Page 37 of Cast in Shadow
“I have no idea.”
He laughed softly and called her out. “Everyone who is serious about getting ink has something in mind. Something they want.”
He wasn’t wrong. She had given it a lot of thought. She wanted something feminine. Something delicate yet strong that flowed with the natural curves of her body. Something that was unique and meaningful to her. But a specific image had remained elusive. Her creativity didn’t extend to artistic things, only mathematical things, like patterns and alternate pathways.
“What would you suggest?”
He sat back and eyed her critically, like an artist eyeing a blank canvas.
“With your size and coloring, I’d go with fine line black and gray,” he said finally.
“Subject matter?”
“That depends on what’s important to you. It should mean something. Express who you are.”
Her eyes dipped to the intricate design on his chest. Celtic and Nordic symbols, woven seamlessly into battle scenes. Bold strokes, expert shading, powerful imagery. It fit him perfectly.
“Did you design yours?” she asked, her finger reaching out to touch.
“Yes.” He caught her hand, stopping her before she made contact. A jolt of energy raced up her arm and she snatched it back.
“Would you design one for me?”
“No.” The answer was immediate.
“Why not?”
He didn’t answer. His eyes flashed with heat before they shuttered. Then, he rose from the counter abruptly and took his dishes to the sink.
“Your little disappearing act has put us behind schedule,” he said, keeping his back to her. “We should go. The sooner, the better.”
“Still on about that, are you?”
“I was hired to do a job.”
Aggie ignored the pang of disappointment that speared through her at the reminder. “What’s wrong with sticking around for another day or two?”
He shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
“Why not? We’re safe here. We’ve got plenty of food and amenities. The view is spectacular. What’s the hurry? Are you that anxious to be rid of me, Zeke?”
Chapter Seventeen
Zeke
Just the opposite, he thought.
The more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. And imagining her body splayed out before him, a perfect blank canvas upon which to permanently engrave his mark? It was pushing him to the limits of his self-discipline.
He knew he should grab her and go. But what he wanted to do and what he should do were completely at odds with one another. She was a job. A package. Nothing more.
Except she was.
So caught up was he in his mental battle that he neglected to realize she’d come up behind him. The touch of her delicate hand on his forearm was like a brand, shooting through him with a white-hot fire.
He tensed and held himself in check. Discipline.
“Would it be so bad, spending another day here with me?” she asked softly.
