One Month with the Magnate Read Online Free PDF Page A

if it meant doing much more than heating a frozen dinner in the microwave or boiling water on a hot plate. “I’ll manage.”
    â€œOf course you’ll be responsible for all the shopping as well. You’ll have a car at your disposal. And you’re welcome to eat whatever you desire.” He gave her a quick once-over, not bothering to hide his distaste. “Although from the looks of you, I’m guessing you don’t eat much.”
    Eating required money and that was in short supply these days. She refused to sponge off her mother, whose financial situation was only slightly less grave, and no one was interested in hiring a thief six weeks from a twenty-to-life visit to the slammer. Besides, Isabelle had been such a nervous wreck lately, every time she tried to eat she would get a huge lump in her throat, through which food simply refused to pass.
    She shrugged. “Like they say in Hollywood, there’s no such thing as too thin.”
    â€œI see you still have the same irrational hang-ups about your body,” he snapped back, his contempt so thick she could have choked on it. “I remember that you would only undress in the dark and hide under the covers when I turned the light on.”
    Her only hang-up had been with letting Emilio see the scars and bruises. He would have wanted an explanation, and she knew that if she’d told him the truth, something bad would happen. She’d done it to protect him and he was throwing it back in her face.
    If this was a preview of what she should expect from the next thirty days, it would be a long month. But she could take it. And the less she said, the better.
    The fact that she remained silent, that she didn’t rise to her own defense, seemed to puzzle him. She waited for his next attack, but instead he gestured her out of the kitchen. “The living room is this way.”
    If he had more barbs to throw, he was saving them for another time.
    She could hardly wait.
    Though Emilio’s hospitality left a lot to be desired, his home had all the comforts a person could possibly need. Six bedrooms and eight baths, a state of the art media room and a fitness/game room complete with autographed sports memorabilia. He had a penchant for Mexican pottery and an art collection so vast he could open a gallery. The house was furnished and decorated with a lively, southwestern flair.
    It was as close to perfect as a home could be, the apotheosis of his ambitions, yet for some reason it seemed…empty. Perfect to the point of feeling almost unoccupied. Or maybe it simply lacked a woman’s touch.
    When they got to the master suite he stopped outside the door. “This room is off-limits. The same goes for my office downstairs.”
    Fine with her. That much less work as far as she was concerned. Besides, his bedroom was the last place she wanted to be spending any time.
    He ended the tour there, and they walked back down to the kitchen. “Be sure you study that list, as I expect you to adhere to those exact specifications.”
    Her work would be exemplary. Now that she’d had a taste of how bitter he was, it was essential that she not give him a single reason to find fault with her performance. Toomuch was at stake. “If there’s nothing more, I’ll go to my room now,” she said.
    â€œNo need to rush off.” He peeled off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair. Underneath he wore a form-fitting muscle shirt that accentuated every plane of lean muscle in his chest and abs, and she was far from immune to the physical draw of an attractive man. Especially one she had never completely fallen out of love with. Meaning the less time she spent with him, the better.
    He grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, but didn’t offer her one. “It’s early. Stick around for a while.”
    â€œI’m tired,” she told him. “And I need to study that list.”
    â€œBut we