FTF: Portrait of Seduction by Madison Chase
Every wolf has his breaking point.
Tor Kemp is an executioner, not a babysitter. But his visions tell him that Cassidy Sinclair is in serious danger…and his visions are never wrong. She's defenseless against a world she knows nothing about.
Cassidy has dreamed of Tor before. Unfortunately, he always leaves her unsatisfied. But in real life, satisfaction is guaranteed…until he vows to protect her.
Protecting her means keeping his hands to himself. But Tor quickly learns that every wolf has his breaking point.
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—> BUY PORTRAIT OF SEDUCTION BY MADISON CHASE HERE
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Juggling a bucket of orchids and her cell phone, Cassidy struggled to open the service door of the Winston Atlas hotel.
"Ugh…huh. Right. Yep," she told Jennah, her right-hand woman. It was a crazy day. Nonstop arranging and deliveries, and Celeste, her friend and event planner extraordinaire, had called to say that somehow, Cassidy's assistants had managed to include the wrong orchids in the arrangements for tonight's event. "Hang on a sec."
She managed to swing the door wide and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. "Okay, go ahead."
"Which roses did you want in—arrangement?" The line crackled. "We're out of Champagne. Rick's on his way to the warehouse now, but…" Jennah sighed. Cassidy felt like doing the same thing. She turned in a circle, trying to get her bearings. Wall after wall of gray concrete block surrounded her, closed in like catacombs. If she could just get through this maze and switch out these flowers, she could go home for a hot shower.
"Just substitute Vengelaes. It'll work." She hoisted the bucket higher against her chest.
This was one of the few times she'd been through the bowels of this hotel. In the past, she'd arrived out front to camera flashes and paparazzi shouting her name. Nine months ago, she'd had no idea how tiresome a double life could be. But she dutifully showed up to fancy events and made her way through the marble lined halls. She schmoozed and passed out enough business cards that Jennah had needed to reorder. Down here, the bright florescent bulbs didn't have any of the warmth of their crystal chandelier counterparts upstairs.
"We just got another order for a funeral."
"Ask Marcy to do it." Cassidy hated funerals. She still couldn't get the image of Veronica Aragon's beautiful face, frozen with death, out of her mind. It seemed like ages ago that she, Celeste, and James Brody had rallied around their best friend, Viki, and mourned her sister.
Shuddering, she started down the hall and heard the distinct rumble of the service elevator.
"Do you need anything else over there?" Jennah asked, always efficient. Barely out of college, Jennah was young, eager, organized. Cassidy had hired her seven months ago and had no idea how she'd manage if Jennah wasn't there to keep her life running smoothly. Her work life, anyway.
"I think I've got everything. Once I get these orchids switched, I'm heading home to get ready. Are you sure you don't want to come? I've got extra tickets."
"You're the face of Sinclair's, not me. Besides, I've already rented a movie for me and Jason to watch tonight. Give me a call if you need anything else."
"Will do."
Cassidy slipped the slender phone into the back pocket of her jeans and wrapped both arms around the bucket. The heavy door of the elevator rumbled upward, and she quickly stepped on. Her nose was in the bucket, inhaling the delicious fragrance, and she didn't notice the big man in front of her until they'd bumped into each other. Ice-cold water splashed over her corset top and raced down between her breasts, chilling every inch of flesh along the way.
Goose bumps ruptured across her skin as she met the stranger's dark gaze. He was tall. She had to look way up to meet his eyes. Really tall, and really…big.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"Entirely my fault," he said, a trace of accent lacing his words, as they switched positions. His hair was long, dark, verging on wavy. Normally, she liked the cleanly shaven look, but on him there was something perfect about the ruggedness of his wild hair. It made him seem untamable. And though she was sure she'd never met him before, there was something familiar about him. Something that heated her blood and turned her insides to mush.
She gave him her most charming smile, and he returned it with one of his own. The corner of that deliciously kissable mouth turned up in a way that made her think of slow, soul-shattering sex. Like he knew just how to touch, please, and caress a woman. More specifically, her.
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