A Hunter Under The Mistletoe: All Is Bright / Heat of a Helios. Karen Whiddon

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      She knew what she’d seen. No amount of refusal or denial on Rafe’s part was going to change that. What had changed over the past two hours was her need to understand the reasons why. Why there was a burning man in the first place. Why she couldn’t see any evidence on the ground. And why nothing—absolutely nothing—showed on the security cameras.

      Where she’d been initially wary that the Stavros family was hiding something illegal, or worse, committing crimes of their own, her time in close company with Rafe had shifted her direction. Her instincts might be on high alert, but increasingly it seemed there was a mystery afoot that had nothing to do with crime or greed or anything else.

      The problem was, what sort of mystery would surround a man who burned to a crisp and left no detail, residue or ash behind?

      Trying desperately to shake off the endless questions and keep her wits about her, she brought herself back fully to the moment. The two of them walked down the marble expanse that led from the restaurant to the indoor gardens, their steps slow and measured as Rafe asked her questions about the internal installation she’d proposed that morning.

      “You think you can do this installation fully in two days?”

      “Of course. We’ll start early the day after New Year’s and be done by the end of the next. Forty-eight hours, tops.”

      “And when will you sleep in all this?”

      Evangeline stopped at that, turning to him fully. “What is it with you and my work schedule? This benefits you. Your hotel. The experiences your guests will have when they visit. I’d think you’d appreciate a timely schedule and a plan of attack.”

      “Not at the expense of your health. Your well-being.”

      “It’s not like I’m doing anything else, anyway.”

      The words flew out before she could stop them and the congenial dinner companion morphed right there on the spot. The stubborn, hardheaded man who refused to share any of his own secrets almost seemed to surge forward as he leaped to understand hers.

      “What’s that about?”

      A healthy blush crept up her neck, spreading toward her cheeks. “No holiday plans this year. It’s not a problem.”

      “Will you be alone?”

      A sudden chill swept up her bare arms, at direct odds with the embarrassed heat, and Evangeline fought the urge to rub her upper flesh. “It’s no big deal.”

      “Forgive me if I don’t agree.” Rafe moved closer, his large hand closing around her empty one, devoid of her small clutch. “The holidays should be full of family and fun. The chance to make memories.”

       I have plenty of those and none of them are good.

      The words had nearly left her lips—nearly—before she caught herself. “I’m ready to make memories. The moment I watch the guests of the Archangel walk through the interior gardens in wonder and awe.”

      “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

      “Why not? If it makes me happy, makes me satisfied that my work brings pleasure to others, what’s wrong with it?”

      “Nothing. It’s just that the holidays are a time for family. For being together. For celebrating.”

      The banked embarrassment flared to life once more before it shifted—transformed, really—into whip-quick anger. Evangeline tugged her hand from his, taking a step back in determined self-preservation. “Not everyone celebrates. And not everyone has a family. More to the point, not everyone wants one.”

      “You don’t want a family?”

      “Of course I do. At some point.” And she did. It was her fondest wish, something she wrapped close to her heart each night as she lay down to sleep. Her lack of one haunted her as she worked the property, watching couples walk arm in arm or families laugh as they traversed the Archangel.

      She did want a family.

      But the very last thing she wanted was to discuss that here, now, with a rich Greek god who practically owned Vegas.

      “You don’t seem in any hurry to make one.” The words shot back before a small corner of her brain—the one not short-circuited out by the impressive presence of Rafael Stavros—warned her not to talk to her boss that way. But it was too late.

      “I have a family. A large, loud one who is up in my business each and every day, pressing me on that very question.” He leaned forward, a predatory smile painting his lips in a wolfish grin. “Are you sure they haven’t hired you?”

      Lingering anger and loneliness and that weird heat that suffused every single nerve ending each time she got within ten feet of Rafe flared to life once more. She remained still, even as the urge to reach out and brush her fingers over the lush lips that still quirked in that naughty grin had her fisting her hands, one on her clutch and the other by her side. “No.”

      “Then why bring it up?”

      “It’s no secret you’re one of the city’s most eligible bachelor playboys.”

      “A dubious honor at best.”

      “You wear it well. You and your brother.”

      “So you watch out for Gabe’s love life, too?”

      With the evidence her words had been twisted once more, Evangeline stilled.

       Stop talking. Immediately.

      The order echoed over and over in her mind, at direct odds with what wanted to spill from her lips. Questions. Observations. And that continuing wonder at what secret he hid over the man who’d burned to a crisp on Archangel grounds.

      Rafe reached out and dragged the tip of his finger over her cheek. “It’s okay if you do, you know. It’s nice knowing someone is watching out for me. Caring.”

      “I don’t care.”

      His eyebrows shot up before a slow, lazy haze seemed to mist over that enigmatic gray gaze. “Of course you don’t.”

      The pad of his finger drifted from her cheek down to her jaw, painting a line over the delicate bone before moving on down to her neck. His large hand settled at the base of her neck, the tips of his fingers curling around her nape before he drew her close.

      “What are you doing?” The question fell from her lips, a breathless whisper that sounded like it came from someone else. Someone sexier. Someone used to this sort of blatant seduction.

      “Isn’t it obvious?”

      “No.”

      “Then let me show you instead.”

      Rafe’s mouth pressed to hers, an insistent brush of lips that worked a magic all its own. Firm and persistent, in moments he had her mouth open, his tongue delving inside to explore secrets she didn’t even know she possessed.

      But СКАЧАТЬ