One Month with the Magnate by Michelle Celmer Read Free Book Online

scorched rice pilaf and a bowl of wilted salad swimming in dressing. He wouldn’t feed it to his dog—if he had one. But what had Emilio expected from someone who had probably never cooked a meal in her entire life?
    Isabelle hadn’t stuck around to witness the aftermath. She’d fixed his plate, then vanished. He’d come downstairs to find it sitting on the dining room table accompanied by a highball glass full of scotch. Maybe she thought that if she got him good and toasted, he wouldn’t notice the disastrous meal.
    He carried his plate to the kitchen and dumped the contents in the trash, then fixed himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate standing at the kitchen sink. Which he noted was a disaster area. Considering all the dirty pots and pans and dishes, it looked as though she’d prepared a ten course meal. He hoped she planned to come out of hiding and clean it up.
    As he was walking to his office, drink in hand, he heard the hum of the vacuum upstairs. Why the hell was she cleaning at seven-thirty in the evening?
    He climbed the stairs and followed the sound to the first guest bedroom. Her back was to him as she vacuumed around the queen-size bed. He leaned in the doorway and watched her. The new uniform was a major improvement,but she still looked painfully thin. She had always been finely boned and willowy, but now she looked downright scrawny.
    But still beautiful. He used to love watching her, even if she was doing nothing more than sitting on his bed doing her class work. He never got tired of looking at her. Even now she possessed a poise and grace that was almost hypnotizing.
    She turned to do the opposite side of the bed and when she saw him standing there she jolted with alarm. She hit the Off switch.
    â€œSurprised to see me?” he asked.
    She looked exhausted. “Did you need something?”
    â€œI just thought you’d like to know that it didn’t work.”
    She frowned. “What didn’t work?”
    â€œYour attempt to poison me.”
    He could see that he’d hurt her feelings, but she lifted her chin in defiance and said, “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. Besides, now that I think about it, smothering you in your sleep will be so much more fun.”
    He nearly cracked a smile. “Is that why you’re trying to incapacitate me with excessive amounts of scotch?”
    She shrugged. “It’s always easier when they don’t fight back.”
    She’d always had a wry sense of humor. He just hadn’t expected her to exercise it. Unless she wasn’t joking. It might not be a bad idea to lock his bedroom door. Just in case.
    â€œWhy are you up here cleaning?” he asked.
    She looked at him funny, as though she thought it was a trick question. “Because that’s what you brought me here to do?”
    â€œWhat I mean is, shouldn’t you be finished for the day?”
    â€œMaybe I should be, but I’m not.”
    It probably wasn’t helping that he’d instructed Mrs. Medina to toss in a few extra tasks on top of her regular duties, though he hadn’t anticipated it taking Isabelle quite this long. He’d just wanted to keep her busy during the day. Apparently it had worked. A little too well.
    â€œI have work to do and the noise is distracting,” he told her.
    She had this look, like she wanted to say something snotty or sarcastic, but she restrained herself. “I’ll try to keep the noise down.”
    â€œSee that you do. And I hope you’re planning to clean the kitchen. It’s a mess.”
    He could tell she was exasperated but struggling to suppress it. “It’s on my list.”
    He wondered what it would take to make her explode. How far he would have to push. In all the time they were together, he’d never once seen her lose her temper. Whenever they came close to having a disagreement she would just…shut down. He’d