Her Mistletoe Husband Read Online Free Page A

tried to reassure herself. Mr. D’Amour is a lawyer, trained to disguise his emonons, to look supremely confident even when he’s quaking with fear. She’d been out of the profession a long time, and was rusty at the game. Unfortunately he was at the top of his.
    For all her loathing of this man and his plans to take away her inn, she had to give him credit. He was good. He just stood there, watching her, making her doubt herself without saying a word.
    She’d never met anyone who could affect her that way, and she had a sinking feeling he wasn’t cloaking any fear with false calm. He was simply very sure of himself. That realization tore her confidence. No! She couldn’t accept that. For if it were true, then she didn’t own...
    She fought back the thought, too horrible to allow full-blown into her mind. Digging deep within herself, she managed to straighten her face and square her shoulders, giving him back the same, self-assured air that he displayed so flawlessly. Two could play at this game. Elissa Crosby did not cower or admit defeat!
    She managed a polite expression, a miracle, considering her internal turmoil. “Guests of my Inn may use the fax for free, Mr. D’Amour.” She shifted to go, then glanced over her shoulder, her smile calculated. “I’ll run you a tab.”
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    Elissa’s bravado was wearing thin. It had been a long day, especially considering how little sleep she’d had the night before, crouched in the D’Amour mansion closet. She hadn’t realized the thought of going down to her bedroom would engender as much emotional chaos as spending the night in a frigid, cramped enclosure in fear for her life. But that’s how she felt as she headed toward the basement stairs.
    Since her staff had immediately recognized the D‘Amour name, she’d told her housekeeper, her cook and her part-time assistant that Mr. D’Amour was going to be a neighbor. She had “been delighted” to offer him lodging while he was refurbishing his mansion. She had no intention of stirring up fears among her employees about the possibility of their losing their jobs. She wouldn’t give that idea a moment of her time. It simply would not happen.
    With her new, part-time employee manning the registration desk, Elissa trudged down the stairs. To her great discomfort, she would have to pass by Mr. Stealerof-Dreams. When she opened the door to the basement, she noticed a light on, making it clear that he was still awake.
    She decided she’d better knock before barging around the comer, though it grated on her nerves that she must make any concessions for this man. She rapped against the partially open door.
    â€œYes?” came a deep voice.
    â€œI’d like to go to my room. Are you decent?”
    â€œNo, I’m buck naked.”
    Her cheeks warmed at the risqué vision that passed through her mind. The unexpected reaction irritated her, and she wasn’t sure why. Stiff-backed she marched into the room. “Sarcasm is a poor excuse for humor, Mr. D’Amour.” Though she’d vowed not to look at him, movement caught her attention and she turned, only to stumble to a halt as her unwelcome guest wrapped himself in a towel. “Oh...” she cried, feeling as though she’d been hit in the stomach.
    â€œThanks for that bulletin about sarcasm, Miss Crosby.” He tucked the comer of his towel at his side to secure it “But I rarely lie about being naked.” He bent down to his open suitcase and plucked up what looked to be a shaving kit. Glancing narrowly at her, he headed for the bathroom that opened out into the basement parlor. His long legs ate up the distance, flexing calf and thigh muscles drawing her gaze. When he reached the door, he turned to lounge a shoulder against the jamb. “Did you say something?” An eyebrow rose in question.
    She could do nothing but shake her head. Waning emotions