with golden-blond curls and big blue eyes. Older brother Logan was hard-carved, medium tall and muscular, with dark hair and hazel eyes. Alexis wouldn’t call him handsome, exactly, but definitely the type of man any red-blooded woman would notice. She’d definitely noticed the first time she’d met him.

      Logan blew out a resigned breath that hung just visible in the crisp morning air. The fleece-lined gray jacket he wore with a T-shirt, jeans and boots was his only concession to the chilly temperature. He would ditch the jacket when the days warmed, but the rest of his outfit remained the same year-round, at least from Alexis’s observation.

      “Just give me and the crew time to work whatever miracle you think I can pull off. You find the stuff she wants, I’ll set it up. But you’re not hauling in sand,” he added