Free The Wedding Night by Unknown

smiled grimly. "I can reach my own conclusions . Provided I am given all the evidence to evaluate, of course."
    "What’s that supposed to mean?"
    She drew herself up proudly. "It means, Owen, that as long as we are setting ground rules for this battle, I have a rule of my own."
    "And that is?" He eyed her warily.
    "And that is, that in the future, you will not deliberately withhold important information from me. I am not a child, and I will not allow you to treat me like one."
    He scowled. "You are also not involved in the hotel business. I fail to see why I should inform you of every little decision I make that involves my business."
    "I am not asking you to inform me of every little decision. Just those decisions that directly affect me."
    "The plans for the merger and stock offering didn’t affect you, but you’re holding me responsible for not telling you about them," he shot back.
    Angie nodded. "Definitely. Because as far as I am concerned they did affect me."
    "Only to your way of thinking. How am I supposed to know which decisions you’ll think affect you?"
    Angie smiled. "Beats me. You’ll have to be very careful and conscientious, won’t you? Probably best to err on the liberal side, Owen. Just get in the habit of telling me everything and that way you won’t go far wrong."
    He stared at her in outrage. "Why, you little…" He broke off, shaking his head again. "I can’t believe this. Who do you think you are?"
    "Mrs. Owen Sutherland. For better or worse, apparently." Angie strode past him, feeling vastly more cheerful than she had a few minutes ago. She went through the study door.
    "Angie, come back here. I’m talking to you." Owen stalked out of the study behind her. "Damn it, where are you going?"
    "To get something to eat. I’m starving." She went down the hall toward the kitchen. "Dining en famille had a bad effect on my appetite earlier this evening. But arguing with you has sharpened it again. I hope your housekeeper is big on storing leftovers."
    Owen did not say another word as he followed her down the long hall. When they reached the huge, immaculate kitchen he stood in the center of the tiled floor, hands on his hips, and watched in
    bemusement as Angie opened one of the two large white refrigerators.
    Angie stood bathed in the glow of the refrigerator light and surveyed the shelves of neatly wrapped and packaged items. "We’re in luck. Looks just like the deli section of a first-class supermarket." She bent to lift the lid of one plastic container. "Aha. Tuna." She tried another container. "Pasta salad. This gets better and better. Now all we need are a few crackers."
    Angie chose two or three items from the refrigerator shelves and carried them to the table in the corner.
    She set down her haul and went across the room to flick the switch on the wall. The fluorescent lamps overhead winked and came on, illuminating the sparkling white kitchen. Angie started opening
    cupboards.
    "You’re going to eat all that?" Owen asked, his gaze on the cartons of food waiting on the table. He did not move from the center of the room.
    "I told you, I’m hungry. Arguing always gives me a voracious appetite." Angie smiled with satisfaction as she spotted a box of crackers. "Here we go. All set."
    She found a couple of knives and two forks in a drawer, then sat at the table. Owen still did not move as she arranged the goodies and started piling tuna onto crackers. When she had a plateful, she sat back and looked at Owen.
    "Would you like some?" she asked politely.
    Still wearing his bemused expression, Owen came slowly across the room and sat across from her at the small table. Without a word he picked up a cracker and took a large bite out of it. He chewed reflectively for a moment. When he was finished he popped the rest of the cracker into his mouth.
    Angie helped herself to two crackers then eyed the pasta salad with interest.
    "Angie?"
    "What?" She scooped out a spoonful of the salad and put it on a