Any Man I Want Read Free

things.”
    Fredrika chuckled. “Duly noted. Liar . Not charming.”
    â€œWell, he did say one true thing,” I admitted.
    â€œWhat might that be?”
    â€œI did discard him. I most certainly the hell did. Apparently, not a moment too soon.”
    â€œHe is alleging that this is how you’ve closed deals for BellaRich Designs and stayed on top in the modeling field.”
    â€œOh no, he didn’t!”
    â€œYeah, he did. Said he has lists of other fashion execs and photographers that you’ve slept with. It’s a slow news day, Kat. This is everywhere. They are calling you the Cajun Coquette.”
    I closed my eyes. Over ten years in the industry maintaining a flawless reputation in the media, playing nice with people who didn’t understand the meaning of the word, smiling while half naked in rain, beach, snow, and shine and now this.... I was considered flirty but fun, sexy but not skanky, pretty but professional. People took me seriously. I worked hard to be more than a pretty face. I scrapped, clawed, and kicked my way into design. My designs were smart, sultry, and sought after. I carried my weight at BellaRich Designs and I’d be damned if a pompous ass with hurt feelings and no bed game was going to ruin all of that. “Thanks, Fredrika. I need to call Beau.” My older brother Beau was a man who was often underestimated because he was so easy on the eyes. But of the three Montgomery offspring (me, middle brother Roman, and Beau), Beau was the one who not only knew how to play dirty, but relished the opportunity. He was sharp as a tack and knew how to think like both an angel and a devil.
    Fredrika exhaled. “You’re calling Beau? Good—he’ll fight fire with fire. Call me when you know your next move.”
    â€œDrika?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThanks for believing in me.”
    â€œKatrina. You’re no angel, but you don’t play around when it comes to business. No worries. If you need me, I’m here.”
    â€œThanks again.” I hung up, ignored the knocking on the villa door, and dialed another number. It was answered on the first ring.
    â€œBaby girl, how many times have I told you that your extraordinarily bad taste in men would bite you in the ass?” Beau’s slightly accented voice poured out. Though we all had some Creole influence, Beau tended to lean more heavily on his than Roman and I did. “I swear, Kat, all the lovely male influences in your life and you have to hook up with the slimiest cochon out there. Not smart, sis.”
    I rolled my eyes at my older brother’s rant. “Dating Kevin is not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done . . . but close. How bad is it?”
    â€œWell, chère , I won’t be playing that video at the next family reunion.”
    Scowling into the phone, I answered, “How is that possible? We did it twice. Both times badly. In the dark for less than fifteen minutes.”
    â€œI really didn’t need details.”
    â€œI’m just saying. It was over in an instant. How in the world did that make a juicy sex tape?”
    â€œAre you sure?” Beau queried.
    â€œQuite. Why?”
    â€œThis tape might be doctored. The one I glanced at—and believe me, ‘tite chou , I never want to see anything like that again—has you in sunlight outside, near a beach in a hammock.”
    That sounded familiar and wrong all at the same time. “The only time I’ve been in a hammock here was for the shoot. I was topless, modeling the swim shorts. There was a male model; we did some flirting for the cameras but nothing that could be a hot sex tape. Not even close.”
    â€œThis jerk must have meshed different footage together or something. Okay, I know what we’re dealing with now. You need to lay low while I figure out how to go nuclear on Mr. Delancey.”
    All of a sudden, I remembered my team. “What about the