Chapter 73

Finchley’s reluctance was obvious.

“Let me see the cover,” I repeated and waggled my fingers. “Otherwise, we’re walking out of here and contacting Quinn’s lawyers.”

“Fine.” He took a sheet of paper from the portfolio and handed it to me.

I stared at it, my jaw tense. “Are you fucking serious?” The colors were vibrant, but the images… Two figures, a male and female, were front and center, and yeah, I’d kind of expected that, but Jesus. The man was tall, muscular, shirtless, and blond. The woman, who was supposed to represent my character, was fucking short. Her tits looked ready to burst out of her bodice, and she clung to the man, looking up at him as if his presence was all that kept her from falling apart.

“I thought I was going to be shown another option.” Quinn’s mouth was in a grim line. “I already turned down this cover.” He tossed his napkin onto the table. “Let’s go, Mark.”

“You have no way to return to your hotel!”