Wasted

Начало книги

The woman was one of the most beautiful creatures that I’d ever seen.

Five feet four inches of soft, curvy perfection poured into a tight suit jacket and a short skirt that let me see just how exquisite her breasts and legs were. Then again, everything about her was exquisite and whispered of money, from the artful tousle of her red curls to the diamond brooch set into her jacket to the shine of her French pedicure.

This was a woman who took care of herself, probably with a strict regimen of diet, exercise, and Air elemental facials. Hell, she might have even been one of Jo-Jo Deveraux’s clients over at the dwarf’s popular beauty salon. I made a mental note to ask Jo-Jo the next time that I saw her—and see if the dwarf had any more gorgeous gals that she was keeping to herself and out of my greedy clutches.

The woman stood in the lobby of my bank, First Trust of Ashland, looking exactly like all the other obscenely wealthy clients that came in through the glass double doors on a daily basis. With its heavy, antique wooden furniture, gold leaf accents, and white marble floor, the bank had been designed to reflect the largesse of its customers. Everything was expensive and understated, just the way that our clients wanted it to be.

Читать дальше →