The Billionaire's Gamble by Ava Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

was tired. He opened his mouth to say something again and then closed it. She’d been very clear on her plans to stay, and he wouldn’t challenge her twice.
    They painted until midnight, and he finally made a show of yawning like a sleepy lion sunning himself on the Serengeti. He darn well knew she’d stay as long as he did. The woman had pride, and he admired her for it.
    “You’re probably still jet-lagged,” she said, setting her roller into the paint tray and stretching her back.
    Her breasts thrust out with the motion, and even though he felt like a total pig, he couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful line of her body. His mouth went dry, his palms grew damp, and all he wanted to do was throw aside his paint roller, cross the room to her, and kiss her. Wildly. Passionately. Ardently.
    “Okay,” she said, straightening. “Let’s clean up and head back to the house.”
    He cleared his thick throat, and she looked over. Her whole body stilled, and he made himself look away. He had twenty-nine more days of celibacy since he’d based it on a thirty-one day month like an idiot. Lusting after her now would do neither one of them any good, especially if he let her know how he felt.
    “I’ll clean the rollers if you want to pour the paint back into the cans,” he said, picking them up and heading to the industrial kitchen.
    When he returned, she was turning his invention from side to side like she was trying to decipher how her artist tenant had turned into MacGyver. The comparison was more apt than she knew, which made Evan pretty proud given that it was one of his favorite shows of all time.
    “You’re pretty handy,” she commented, staring at him now. “Why do I have a feeling you’re more than an artist?”
    He forced a poker face. It hadn’t dawned on him that he might give himself away by inventing something so simple. All she had to do was Google “Evan the inventor,” and he’d show up in the results.
    “Even da Vinci had to create inventions to make his artistic work come alive,” he told her. “I like to create things.”
    “Da Vinci, huh?” she said, setting his new pride and joy aside. “That’s a pretty big comparison.”
    For Evan Murray, it was. For Evan Michaels, well…he didn’t like to brag, but he thought Maestro would be impressed with some of his inventions if they ever met in a parallel universe.
    Evan made himself shrug casually. “You know what they say. ‘That which you admire in another is already inside of you.’”
    It was exactly what Chase had said to him after he’d finally confessed how much he admired the other man’s ease of being…well, a man’s man.
    “I’ve never heard that saying,” Margie said, picking up her purse and walking to the door. “I’ll have to remember it.”
    He turned off his laptop and stuffed it into the backpack he’d bought. Then, he delicately tucked his new mistress into the bag. It was going to sleep beside him tonight. He didn’t care if that made him weird.
    “You’re taking that with you?” she asked, her gaze flicking from the backpack to him.
    “Ah…” He felt his ears flush. “I want to see if there are any other improvements I can make. When I was in your kitchen cleaning the rollers, I realized that space could use a good coat of paint too. You should add it to the list.”
    “Already done. It’s going to be painted a sunny yellow since I’ll have start baking at three a.m., well before the sun rises.”
    “The mere thought of that schedule makes me want to throw up,” he answered honestly. When he was in Paris, he was usually still partying at three a.m. or strolling on the streets in the quiet. Paris was beautiful at night, and when he was lonely, he liked to walk amongst the statues and imagine that they were alive and keeping him company.
    “Don’t judge my new routine. If I don’t get up then, I’ll be depriving Dare Valley of their morning pastries. I’m sure you’ve enjoyed Paris’ baked