Well Bred by Adriana Anders, A. ANDERS EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Adriana Anders
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.3 MB
- Price: Free
Kit
I know the second he walks in that the man is trouble.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my almost forty years on this
planet it’s to give trouble a wide berth. Especially when it’s six foot five,
heavily tattooed, and muscle bound.
“Can I help you?” I ask from where I’m standing behind the bar. “We’re
not open yet.”
He pulls off mirrored sunglasses and looks around, eyes probably still
adjusting to the restaurant’s dark interior. When he finally focuses on me, it
takes effort to maintain my relaxed stance.
This guy, whoever he is, has the hard, confident, utterly aloof presence
of a predator. I can’t imagine for the life of me what’s brought him to my
fancy little gastro-diner on the outskirts of town.
“Looking for Kitty Esteban.” He watches me, clearly aware that he’s
found her. “Your brother sent me.”
Immediately, my tension ratchets up. “My brother?”
“Frank. Asked me to swing by and check in on you.”
“Check in on me?” Great. Just wonderful. This is what I get for
updating my brother on my life. Which, granted, has been more than a little
complicated recently.
Even from prison, Franco’s got to micromanage. As if
I haven’t done just fine out here without him. Hell, I’m the one running a
restaurant—albeit with great difficulty just now. He’s the one who’s been
behind bars for the past decade and a half. “Tell him I’m good. Thanks.” I
go back to the produce order.
Ignoring me entirely, the man hooks his glasses into the neck of his Tshirt and moves smoothly between tables toward the bar. “Saw a sign
outside. You need a cook?”
With a sigh, I shut the computer and look up. “Yeah. You don’t happen
to be a chef in need of work, do you?” I mime looking at a watch.
“Available like, today?”
He stops right across from me, setting one heavily tattooed hand on the
shiny wood counter and, for a few seconds, everything else recedes and all I
see is him. He’s massive. Bigger than my original impression suggested,
with his arms and chest and flat stomach perfectly displayed in the kind of
plain white T-shirt probably bought in packs of five. The kind of T-shirt that
looks like trash on some people and on others—like this guy—is more
appealing than a tux.
Short dark hair and a thick, sinewy neck frame the kind of face I don’t
usually bother examining too closely. Do Not Engage, this face says loud
and clear. There’s too much challenge in his eyes. His jaw’s too stubborn.
This is the face of a pain in the ass.
And I’ve had enough of those to last me a lifetime.
“Sure,” he says, laying both thick forearms on the bar, putting him on a
level with me. Or closer,
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