Page 19 of Chased

She was nothing like Madison had expected. Way younger, for one thing, especially for someone who was in charge of keeping the whole domestic side of this place running. Possibly no older than Madison herself, who was twenty-three.

And on top of that, she was gorgeous. Like, supermodel gorgeous—tall with honey-blond hair that curled down over her shoulders and great big blue eyes, perfect bone structure, and a slim figure that also somehow curved in all the right places.

But she didn’t seem too concerned with how she looked. She was barely wearing any makeup, and her jeans and long-sleeved blue t-shirt were cute but not fancy or expensive, although her ankle boots were to die for.

She gave Madison a welcoming smile and hurried forward, holding out her hand. “Hi! I’m Breanna, and obviously you’re Madison. I’m so glad you made it! Boomer said you came in with the Hounds.” She smiled at Sanchez, who lifted a hand briefly in greeting. “Did your car break down?”

Madison felt her clenched stomach muscles relaxing. Breanna didn’t seem at all angry, and there was something very appealing and approachable about her, despite her supermodel looks. “Yes, it did. Last night.” She shook Breanna’s hand. “Electrical problems, which fried my charger, so my phone died. That’s why I couldn’t get in touch.”

She took a breath and mentally crossed her fingers. “I’m so sorry. You must have thought I was totally flaky, not showing up and not even calling.”

Breanna waved that off like it wasn’t even important. “I’m just glad you’re all right.” Then she looked closer at what Madison was wearing, frowned, and looked at Sanchez. “Is that your shirt?”

Oops. This was going to be harder to explain.

Breanna folded her arms and fixed her gaze on Sanchez. “What did you do?”

Chapter 9

Sanchez said to Madison, “See? We get blamed for everything.” Madison tried to stifle her giggle, but she didn’t quite succeed.

Breanna echoed Boomer: “It’s because usually they’ve actually done it.” But she didn’t sound angry. More like she was just giving Sanchez a hard time.

Even so, he didn’t deserve it. Madison said, “This time it’s not true. Sanchez saved my life in Samantha’s market.” She winked at him.

Breanna said, “By giving you his clothes? Do I dare ask what happened to yours?” She held up her hand. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know.”

“I do,” said the blond man sitting on the desk across the room. “Who was naked in Samantha’s market, and why? And are there pictures?”

Thank the gods there weren’t. Madison said, “I was viciously attacked by a bottle of lavender oil. I’m allergic.” She shoved up the sleeves of Sanchez’s shirt and held out her arms, which were still covered in big red hives.

Breanna’s mouth opened in an ‘O’. “Whoa. That looks nasty. Do you need anything for it?”

Madison was slightly jolted. She came in late to a new job, looking like a disaster and wearing somebody else’s clothes, and Breanna’s first thoughts were to ask her if she was okay, and if she needed anything. She really wasn’t in House Fontaine anymore.

Madison shook her head. “Thank you, that’s really nice. But I have cortisone cream. And Sanchez ripped—um.” Better leave that part out. “He gave me his shirt. Because mine was all lavendered.” She bit her lip and finished, “It’s been kind of a hard morning.”

That was an understatement. Now that she’d made it here and the adrenalin was wearing off, she suddenly felt like she wanted to sit down and cry.

“A hard morning after a hard night,” Sanchez chimed in unexpectedly. “She had to spend the night in her car, on the side of the road. And then hike about six and a half miles into town this morning. Before she even got to the lavender part.”

“Are you kidding?” Breanna turned to Madison. “Good lord, girl, you must be dead on your feet. Let’s get you up to your cabin and let you get settled in. You can have a shower. And a nap.”

Madison almost wanted to cry again at her kindness—but in her world, taking her up on that offer would make her a whiner or a slacker. Renard women put their heads in the air and kept going, even after a beating.

“But you’re paying me to work,” she protested. “I can’t bail on my first day.” She looked at Breanna’s side of the office. “And no offense, but it looks like you could use the help.”

Breanna rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you have no idea. I could probably use three of you. We just moved into these offices, and as you can see, it’s pretty much of a cluster fuck.”

Did she just say ‘cluster fuck’? In the office? And no one had batted an eye.

Breanna went on, “But one more day won’t make a difference. I’ll just give you a quick look around and then I’ll take you up to the cabin.”

The dark-haired woman was hanging up the phone, looking triumphant. “Hah. I told those fuckers that pallet was still in the warehouse. They’re sending it out this afternoon.” She started doing a little happy dance in her chair.

The blond guy said, “You rock, babe. As always.”

Breanna gestured to the dark-haired woman and said, “This is Jaeda Monroe, who in fact does rock. She’s here temporarily, doing project management for our construction. And this is her mate, Remy McCall.”