Under the Millionaire's Mistletoe Read Online Free PDF

the French name means trick the eye. With the right artist, you can pretty much remodel your entire home without lifting a hammer.”
    â€œAnd you’re the ‘right’ artist?”
    â€œI’m really good,” she said simply.
    â€œI bet you are.”
    She flushed a little and hated herself for it. But shewould defy any woman in the world to remain completely cool and unruffled with this particular man focusing all of his attention on her.
    He watched her. “Explain what you mean about the painting.”
    She didn’t know what he was up to, but as long as she was there anyway, she couldn’t resist talking about her favorite kind of work. “For instance, on that long wall over there, I could paint a set of French doors opening onto an English garden. It would look real enough to convince you that you could step outside and smell the flowers.” She looked back at him. “Or I could give you an ocean scene complete with crashing waves and seabirds overhead. I could really, within reason, give you anything you wanted.”
    Oh, boy, that had come out a lot different than it sounded in her head. He must have been thinking the same thing, because something hot and wicked flashed in his eyes.
    â€œAnd what do you charge for this amazing service?”
    She cleared her throat, inhaled sharply and told herself that he didn’t really care. He wasn’t actually interested. So she gave him a price well above what she would normally charge for a mural.
    He didn’t even blink.
    â€œI’ll give you twice that if you can have it done before Christmas.”
    â€œAre you serious?” He couldn’t be, she told herself. This was all part of some twisted game. He’d brought her here for his own purposes, whatever they were, and now he was dangling a great job in front of her like bait.
    The hell of it was, it was working.
    â€œYes, I’m serious,” he told her, and walked toward her with slow, measured steps.
    â€œWhy?” Anna stared up into his deep blue eyes and didn’t flinch from the gleam of passion she saw shining at her. “Why would you hire me? Why would you offer so much money?”
    â€œDoes it matter?”
    She wrestled with that question for a second or two. Her mind raced with arguments, pro and con. One part of her wanted to throw his offer in his face and march out the door, head held high. The other, more practical side of her was shrieking, Are you crazy? Take the job!
    In a couple more silent seconds, she had already tallied up the bills she could pay if she took the job he offered. It had been a slow couple of months in the world of faux finishing and with this one job, she could cover her expenses for another two months. Not to mention the Christmas presents she could buy if she took this commission.
    The downside was obvious.
    She’d be spending a lot of time with a man who both infuriated and excited her. Who needed that kind of irritation on a daily basis? Not to mention the fact that her body tended to light up like a fireworks display whenever he was within three feet of her. That couldn’t end well.
    â€œSo what’ll it be?” he asked, a sly smile on his face as if he knew she was arguing with herself. “Stay or go?”
    His satisfied expression told Anna that he was completely sure of himself. He thought he had her pegged. That she was just another woman ready to grab the money and run.
    She should go. She knew it. She’d love to be able to look into his eyes and say, “No, you can’t buy me.” Butas satisfying as that sounded, she knew she wasn’t going to walk away.
    She couldn’t afford to.
    â€œFine,” she muttered. “I’ll take the job.”
    â€œThought you might.”
    To keep from saying something she would no doubt regret, she bit her tongue. The man was more irritating than he was gorgeous, which was really saying something. She’d work