A Hunter Under The Mistletoe. Addison FoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
was simply the messenger, but the woman held up a hand to forestall her.
“Mr. Stavros insists. Spa treatments aren’t simply a frivolity. You’re a woman who works with your body on a regular basis. It’s important to keep it finely tuned.”
“I can pay for it myself.”
Madelina cocked her head, those eyes sharp. Once again, the fleeting image of a dragon floated through Evangeline’s mind before vanishing. “But why do so when your employer presents you with such generosity?”
“It’s frivolous.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, either.” Handing over a fresh glass of water, Madelina pointed to the door. “Drink this, then join me in the salon. Berta will direct you once you leave the room.”
Evangeline watched her go, the conversation unsettling on several levels. She wanted the treatments—had thought that very thing as she lay there, soft and warm and boneless from an awesome massage.
So why complain when it was offered as a job perk?
An image of Rafael Stavros filled her mind’s eye, in clear answer to the question.
Tall and dark, the man was a walking, talking version of sin in the flesh. Mercurial gray eyes. Thick, dark hair. Chiseled features and a body that made her fingers itch. She’d never been a woman to ignore her body’s needs, but she’d also never understood the extremes people went to for attraction.
Rafe Stavros tossed that thought right out his penthouse window. The man was lethally sexy and equally formidable in his business. His father had established a successful casino whose business he and his brother had only shot into the stratosphere. From high-end restaurants to Broadway shows to a casino floor that boasted just enough winners to keep the tables packed, the Archangel had become a must-see destination on the Strip.
And she was part of it.
Draining the rest of her water, Evangeline hopped off the table and stretched like a cat. She hadn’t felt this loose-limbed in oh…about forever.
“So what are you complaining about?”
As she caught sight of herself in the small mirror over the treatment room’s sink, Evangeline had to admit to herself she had no answer.
As the original founder of the Archangel, Michael Stavros had a firm policy. Hire good people and leave them alone to do good work. If you found a gem, you had to respect their genius and leave them alone to do their best work in their own way. Alternatively, if you ended up hiring someone who was lazy, stupid or worse, both—fire their ass on the spot.
Although he and Gabe hadn’t adopted every practice their father employed in his own brand of management, some rules of business were immutable.
Hiring good people was essential.
It was why he’d been so drawn to Evangeline. Her work—and her passion and enthusiasm for that work—had stood out above all else. It had him hiring her on the spot and it had been the thing that kept her on staff even after he discovered her past. If the woman was a Hunter, she was a damn fine actress.
Because in nearly a year, all he’d ever observed was a woman obsessed with the look and feel of his property and very little focus on anything else.
Madelina interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Stavros. The things you requested are ready.”
“And Evangeline?”
“She’ll be out momentarily.” Madelina hesitated for the briefest moment—at odds with her normally tart tongue—and Rafe’s gaze sharpened on her.
“Yes?”
“She enjoyed the day. Told me as much.”
That hesitation remained and Rafe couldn’t resist probing further. “But?”
“I believe she’s a bit perturbed at the generous monthly addition to her compensation plan.”
“Is she now?”
Madelina only nodded, and he couldn’t hide his broad smile, already anticipating the battle that was sure to ensue.
“Madelina!” Evangeline’s voice echoed from the other side of the door to the interior of the spa moments before the thick oak swung inward. “What is this?”
Evangeline blew through the door, a goddess in full pique, her hands full of dresses. Her hair was pulled back from her face, sticking up at odd angles from the massage. Her face glowed a high pink—heightened by her anger but still rosy from her facial—and the sexiest toes he’d ever seen peeped out from beneath a long spa robe.
“You look well.”
Evangeline shook the dresses at him as Madelina slipped out through the still-swinging door. “Where are my clothes?”
“Laundry, I presume.”
“They were nice clothes. And clean.”
“Now they’ll be cleaner.”
Evangeline tossed the handful of silks onto a nearby couch. “I am perfectly capable of dressing myself. Taking care of myself. Sleeping when I want, working when I want. I do damn fine living my life.”
“What’s wrong with someone showing you some kindness?” Rafe asked.
“Kindness is a day off. Not spa treatments and expensive dresses.” Evangeline bent down and snagged one of the dresses. The move tugged the bodice of her robe ever so slightly and Rafe got a glimpse of tanned skin, tapering into the slope of one breast.
Catching his eye, she snapped the robe closed as she tossed the garment his way. “This is a thousand-dollar dress.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze flicking briefly to the fabric before taking in the thick, schlumpy fit of the robe. Even covered in acres of terry cloth, she was a vision. “I don’t see a tag.”
“I’ve seen it in the boutique window for a month. I know how much it costs.”
“So you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s yours.”
She shook the dress at him. “What is wrong with you?”
“We have a strict dress code at Flame. Since we’ve got reservations this evening I figured you’d like something to wear.”
“I have clothes. Good ones that are more than acceptable for Flame. And—” She broke off, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not going with you to the casino’s steak house.”
“We’ve got business to discuss.”
“Then we can go to your office.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You’re mad.”
“And you’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met.” Rafe moved in, the lingering wash of lavender and jasmine from her treatments assaulting his senses. “Most women like spa days. And new clothes. And nice dinners.”
“As a date, maybe. Not with their employer.”
“I can’t show you gratitude for the work you’ve done?”
“A thank-you is fine.”
Rafe took another step closer, those scents fading as something distinctly Evangeline rose up through the lingering effects of a day of pampering. Something earthy and natural, like the air after a rain or the bright scent of rebirth after he regenerated.
With gentle movements, as if a sudden motion would startle her, he pressed his lips to her ear. “Well, then. Thank you.”
Rafe