Read Online Kissing Under the Mistletoe by Marina Adair - Free Book Online Page B

worse.
    Hoping that maybe he would go away if she ignored him, she checked the oil level and the coolant. He onlymoved closer, proving just how shitty her luck had been lately. Satisfied that the battery was the problem, Regan, resisting the urge to wipe her greasy hands down the front of his pristine shirt and certain she wouldn’t dissolve into frustrated tears, spoke into the engine. “Go away.”
    Gabe leaned around her shoulder and peered under the hood, his body brushing up against her back and doing all kinds of yummy things to her front.
    “I believe this is yours.” A black portfolio case came into view.
    Without looking at him she grabbed her case. “Thank you. Now, go away.”
    When he didn’t move, she slammed the hood shut, his hands jerking back just in time. She smiled—serenely. She wasn’t going to let him ruin this already ruined day.
    She turned around. Gabe didn’t budge, except to block her in further, leaving her wedged between two hard bodies with no place to go.
    She frowned.
    He smiled. It was a sweet smile of victory that made her stomach squeeze and her palms go moist. Then he looked over her with those deep caramel eyes and something altogether different went moist.
    “You’re cold.”
    She followed his line of sight to her blouse, which was white and wet and about as practical as tissue paper in the rain. When she met his eyes, he smiled...again. Crossing her arms, she held her tongue, swallowing a select word or three that desperately needed saying, and mentally replayed Holly’s letter.
    Slowly.
    Centered, she finally spoke. “Mary over at the Barrel Buyer sends her best, by the way. She deemed me unqualified to file papers in under ten minutes.” Gabe was so close that she took a step back and bumped into the hood of her car. She forced herself to lean casually against the grille, going for composed. A least she hoped she pulled off composed.
    “Mary is a Baudouin, Vixen.” He reached out and rested a palm against the hood on either side of her hips, caging her in. Ever so slowly he leaned forward, his arms brushing against the side of her breasts, his lips coming so close to hers that she thought for one crazy, exciting, idiotic second he was going to kiss her.
    When he spoke, his breath tickled her mouth. “Which means she is genetically predisposed to screw with my life. Me discouraging her to hire you would have guaranteed you the job. That ten minutes, that was all on you.”
    His heart was truly two sizes too small.

    Gabe looked down at the woman who moments ago had been all piss and vinegar and watched as her shoulders sank and her eyes went flat, making him feel like the biggest sack of shit north of the equator.
    Regan was a fighter. But right now she looked a little lost and a lot scared. And no matter how many times he told himself that none of this was his fault, he couldn’t get past how devastated she’d been over losing that cottage. Then he remembered why he’d come here.
    The game had changed and he was supposed to do whatever it took to keep her here. In St. Helena.
    “Look, about the cottage. Sunday is just two days away—”
    “I am aware of that. Now, if you could please tell me how much the monthly charge is for the cottage, so I can prorate what I owe you.” A blatant “screw you” cut through her polite polish.
    “Don’t worry about it.” He’d never rented out the property, never had a need to.
    Not to mention, there was no way in hell Regan could afford two weeks there. Cottage or not, it was one of the oldest historical buildings in the Valley, surrounded by one of the finest vineyards in California.
    “It’s only fair. You lost income waiting for me to arrive and then I spent the past two weeks there. I don’t want you telling people that I ruined an account for you
and
left you high and dry.”
    So people had been talking. Probably Frankie.
    In the spirit of fairness, Gabe shrugged and threw out a random, but
fair
, number. He