Cassandre Dayne Fire 1 Red Fire Surrender

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.I have noidea why people go a little crazy in spring and do completely ridiculous things to their bodies.The emergency room was full last night for seven hours.God, just nutty. I thought you had the night off, Jax breathed. I know and I did, but we have a couple of people out sick and I don t have a choice so I thinkI should drive too.Jax sighed. No problem lady.You work too hard. He kissed the top of her head and openedher car door. I honestly don t know what to expect with this so perhaps you driving isn t a badidea. I think I can handle myself, sexy man. Amanda teased, pressing her finger over his mouth. I don t think it s you I m worried about. Jax shook his head and nipped her finger.No, hesuddenly had a very bad feeling.***Audax was nestled into the lower boughs of Shockoe Slip, one of the most fashionable areasin the city of Richmond, just off the cobblestoned vestibule that encased several thrivingspecialty stores and neighborhood bars.The entire area had been refurbished years before toresemble the aged days of glory in the city around the turn of the century and several festivalswere held in and around the area during the warm months.The weathered mid-rise brownstoneswere well adorned with luminescent lighting and the unique businesses encasing the area werefrequented by many walks of life.Teeming with activity all hours of the day and into the weehours of the morning, the long several block one-way street was perused by natives and touristsalike.It was a favorite spot for Jax to grab a beer and reflect on what he had lost and what was mostimportant to him.The only trouble lately had been he was no longer sure of what was important.As the scattered sounds of various strains of music from eclectic nightclubs drifted across thenight sky, Jax breathed in the scents of the city and sighed.It had been a long few months andperhaps when this case was over he would finally take the vacation he had promised himself.Parking in a pre-paid side lot, he and Amanda walked hand-in-hand toward the entrance thatwas shrouded in a warm glow from the twinkling moonlight and the festive ambiance of the opendoors.Inviting all who would enjoy the showing, laughter filled the warm night.Strategicallypositioned across the sidewalk were numerous caf� tables filled with people dressed in illustriousattire, champagne flowing, as the lilting sounds of string jazz music wafted across the courtyard. Whoa, I don t think I m dressed appropriately, Amanda whispered as they stood holdinghands by the cascading fountain that was the centerpiece for the open area and the entirecourtyard sparkled with festive lights, shimmering in the breeze. You look beautiful. Jax s eyes darted back and forth across the sea of people and while hewasn t certain what to expect, the group before him was a bit of a surprise.Ranging in age fromearly twenties to at least mid sixties, by the diverse look of the group, there didn t seem to be anysignificant commonality.For some reason he d anticipated leather and chains.Instead, thebeautiful people appeared as socialites coming to a sought after event unlike any others he hadheard about in the city.He had no idea that erotic art had such a following.The realization wasfascinating and it meant that the artist held credence. Come on, let s go inside. What s our cover? We re just enjoying an evening together and appreciating art. Do you know anything about the artist? Amanda glanced into the joyous crowd, her eyeswide. Just a little. Even with his limited experience with art appreciation, Jax could easily tell theplayers from the revelers as they milled in and out of the gallery.Some were admiring and otherswere simply drinking.The moment they walked in through the double doors, their eyes were drawn to the sensuoussurroundings of soft hued lighting and crimson velvet textured walls.The scent of exotic flowersand the subtle hint of vanilla filtered throughout the large modern gallery rimmed with brushedsteel and mahogany.Black and white photographs in various sizes were hung on nearly everyvertical surface while others were placed on freestanding burnished metal easels.Waiters milledthrough the subdued crowd holding trays filled with glistening crystal champagne glassesoffering the bubbly freely.All eyes were peeled to the art itself.From where they stood, Jax wasimmediately impressed by the photography.The photos bold and daring, every piece was filledwith a haunting angst. Amazing. Jax eyed the series of waiters milling through the crowd.Champagne, salmon and caviar was being served and everyone was partaking in the festivities. You re right, impressive showing.Who is this artist? Amanda took the glass being offeredas she eased away from his arms, pressing her way toward a bank of photographs. Aleksandr Vasiliev.He s from Russian decent, trained at Oxford and until about a year agolived in the United Kingdom.In just glancing at his website, he is well known throughout Europeas a premier photographer. The brochure had given him the web address for the artist and whilehis accomplishments were well established, the man himself remained shrouded in mystery.From the little he had been able to glean about Aleksandr, he had only recently moved toRichmond and established his studio close to the river.He was nothing more than an enigma.Needing more information, Jax finally contacted a friend in Europe who he d worked with on acase several years before and found out some additional information.Unfortunately it was littlemore than what would be covered in a glossy.Moving toward the closest picture, a slight gasp escaped her lips [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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