The Billionaire's Gamble Read Online Free PDF Page A

into her coffee and everything she did at the shop. And she saved and saved and saved, knowing the time would come for her to have her own business in Dare Valley—one that would give people the same sensation as Kemstead’s cinnamon rolls.
    Then fate had delivered her dream to her. When word spread that the current owners were selling Kemstead’s, she pounced. Grandma Kemstead, nearing seventy, cried when she shared her story and promised to continue their legacy of feeding Dare Valley with love, one cinnamon roll at a time.
    “Sounds like quite a revelation,” Evan said, returning her to the present moment. “As an adopted Parisian, no one knows the power of food better than me. Trust me, you have a winner here.”
    She grinned. “Thanks. I think so too, but it never hurts to have other opinions.”
    “I have a feeling you’re going to wow the town with your baking,” he said, leaning a little bit more on the island like he was suddenly tired.
    “You must be jet-lagged,” she realized. “Why don’t I help you carry your things inside?”
    He took out his keys. “I can get everything. I’ll be right back.”
    She found herself admiring his excellent tush before she realized she’d forgotten to ask him how he’d be spending his days in Dare Valley.
    “Evan,” she said, and the word felt as delicious on her tongue as the cinnamon roll’s caramel sauce. He turned around and gave her that same look—the one that told her he was really paying attention. “What are you going to be doing all month? I mean, will you be around the house most of the time?” Normally, she respected people’s privacy, but no one had ever worked from the house full-time, and she rather liked coming home to find it empty sometimes.
    “I need to get a job,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Otherwise I’ll go crazy. Got any ideas? I can work for free since I know most people wouldn’t want to hire someone just for a month.”
    Hmm…her mind started to spin with an idea.
    “You mentioned painting,” she said. “How would you feel about painting Kemstead’s for me? I know it’s not quite art, but I have quite a lot to paint, and it will go faster if I have help.” Maybe she could even delegate it to him completely if he was more than merely competent. “I can pay you fifteen dollars an hour,” she added, calculating her outlay costs in her mind.
    “You just found yourself a painter,” he said and gave a sexy shrug. “Just don’t expect Degas, okay?”
    Her laughter bubbled out of her. “What? No Degas? I’m crushed. I was so looking forward to a ballerina mural.”

Chapter 3
    The next day Evan wasn’t painting willowy ballerinas all Impressionist-like. No, he was measuring out and laying blue paint tape in preparation for the painting, which was about as far from glamorous as a person could get. He’d watched a few how-to videos on YouTube, and it hadn’t looked too hard.
    No one had told him how much time it would take to do all the prep work. His eyes were starting to cross as he ripped off a measure of tape and tried to lay it exactly against the baseboards. The problem was that each time he laid down tape and stepped away, it looked crooked. At first he figured it was ineptitude on his part, but after repeating the process a few too many times, he finally grabbed one of the tape measurers in Margie’s toolbox—a girly pink number that made him cringe every time he needed something from it. After taking the measurements and then grabbing a level, he finally realized what was wrong. Nothing in the entire bakery was level due to the building’s age.
    This job was so going to suck. But he was going to grin and bear it. She was trusting him with her dream, and after seeing her eyes light up like stars as she walked him through her vision, he was determined not to let her down. He’d had a dream once, one he’d made into reality with his business partner and current chief financial officer, Chase Parker. He