Wild For You: Forever Wild #5 Read Online Free PDF Page A

onto a small white hallway with more marble tile. It must have been a bitch to keep all of that so clean. I stepped out of the elevator and saw that there was only one door to my right: Max’s condo. I took in a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and walked toward it. I needed all the courage I could muster to walk in.
    I knocked softly and expected to see some housekeeper answer so my eyes bugged open when the door opened and there was Max standing in a pair of pressed khakis and a navy polo shirt, smiling like he owned the world. Which he basically did.
    “Valerie, glad you made it.”
    He stepped to the side and I walked into the foyer. I knew the place was built in the 1920s and was completely remolded under Max’s watch. I helped with the publicist piece in the Huffington Post to make him seem like a guy who cared about preserving the architecture in Chicago when really he just wanted to blow a few million so he could have his perfect living space.
    It used to be a co-op, but now it was all one living space with 5 ,600 feet of floor space and a spiral staircase that connected the two floors. The walls were covered in the original Mahogany that he had refinished with built-in bookcases and leather furniture placed around a wood burning fireplace that was probably never used. I didn’t know how much time he actually spent in the condo.
    “It wasn’t too hard to find. You did give me the address for the cab driver and I did remember some details from the Huffin gton Post piece.”
    “Ah yes, I do remember that now.” He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the open living room that was illuminated by sky lights. I tensed , feeling his fingers trail down my back, and immediately stepped in front of him as soon as we were in front of the fireplace.
    “So where shall we start? You said you had some talking points you wanted to go over?”
    His smile grew tense. Forced. “Eager to get down to business, I see.” He took a step closer. “I do have those talking points; they’re in my bedroom if you want to wait here while I get them. Then we can discuss them over breakfast in the dining room.”
    “Oh, I’m not hungry. I’m just here to work.” His smile faded to a thin line. “Please, I i nsist. I had my chef prepare it. I wouldn’t want to upset him. It’s all set up. Please just step through the door on the right there and I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
    I sighed. “Okay. I’ll meet you in there. But we’re discussing work.”
    The smile returned to his face. “Of course.”
    I guess it was better than him inviting me into the bedroom with him. I didn’t even look back and went through the open door toward the dining room . There was no reason that a bachelor in his mid-twenties needed a dining room, especially not one with a giant claw-foot table that could seat fifteen people and a baby grand piano in the corner facing a set of French doors that opened onto his balcony overlooking Lake Michigan. Too much decadence for one person, just like the meal that was laid out on the table.
    When he said that his chef prepared breakfast I was thinking maybe some bagels and coffee, not a freaking brunch that belonged in some fancy restaurant. There were heaping trays filled with lobster, eggs, bacon, pork sausage, lemon curd, eggs, and that was just one side of the table. It stretched onto the other side with carafes of coffee and different juices that I wasn’t even sure what they were judging by the dark orange and red colors.
    “Hungry?” Max’s lips were practically at my ear and I jumped almost an entire foot forward, turning around to face him.
    “Are you expecting some other people to join us?”
    He shook his head, dropping a file down at the head of the table. “No, just us. I didn’t know what you’d prefer for breakfast so I asked my chef to make one of each of his specialties.”
    I swallowed hard. “Wow. This is ... a lot. I don’t think I could eat any of