The Billionaire's Secret by Ava Miles Read Free Book Online

not here for very long, Evan.” She gripped his hand. “I want to make the most of our time together.”
    He raised her hand to his lips, holding her gaze. “We will. You said being with someone is big for you, and I want to honor that. For you. And for me.”
    She let her mouth curl. “The celibacy thing helped you see sex in a new light, didn’t it?”
    A reluctant smile touched his lips. “Yes, but don’t tell anyone that either. Besides, I have to find a more romantic place to make love to you.”
    Now that surprised her. “Why?”
    “If you think I’m going to knock myself out on your hobbit door trying to carry you to the shower after we make love, you’re kidding yourself. I want…I want it to be everything you’ve ever dreamed about. You’ve…made me dream again, Margie.”
    In that moment, she almost heard the clock ticking down their time together, and it sent a sharp pang through her. She already knew leaving him was going to tear her to pieces. “I don’t want you to go,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
    His heart beat in rapid bursts in his chest, echoing the thundering passion in her body.
    “I have to,” he said, disengaging her arms and kissing her softly on the mouth. “Everything needs to be perfect. So you’ll remember.”
    She faced him on the street. “I’ll always remember you.”
    He pushed a lock of hair back from her brows. “Text me when you finish up tomorrow. I won’t say good luck because you don’t need it. The bakery is going to be so damn happy to have you there, Margie. Good night.”
    His footsteps echoed in the quiet street as he walked off.
    “Good night, Evan.”
    She let herself inside and found her bed, promising herself it was okay to give her whole heart to Evan while she was in Paris.
    It had to be. She didn’t know how to hold herself back.

Chapter 3
    Boulangerie Ma Belle had a red storefront with sparkling glass windows showcasing the bakery’s amazing breads. Margie paused in front and peered through the glass. She saw the curved style of croissants, made mostly in France. From the research she’d done on French baking, she knew this signaled the use of faux fats instead of butter, which was used in the traditionally round croissant shape. To her amazement, there were laws—actual laws—that governed the shape of specific types of bread. And some baguette designs even had their own patents.
    When she opened the door, a discreet bell rang. A beautiful blond woman wearing a fabulous white dress looked up from behind the counter. “Bonjour.”
    “Bonjour,” she replied, doing her best to deliver the words in an appealing French accent. “I’m Margie Lancaster, Andre’s new baking apprentice.”
    The woman came around the counter. “Oh, the American! How lovely. We have been waiting for your arrival. You came in yesterday, oui?”
    “Oui,” she replied. “I was grateful Andre gave me a little time to settle in.”
    She threw her long hair over her shoulder. “Not enough time if you ask me. That man is a slave driver. I know. I’m married to him.”
    “Oh,” she cried out. “How lovely.”
    “I’m Belle,” the woman said, kissing her on both cheeks Parisian style.
    “He named the store after you,” she said. “That’s very romantic.”
    Belle gave a mischievous smile. “If I didn’t work here, I would never see him. This way we are not parted too long. Bakers’ hours are horrible, no? You will see. Andre told me you are opening your own bakery in the United States.”
    “Yes,” she said and then added, “Oui,” like an idiot.
    “What is the name of your shop?” Belle asked.
    “Hot Cross Buns.”
    Belle laughed. “You have a wicked sense of humor. I like it. We are going to be friends.” She walked over to the door behind the counter and opened it a crack. “Cherie, your new apprentice is here.”
    Margie took a moment to enjoy the sight of all the bread around her. There was an entire wall of the most gorgeous