Purrfect Protector Read Free Page B

good-looking enough to offset that much ugliness.” Kale spat the words back at the other model, putting on his best bitch voice. It was the only way to get through to these types. This was another reason for his three-year plan. He wouldn’t be able to put up with all the falseness and keep up the front for much longer. He wanted to create, to be part of the process that put all the pieces together for campaigns and he wanted to do it for a good cause instead of another in a long line of celebrity fragrances.
    A quick look reassured him that Philippe was still talking with the photographer. It wouldn’t do for his employer to see this. Kale took hold of the model’s wrist and applied pressure to the joint.
    The maneuver was one of the few things he remembered from the self-defense classes his brother used to teach. If a person squeezed enough and in exactly the right place, the tendons in the fingers loosened.
    There.
    Liam’s hand opened and Kale moved out of his reach and let go. “Do not grab me like that again. Or this will be the last job you ever get.”
    Kale wasn’t important enough to influence the industry big shots but Liam didn’t know that. His threat worked. Liam backed down, but Kale recognized the anger in the man’s eyes.
    People like Liam didn’t appreciate being put in their place.
    “Now, boys. I want romance and raw desire. Real emotion. Kale, I know you’re always good. Liam, try not to ruin it.” Philippe’s voice came just before the lights brightened and the wind machine in the corner turned on to move the set’s billowy fabric gently.
    Liam tensed at Philippe’s words and disguised an eye roll by pushing a stray hair back from his face.
    This is going to be a long shoot. Kale sighed.
     
    Aleksi had to stop himself from going over to the set and ripping the other model away from Kale. He clawed his fingers into the wall behind him. Ever since the annoying designer had gotten that glint in his eye, things had started going south. The clean-cut suits were gone and Kale had emerged from behind the blind in only a skimpy little piece of material that left almost nothing to the imagination.
    What made it worse was that Aleksi had scented the man’s discomfort. He’d seen Kale take a step toward him before the damn Frenchman had whisked him and the slut away.
    With his heightened tiger senses, Aleksi could smell the new model too well for his comfort. There were at least four other scents, both male and female, on the man that were far too strong to be anything other than sex. He also detected the acrid stench of drugs—methamphetamine, if he wasn’t mistaken. He’d spent a few years as a consultant for the DEA. Liam was good at covering the signs. Aleksi would give the man that. No puffy eyes or nose and only the tiniest of body tremors that Aleksi noticed only because he was looking for them.
    In the five minutes or so he’d been watching the man, the other more subtle behavioral signs were there—agitation, aggression, deluded sense of power, mood swings and paranoia.
    When the two nearly naked models had been on opposite ends of the chaise he couldn’t decide was tacky or not, he’d watched the process with fascination. From where Aleksi stood, he could view the final shots loading on the monitor beside Philippe. It was surprising how the most subtle and miniscule of changes in expression and body placement changed the final effect of a photograph. Then the photographer directed Kale and Liam to lie on the seat together and things started getting even more uncomfortable.
    “I want you to get closer. You need to look like nothing else exists in the world but each other. That’s great, Kale. Liam, move your hand away from his face. I can’t see Kale properly in the shot. Now you’re blocking him with your shoulder. Liam!”
    Aleksi growled when Liam let his hand linger too long on Kale’s throat, leaving red marks. In four long strides, Aleksi closed the distance between him