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 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 and the struggling models. He got there not a second too late. Kale tried to sit up and the Liam blocked his escape and grabbed for Kale’s throat again.
Quick as the cat he was, he shot out his hand and captured Liam’s wrist. The model was too stupid to know when he was outmatched and he tried to claw at Kale’s beautiful skin instead. All of Aleksi’s patience evaporated. He let his eyes shift and a deep growl rumbled through his chest. No one could mistake the threat of a superior predator.
He heard a gasp and glanced away from Liam to see that Kale was okay. His protectee stared up at him, mouth agape, gaze fixed on Aleksi’s eyes.
From the size of Liam’s pupils, he was too drugged up to realize what was happening and still fought Aleksi’s grip. Aleksi glanced at his charge and dragged Liam off Kale and then the seat. He resisted the urge to throw Liam. Instead, he simply shoved the male back a few steps. “Leave.”
The one growled word seemed to set the model off again and Liam tensed as if to attack Aleksi. However, Philippe got in between them first. Aleksi was a little disappointed. His cat wanted to play and beating the drugged man would be a good game for them, as a house cat with a mouse, batting Liam about and chasing him when he tried to run away.
“You heard him. Leave my studio.
Now
. You nearly marked up his face. You’ll be lucky to work in this industry again.”
As Philippe spoke, Aleksi flicked his gaze past the designer and saw the photographer talking quietly into a phone.
“He’s
nothing
!” Liam shouted. “I should be the star, the golden boy. Me!”
Aleksi kept himself between Liam and Kale, tracking the irate man’s erratic gestures and movement. There wasn’t anywhere Liam could hide a weapon in that getup but Aleksi had learned addicts could be unpredictable.
The door to the studio opened and two relatively large security men came in, then they dragged Liam out, kicking and screaming. Once the threat was clear of the studio and Aleksi could no longer hear the man’s crazed yelling, he turned to face Kale, inspecting him.
His charge still looked uninjured, apart from the red marks on his neck that stood out against his lightly golden skin. Another soft growl escaped him. Liam never should have touched Kale.
“Are you okay?” Aleksi asked.
Kale nodded slowly, his eyes wide and body stiff as he rose from the chaise. Aleksi realized the problem, stopped growling and forced his eyes to change back from cat to human.
“Sorry,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. Aleksi coughed, covering the final growl of discontent from his cat. After this assignment, he would really need to go to his safe house away from the city and run for a few days as his animal.
Kale rubbed the marks on his throat and shook his head, shooting another look toward the door. “None of this was your fault.”
“I thought I’d scared you.” It happened often around his protectees, but it had never bothered him much before.
Why is Kale different?
Kale tensed then surprised Aleksi by smiling. “Nah…I like cats.”
Aleksi grinned as his cat took notice of the model for a different reason than Kale being nearly naked. Kale was just different enough to be interesting and make him curious. Cats loved things that made them curious.
Chapter Three
Philippe had been full of apologies for the episode with Liam and had begged Kale to do a
couple more shots
. The couple more shots quickly turned into another hour or so on set in that scrap of fabric, sprawled over the chaise in a series of poses that had Aleksi hiding in the shadows of the studio so he didn’t embarrass himself.
Growing so hard he was certain he was testing the tensile strength of his black denim jeans wasn’t exactly in the close-protection-specialist handbook, but watching Kale’s taught body, slightly oiled with strategically placed black and gray body powders to enhance his muscles and the bone structure, was severely challenging his control. He had the distinct feeling that Kale knew it too. The smoldering looks sent his way for a good portion of the shots had to be more than a coincidence.
What made it worse was that those expressions were accompanied with an arched back, as if he was in ecstasy—or a bowed body, experiencing a lover’s touch, or even a hand reaching out for a lost love.
Geez, listen to me.
I’m waxing lyrical about my protectee.
He needed to hit something before he had to hand in his man card. If his brothers could hear him now, they’d have ammunition against him for years.
The designer went wild at those expressions and Aleksi could scent not only Kale’s slight arousal but Philippe’s and the photographer’s as well. His cat was becoming agitated and he finally breathed a deep sighed of relief when Kale called an end to it all.
Kale quickly skipped off to change and they left not long after with Kale promising to call Philippe to organize a double date with them and one of his latest boy toys. For a moment, Kale faltered, but Aleksi stepped in, laughing and promising they’d make an evening of it.
Aleksi steered Kale out of the studio, his arm around the model’s waist, because he felt Philippe’s speculative gaze on them. “Where to now?”
“Uh…home, I guess. Wait—are you staying there too?”
Smiling at the shock in the model’s voice, Aleksi simply nodded and scanned the elevator area. “Yes, I’ll ask Scott to swing by my place later and pick up my bag.”
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Kale frown. “You have a bag already packed?”
“Yes, it’s SOP—standard operating procedure. The only reason I didn’t have the bag ready to go in my office was because I was supposed to be on a break for another few days.”
As they exited the elevator, something tickled Aleksi’s senses. He pulled Kale close to his back and shushed the man when Kale opened his mouth. He couldn’t smell anyone or hear anything other than engines and the normal noise level of a parking structure.
Something was pulling at him, though.
“Stick close to my back. We’re getting to the car as quickly as possible,” Aleksi warned, waiting just long enough to feel Kale nod against him before setting a fast pace. There were more cars than when they’d arrived hours ago and more people walking around too, going to and from their vehicles. Nothing out of the ordinary or anything dangerous stood out, but his cat was on edge, as if they were being watched.
They quickly reached the car and Aleksi made sure Kale stayed with him as he circled it to check for any devices or signs of tampering. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small mirror he always carried then leaned over to stick it on the toe of his boot so he could see the undercarriage. It was good practice in his line of work to do this after every time a vehicle was left unsupervised.