Breaking Vee by Kat Madrid

Author:Kat Madrid [Madrid, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

Jared

I never intend to jump on her like a horny teenager but it seems I turn into a raving animal whenever she’s around.

Her indignant reaction and genuine anger have convinced me she’s not in cohorts with my mother and her insidious husband. That gives me tremendous relief.

But her fuzzy story about mistaking me for a male escort has holes and gaps I still have to piece together to see the entire picture.

My cheek is still smarting. It amazes me she can throw such a mean right hook. Strangely, it turns me the hell on.

But her sucker punch has left me dazed for several seconds and she’s made her escape by the time I got my bearings back.

I go out looking for her at the main gallery but she did another Cinderella act on me.

“Fuck!” I mutter under my breath.

I’m totally pissed at myself for not getting her name while we were in the utility room. I allowed my lust take over my senses, something that has never happened before with other women.

I don’t know what it is about her but I know it’s more than mind-blowing sex. She has piqued my interest. I have this irrepressible compulsion to get closer to her.

I must find her, apologize for my bastardly behavior, which was largely brought about by a sudden wave of jealousy at the idea of her sleeping with another random guy other than me. A totally alien concept I have to analyze for another day.

I should explain to her about Kellan and my mother and then turn on the full charm to get into her good graces.

“Ah, there you are, Mr. Braxton! I’ve been looking for you...I thought you’ve left,” Leroy, the gallery agent says as he materializes at my side.

“Is there a problem?” I ask not even bothering to look at the guy, my eyes on the lookout for my gypsy girl. I have written a check for the entire collection earlier, so if he will push another artist down my throat, he will fail.

“I just need you to sign some paperwork but I’m sure we can have it sent over to your office tomorrow.”

“Yes, please do that,” I inattentively tell him.

“You’re looking for someone?”

I throw him a glance. “I’m looking for a female attendee.”

“If you can give me a name, I can probably help you with that,” the agent tells me.

“I don’t have it. I briefly met her a few weeks ago. At the Alder. She’s wearing a white gypsy-like outfit.”

Leroy’s eyes widen.

He knows my gypsy’s identity.

“I don’t know the lady,” he answers. But I know he’s lying. He’s covering up for her for one reason or another.

I took a step closer, close enough to get into Leroy’s face.

“I want her name,” I demand, glaring at him.

The agent swallows nervously. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

I smile humorlessly.

“You can give me her name now and I’ll make sure to mention your and this gallery’s name to my set of friends, who are also avid art collectors. However, if you continue this charade of not knowing her, I might not be as amenable,” I state.

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