Purrfect Protector Read Free Page A

to notice he’d come out of the dressing room—and by room, Kale meant a small area marked off with standing Japanese blinds.
    “Ah, good. You’re ready. I don’t want makeup for you on this one, so you’ll be fine with just the minimum you’re still wearing from the suit set.”
    Kale let the designer lead him away until he stood in the middle of the set Philippe had finished arranging. Unlike the previous white scenery, where he knew the computer guys would imagine some fantastical background, this one was all of black and gray. It also held a heavy velvet-and-silk curtain and a black-red chaise with the old-fashioned filigree carving on the wood. It was a dark mix of vintage and sexy.
    “Now, you’ve seen the last few campaigns and they’re a bit samey,” Philippe drawled with a dismissive wave of his hand.
    The enthusiastic designer leaned in close to him. Kale couldn’t say why, but he shot a quick glance over at Aleksi to see the man looking elsewhere. Something told him the shifter was fully aware of what was going on all around the room, though, and he pulled away so he wasn’t as close to Philippe. Aleksi was supposed to be his lover and he didn’t want to disrespect the shifter, even if it was only a cover story.
    “My higher-ups have given me the nod to run with an idea that’s a little out there,” Philippe continued.
    Kale glanced back and dropped his easygoing tone. “ How out there?” In this outfit, that could mean anything. Philippe was aware of Kale’s limits, knew he wouldn’t do full frontal nudity and that Kale also wouldn’t grope women for the sake of ‘art’.
    It had been a problem at the beginning of his career, but Kale had made the promise to himself when he’d decided to be a model that he needed to draw some lines and not cross them—professionally and personally.
    Philippe smirked. “Don’t worry. I remember your aversion to the fairer sex.”
    “I don’t have an aversion to women. I just don’t want to make out with them,” Kale corrected sardonically.
    “I don’t blame you, cher . But no, that is not what I want you to do. I want you stretched out and draped in fabric, doing your best smoldering looks.”
    “Okay, but how is that different from a hundred other campaigns? No offense.”
    “Because you’ll be doing it with Liam.” Almost the instant Philippe said the name, another male model appeared beside the Frenchman, wearing the exact same thing as Kale, including heavy black eye makeup with his blond hair slicked back as if he’d recently gotten out of the shower.
    “Hi,” Liam greeted with a cocky smile. He sidled up to Kale before wrapping an arm tightly around his waist.
    “Hello,” he replied with a forced smile, extracting himself from the man’s hold. Kale shot Philippe a dark look. The man knew better than not to warn him about a grabber. The designer had the decency to appear chided…for all of a minute. Then the man fell back into his over-the-top designer persona and sashayed off to talk to the photographer about the lighting.
    Some days the modeling gig is just a big headache.
    Liam moved over to the chaise and Kale followed, but instead of sprawling over the thing, Kale went to the larger side and perched on the arm. He thought this would be fine to start with until he gauged how far Philippe intended to go with this idea. Liam evidently had other plans, as the man pulled him down onto the seat and painfully gripped the top of his arm to stop him from moving away.
    “Listen to me. You may be some fuck-toy star at the moment, but I’m the next big thing and you are not going to ruin this for me by being a fucking prude.”
    The viciously hissed words surprised Kale. On the few male-only shoots he’d done—usually high-end menswear—the models had been arrogant and self-obsessed but few of them had been openly hostile.
    “Well as the star , as you put it, I’ll give you a little advice. Don’t be such a prick. You’re not