The Millionaire Tempted Fate (A Novella) (Sweet and Savory Romances) Read Online Free PDF

small bowl. Add a little more brown sugar if it’s not as sweet as you want it—remember you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Baste the pork with the sauce, then cook another 10 minutes until it does something fancy—caramelizes.
     
Take the roast out of the oven (use oven mitts; no need to repeat that steak disaster). Let it rest for five minutes before slicing. That should be enough time to give him the message that you’re not giving up easily. Even if the odds are stacked against your happy ending.

C HAPTER F OUR
     

     
    "Are you sure you want to be here?" Max had to shout to be heard above the roaring crowd. Beside him, a couple of drunks arm-wrestled over the last bit of popcorn in the paper bucket, while on the other side, two guys took turns calling wolf-whistles at the women walking the inside perimeter of the ring.
    "Sure. I love wrestling."
    He chuckled. "Honey, this isn’t wrestling, it’s all out fighting. Like to the death."
    Angie just grinned, and settled back in her seat with her nachos, as if she came to UFC fights every night of the week. He’d been surprised when she had texted him that day, saying she’d scored two tickets to the fight and did he want to go. He’d looked at the pile of work on his desk, looked at Angie’s text again, and decided in a heartbeat that spending time with Angie beat out anything else in the world. Plus, he was still curious about the changes in her and the way she’d run—well, hobbled—out of his office yesterday. Something was up with Angie, but what it was, Max couldn’t figure out. Which was weird, because he had always been able to read Angie’s thoughts before. For a man used to looking at the facts and arriving at a logical conclusion, the whole thing felt…weird. Like he was standing on an unbalanced seesaw.
    "Two muscular sweaty guys battling it out?" Angie said. "Of course I want to be here. It doesn’t get much better than that."
    "If you say so," he said, settling in beside her. "I know Becky would never come with me to something like this."
    Angie just smiled and propped her feet up on the back of the chair in front of her. This time she was wearing jeans and practical, low-heeled boots with a V-necked sweater that kept drawing his attention, especially when she slumped down a little in her seat like she was right now and he caught a peek of her cleavage. Hot, that was the best word to describe Angie. Hot and sexy.
    She’d scored second row seats for him, which was about as close to the action as one could get without actually climbing in the ring. The two fighters—a couple of scrappy kids from Roxbury and Somerville—snarled and snapped at each other like two dogs facing off. They circled right, left, throwing out test jabs, while the crowd roared and demanded action.
    Of the eight hundred or so people filling the arena, only about five were women, but if that fact bothered Angie, she didn’t show it. She’d always been game for anything, as long as Max had known her. If she hadn’t been his best friend, he’d have thought she was the perfect woman—beautiful, adventurous, sassy. One of these days some guy was going to capture her heart.
    And that wasn’t a day that Max was looking forward to seeing.
    Insane. He was getting married himself. Of course he wanted Angie to be happy, too. Heck, he’d tried fixing her up yesterday. Except a part of him didn’t want her to meet someone else. A part of him wanted her to always be there for him, to be his rock, his UFC buddy, his everything. A very, very selfish part, clearly.
    He glanced at her, at her dark red lips and her deep green eyes. His gaze traveled down, over the enticing cleavage beneath her sweater, past the flat expanse of her belly, to the taut thighs outlined by her jeans. He cleared his throat and reminded himself that he was supposed to be in love with Becky. He refocused his attention on the fight, instead of Angie.
    The Roxbury kid was built, with dark hair and