Read Online The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) by Kristin Miller - Free Book Online

article was surface level, detailing how millionaires spent their day-to-day lives, Melina had researched Hayden’s father and the businesses in his portfolio. She’d discovered Angus Dean owned some of the most influential businesses in the city. If he didn’t own it, his construction company had built or remodeled the building. Either way, Hayden’s father had his hand in every part of San Francisco’s business structure.
    Hayden had monstrous shoes to fill.
    He put on a front, as if nothing bothered him, but every now and again he’d say something that made Melina think otherwise. In the elevator, he’d started to open up. He’d started to talk about stepping into his father’s role and how it was easier said than done.
    There was depth to him, she realized. And his bachelor pad spoke volumes to that.
    After brushing her hands over the piano—it was glossy and clean, as if he rarely played it—and sifting through his stash of alcohol—scotch and vodka, mostly—Melina studied the paintings on the walls. A few frames down, she lost herself in the unexpected blend of colors and brush strokes. She didn’t know art very well, but she knew the collection was contemporary and very expensive.
    One piece of art in particular caught her eye, stirring something in her chest.
    She stopped, and felt compelled to step closer.
    The painting depicted a gigantic gray wolf, standing in the middle of a dark forest. Its coat was full and fluffy with tinges of black streaking through it. Its snout was thick and formidable, and its lips were curled in anger. The ridge on its back was arched, as though ready to attack, but the gleam in its eye was soft. Pleading , even.
    Everything about the wolf was menacing—one she wouldn’t want to come across in the forest—though Melina got the bizarre feeling that the wolf was only dangerous if it was protecting its own.
    How she knew that, she couldn’t explain. She just did .
    Her stomach tumbled as she reached out and brushed her hand over the wolf’s coat. Ridges of the dried oil on the canvas scraped against her fingers. Disappointment, followed quickly by embarrassment, speared through her when she realized it was a painting and nothing more.
    Ridiculous.
    She felt dizzy. Had she been holding her breath? Instead of moving on to another picture, she sat on the ground and got comfortable, crossing her legs. If she fainted, she’d be closer to the floor, too.
    She stared at the painting, at the wolf. Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs. He seemed to be looking back at her, though that was a stupid thought, wasn’t it? He gave off an air of dominance, firm and unyielding, but still, she ached to feel the softness of his fur.
    It was magnificent.
    “What are you doing on the floor?” a deep voice said from beside her.
    Hayden.
    “Admiring the painting.” Jumping to her feet, Melina dusted off her backside and then pointed at the picture. “Who’s the artist?”
    His dark eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    “I don’t know.” Because she wanted to do a Google search for him and ask if he had any other paintings of the animal for purchase. She probably wouldn’t be able to afford it, though. Unless she gave up her monthly shoe allowance. Shrugging, Melina tried to play it cool. “I like this one. It’s not like the others you have up. He’s…cute and cuddly.”
    “Cute and …cuddly ?”
    She nodded and clamped her mouth shut, though she wanted to say so much more.
    “I think cold and reckless might be more fitting,” he bit out.
    “What are you talking about?” She glanced back at the wolf. He wasn’t cold at all. She could almost feel the warmth radiating from him. And when had the wolf become a “he” rather than an “it?” “That wolf is not cold. He’s majestic and regal. You can tell he’s the leader of the pack.”
    Hayden grumbled beside her, though she couldn’t take her gaze off the painting.
    “I bet he’d lead effortlessly,” she added. “The other