Under the Millionaire's Mistletoe

by Maureen Child

  Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and Anna turned to look. She hated the fact that her heartbeat jumped in her chest at first sight of Sam Hale striding from the garage toward her. Faded blue jeans hugged his legs, and he wore a dark green sweater and black boots.

  She hadn’t expected to have to deal with Sam while working here. Didn’t he have things to do? Cars to build? Universes to run?

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here, remember?”

  “Yes,” she said on an irritated sigh, “I meant…”

  “I know what you meant.” He glanced into the trunk of her car. “You need all of this to paint a picture?”

  “It’s a faux finish, not just a picture,” she told him, then added, “and yes, I do.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted and Anna hated to admit even to herself what kind of impact even that tiny half smile of his had on her.

  “Okay, then,” he said, reaching into the trunk to pick up most of her equipment. “Follow me.”

  She didn’t have much choice, Anna thought, trotting behind him in an attempt to keep up with his long-legged stride. He led her toward the garage and headed directly for an open doorway. She followed him inside and glanced down the long open space at the cars parked in separate bays. There were two of them and they were really just shells. No tires, no engine, no window glass.

  “You couldn’t afford one with an engine?”

  He grinned at her and the solid slam of that smile hit her hard enough to momentarily dissolve her balance.

  “Those are great cars,” he pointed out after he set her supplies down onto a neatly organized workbench.

  “If you say so.”

  “I thought artists had great imaginations,” he taunted.

  “I use it for painting, not for driving.”

  “When I get that Bentley and the Cobra up and running, you’ll change your tune.”

  Confused, she looked again at the skeletal cars. She hadn’t known that he was a man to actually get his hands dirty. All she’d ever heard of Sam Hale was that he designed luxury cars that his company built for the bored rich. “You work on them yourself?”

  “I do. Got my start that way,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. “I was a mechanic,” he told her, shaking his head in memory. “A damn good one. Worked night and day when my folks died to make sure Garret could go to college and have a good shot at life.”

  “What about your shot?” she asked, surprising herself as much as him.

  He shrugged. “I did the college thing, but it was cars that drew me in. I built my reputation slowly, growing my business and then I built a custom car for a Hollywood producer. He liked what I did so much that he recommended me to his friends. And before I knew it, I was running Hale Custom Autos. But I still like to work on cars myself, get my hands on a flatlined engine and make it purr again. Guess you don’t understand that, huh?”

  “Actually, I do,” she mused and found herself looking at him in a whole new light. She’d assumed he was simply another wealthy man, locked in his office, running his own little world from the top of a pedestal. It seemed there was more to Sam Hale than she had thought. “Trompe l’oeil painters can use computer programs to design and detail out every move. But I’d rather get my own hands on a blank wall and make it something amazing.”

  “So,” he said with that half smile she found so dangerously compelling, “you’re telling me we have something in common after all?”

  She looked at him, standing there all tall and dark and gorgeous. Seriously, he had enough charisma and magnetic attraction about him for two healthy men. She knew that for her own well-being, what she should do was say screw the job and the money and get back into her car. But she wasn’t going to do that and she knew it.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “I guess I am.”

  For a brief moment, their eyes locked and the air between them practically sizzled. There was something here, she thought as her heart pounded and her mouth went dry. Something that was as exciting as it was dangerous. And she had zero business feeling this way about him. There was no way anything was going to happen between them.

  He didn’t trust her. He thought she was after his money. Well, to be honest, she was. At least what he was going to pay her for this job. And as far as Anna was concerned, Sam Hale was an overbearing, arrogant boob-except he apparently had unexpected depths.

  With those thoughts ringing loudly in her head, she took a breath and shifted the subject to safer ground. “So, what exactly did you have in mind for your mural?”

  “Business it is, then,” he said, still studying her. “For now.”

  He walked to the small office area, separated from the garage by a half wall. There was a desk, two chairs, a single filing cabinet and a half-dead fern in a blue pot inside. The walls were white and blank. There was a skylight overhead, providing plenty of natural light, but there were no windows, which struck Anna as odd.

  “I don’t have a lot of windows in here,” he said as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “When I’m working on the cars, I like to keep the area as clean as possible. Don’t want dust and dirt blowing in, but it gets claustrophobic in here after awhile.”

  “I can see why,” she said, already studying the pristine white wall, letting her imagination kick in. “Can’t you put in windows that don’t open?”

  He shook his head. “Dust can still get in with a loose seal or whatever. The skylights are double-sealed. Until I get down to serious work I can open the garage bay doors for air. But once the detail work starts, I’ll be keeping the place shut up tight.”

  “Okay, do you want anything in particular?”

  Another slow smile curved his mouth. “I can think of a couple of things.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said, taking a step back from him just for good measure. “But I was talking about the mural.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll leave that to you. I just want to be able to look at something that makes me feel less closed in. Can you do it?”

  “I can.” She walked to her supplies and pulled out pencils, a yardstick and blue painter’s tape.

  “Do you need anything from me?”

  “Just for you to go away,” she said, knowing she’d never be able to concentrate if he was in the room watching her.

  “You got it.” He started out of the office. “I’ll be working in the garage. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “You’re working here?”

  He smiled again and Anna felt that rush of something hot and wicked sweep through her one more time. She hadn’t counted on having him underfoot all day. She’d expected him to leave her alone. The claustrophobic feel of the massive garage instantly notched up a level or two.

  “I can run my company from here with a laptop and a phone,” he was saying. “So until you’re finished, I’ll be right here. Every minute.”

  “Great.”

  He grinned and she knew he was enjoying her discomfort. Deliberately, she turned her back on him and went to work. If she could keep busy enough, she told herself firmly, she’d forget he was near.

  Sadly, even Anna didn’t believe that.

  She sang when she worked.

  Sam groaned and banged his head on the uplifted hood when he straightened abruptly. Rubbing the aching spot on his skull, he shot a glare toward the woman taking up far too many of his thoughts. He’d thought having her here would be a good idea. He could watch her. Find out who she really was.

  Sam had thought about calling his brother to let him know that Anna actually did have a price. But he decided against it. He knew Garret was over her, but Sam didn’t want hard feelings between him and his brother. If Garret brought up her name again, Sam was simply going to point out to his younger brother that Anna had said flat-out that even though she hated him personally, she was going to take his money.

  Wouldn’t that prove once and for all that the gorgeous Anna was as mercenary as she was beautiful?<
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  Wouldn’t that prove to his brother that Sam had been right all along?

  Only problem?

  Sam wanted her.

  Bad.

  When his cell phone rang, he lunged for it, eager for a distraction. “Hale.”

  “You sound like you want to hit somebody.”

  Sam scowled at his brother’s cheerful tone. It was Garret’s fault that Sam was, at the moment, tied into knots. “You volunteering?”

  “Hell, no,” Garret said, laughing. “Just wanted to tell you I’m leaving town for a while.”

  “What?” Irritated, Sam wondered when the hell his younger brother was going to grow up. “You can’t leave town. You’ve got a job.”

  “Oh, that didn’t work out,” Garret dismissed it easily.

  “Damn it, Garret-”

  “I didn’t call for a lecture,” his brother interrupted. “I’m heading to Aspen for a few days. Just wanted you to know, is all.”

  “Great,” he muttered. “Thanks.”

  Garret sighed, clearly as irritated as Sam felt. “I don’t want to fight with you, Sam. I just need some time, okay? That job you got me at the advertising firm was making me nuts.”

  Sam thought about the favor he’d called in with a friend in San Jose and realized he’d have to make another call to his old friend. To apologize for his brother. “Garret, you said you wanted that job.”

  “It just wasn’t me.”

  “What is?” Sam asked, unable to understand his younger brother’s inability to find something he had a passion for. So far, all the younger Hale had been really good at was women and snowboarding. “What’re you going to do for a living, Garret?”

  His brother laughed shortly. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”

  That was what worried him, Sam told himself silently.

  “Look, I’ll be back for Christmas. Promise.”

  “All right,” Sam said, lifting his gaze toward the office where Anna’s singing had quieted. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  Anna stepped out of the office. When he hung up, she asked, “Problem?”

  “No,” he said flatly. He wasn’t going to discuss his brother with the very woman he’d forced Garret to stop dating. “How’s it coming?”

  She watched him for a second or two, then said, “Great. Want a look?”

  He walked to the office, brushed past her and stared at the wall where blue painter’s tape was applied in a series of arches and straight lines. Sam couldn’t see where she was going with this, but she seemed happy enough with it. “That’s good?”

  “It is,” she said, coming up beside him. “I’m almost ready to start laying down some background color along with the outside detail lines.”

  “What is it?” he asked, watching her face rather than trying to make sense of the taped wall.

  She looked up at him. “A surprise.”

  She was too close and smelled too good. Her dark red hair pulled back in a ponytail at the base of her neck, her bright green eyes glittered with excitement. Her blue denim jeans and oversize blue work shirt over a paint-stained black T-shirt somehow looked…perfect.

  Sam had never seen a more beautiful woman. He was in deep trouble here and he knew it.

  He just didn’t care.

  Before he could think better of it, he reached out, took her arm and dragged her close.

  “Sam…” Her voice was a whisper.

  “Don’t talk, Anna,” he told her and slowly bent his head to hers. He had to see if everything he’d felt when he first kissed her was still there.

  She lifted one hand to his chest and he could have sworn he felt the heat of her palm slide down inside him, easing away the chill. “This isn’t a good idea,” she told him.

  “You’re still talking,” he said.

  “Right,” she agreed, lifting her face to his. “Shutting up now.”

  Then he took her mouth with his, felt the hard punch of desire and knew that Anna Cameron was going to be way more trouble than he’d first believed.

  Six

  The next few days settled into a routine. Anna worked in the office, Sam worked on his cars and they met in the middle for lunch provided by his housekeeper. By silent agreement, neither of them referred to the blisteringly hot kiss they’d shared in his office.

  But the memory was there. Haunting them. Keeping each of them so tightly wound that just being close to each other sent up sparks.

  Anna didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t wanted or expected to like Sam, but he was getting to her. Slipping beneath her radar, worming his way into her thoughts. Heaven knew he had already breached her body’s defenses. Anytime he came near, her heartbeat sped up and every square inch of her jolted into electric life.

  But it wasn’t just the desire, the passion; it was more. Over the last few days, they’d talked and even laughed. He’d told her about some of his more “eccentric” customers and she’d shared a few of the truly hideous murals some of her clients had asked for. She actually liked working in the office, listening to the sound of power tools as he refurbished one of his cars.

  At the bottom of it, though, she had to keep in mind that he didn’t trust her. He thought she’d been willing to seduce his brother to save her father’s company and what did that say about him? But he’d also given her free rein to paint whatever she wanted in his office. That was trust of a sort, wasn’t it?

  Yet, she remembered all the things Garret had told her the night he broke things off with her. Along with the whole out-to-get-my-money speech, Sam had also told Garret that he considered artists to be flaky and emotionally unstable. So what was she supposed to make of that?

  “None of this makes sense,” she told herself, glad that the day was almost over. Sam had gone up to the main house half an hour ago and she’d heard Mrs. Soren leave shortly after. As soon as Anna finished this one section of the mural, she’d be leaving, too. Christmas was getting closer and she still had shopping to do. Besides, one of her own traditions was to wander through Crystal Bay at night to enjoy all of the Christmas decorations. She hadn’t had a chance to do that yet and she figured tonight was as good a time as any.

  She reached up and with her fingertips, quickly brushed the line of paint she’d just laid down, softening the edge and blending the paint into the other background colors so that it became a pale wash of blue and gray that would, eventually, be the sky in her mural. Stepping back, she nodded to herself, and wiped her fingers on the rag stuffed into her pocket. Then she stretched her aching shoulder muscles and swiveled her neck, trying to ease the tension there as well.

  Satisfied she’d done all she could, she quickly cleaned her brushes and closed up her paints. The sudden roar of a powerful engine splintered the quiet and Anna stepped outside to follow the sound.

  A cold wind slapped at her as she spotted Sam, astride a huge, gleaming black motorcycle. He grinned at her approach and revved the engine again, making the bike sound like a hungry lion.

  He wore a battered, brown leather jacket and balanced two helmets and another leather jacket across his lap. He looked way too good, Anna thought, feeling that rush of heat swamp her again. There might as well have been a Danger sign flashing over his head. But she still couldn’t seem to stop herself from walking toward him, like a moth headed directly for the tantalizing flame.

  She shouted over the rumble of the engine, “What’s going on?”

  “We need a break,” he said, his voice deep and loud enough to carry. “Put this on.”

  He held out the leather jacket and Anna knew she should say no and head back inside. Sunset was already staining the sky and she should be headed home. Back, she thought, to her empty apartment, a hot shower and a cold glass of wine. Then she looked into his blue eyes and knew that she wasn’t going anywhere but with him.

  She slipped the jacket on and zipped it up. Then she accepted the helmet he offered her and tugged it on as well. He grinned at her and her stomach did a s
low bump and roll. He pulled on his helmet, flipped the visor down and indicated that she do the same. Then he shouted, “Hop on!”

  Knowing it was most definitely a mistake, Anna did just that. She climbed aboard the motorcycle, her thighs spread wide, aligning along his. She leaned into him and he turned his head to say, “Wrap your arms around me and hold on, Anna.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he called back.

  He’d already surprised her, she thought, feeling the rumble of the engine rippling throughout her body. She’d never been on a motorcycle before and she had a feeling that this trip, wherever he was taking her, was going to be memorable. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and inhaled sharply as he roared down the length of the driveway and out onto the road.

  Sam drove along the coast road for miles, and Anna watched as night claimed the sky. Trees lined one side of the wildly twisted road and the ocean, dazzled by moonlight, lay on the other.

  She’d never experienced such a thrilling sense of freedom before. Fear rode just below the surface of her excitement, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she focused solely on the incredible sense of being as one with Sam and the machine carrying them both through the darkness.

  He doubled back after a long while and she realized they were headed back to Crystal Bay. Disappointment rose up in her as she realized she wasn’t ready for the ride to end. For the magic to be finished. Lifting one hand from the handlebars, Sam pointed into the distance and she shifted her gaze to follow the motion. Her breath caught as she saw the town of Crystal Bay, sitting on a crescent-shaped harbor, spreading back through the trees. In the surrounding darkness, the town’s Christmas lights shone from a distance like jewels strewn across the ground. She smiled and felt a stirring of something magical rise up around her.

  Soon, they were roaring down Main Street and Anna wondered if everyone they passed was speculating. Sam’s motorcycle was well known and she was guessing that her long, red hair hanging out from beneath her helmet would be enough for most people to identify her. The question was, did she care?