Free One Month with the Magnate by Michelle Celmer

had hurt him. That after all this time he was still hurting. If he wasn’t why would he be so hell-bent on hurting her back?
    Maybe she should give him what he wanted, allow him his vengeance if that was what it would take to reconcile the past. Maybe she owed it to him—and to herself. Maybe then she could stop feeling so guilty.
    After last night she could only assume he planned to use sex to get his revenge. If she slept with him, would he feel vindicated? And was she prepared to compromise her principles by having sex with a man who clearly hated her? Or did the fact that she still loved him make it okay?
    Before she could consider the consequences of her actions, she stuck her hand out.
    â€œHere,” she said. “Maybe you should check it. Just in case.”
    He looked at her hand, then lifted his eyes to her face. There was a hint of amusement in their smoky depths. “I’m sure you can manage on your own.”
    Huh?
    He dried his hands, then walked out of the kitchen.
    She followed him. “What do you want from me, Emilio?”
    He stopped just outside his office door and turned to her. “Want?”
    He knew exactly what she meant. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
    His stormy gaze leveled on her and suddenly she felt naked. How did he manage to do that with just a look? How did he make her feel so stripped bare?
    He took a step toward her and her heart went crazy in her chest. She tried to be brave, to stand her ground, but as he moved closer, she found herself taking one step back, then another, until she hit the wall. Maybe offering herself up as the sacrificial lamb hadn’t been such a hot idea, after all. Maybe she should have worked up to this just a little slower instead of jumping right into the deep end of the pool. But it was too late now.
    In the past he had always been so sweet and tender, so patient with her. Now he wore a look that said he was about to eat her alive. It both terrified and thrilled her, because despite the years that had passed, deep down she still felt like the same naive, inexperienced girl. Way out of her league, yet eager to learn. And in all these years the gap seemed to widen exponentially.
    Emilio braced a hand on one side of her head, leaning in, the faint whisper of his scent filling her senses—familiar, but different somehow. If she were braver she would have touched him. She wanted to. Instead she stood frozen, waiting for him to make the first move, wondering how far he would take this, and if she would let him. If she should.
    Emilio dipped his head and nuzzled her cheek, his breath warm against her skin, then his lips brushed the column of her throat and Isabelle’s knees went weak.Thank goodness she had the wall to hold her steady. One kiss and she was toast. And it wasn’t even a real kiss.
    His other hand settled on the curve of her waist, the heat of his palm scorching her skin through the fabric of her uniform. She wanted to reach up and tunnel her fingers through the softness of his hair, slide her arms around his neck, pull him down and press her mouth to his. The anticipation of his lips touching hers had her trembling from the inside out.
    He nipped the lobe of her ear, slid his hand upward and as his thumb grazed the underside of her breast she had to fight not to moan. Her nipples tingled and hardened. Breath quickened. She wanted to take his hand and guide it over her breast, but she kept her own hands fisted at her sides, afraid that any move she made might be the wrong one.
    His lips brushed the side of her neck, her chin. This was so wrong, but she couldn’t pull away. Couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want him to stop.
    His lips brushed her cheek, the corner of her mouth, then finally her lips. So sweet and tender, and when his tongue skimmed hers she went limp with desire. In that instant she stopped caring that he was using