Solace. Relief. You.He wanted to grin but controlled his expression. “Not sure yet.”
“You look like you have everything.”
“Seems that way on paper.”
She rolled her eyes. “Poor little rich boy.”
“How do you know I’m rich?”
Her hand smoothed over his chest, stopping his heart. Would he ever be tired of her touch? He feared the answer was no. She tugged on his tie. “This. This costs more than some people’s paychecks. That’s how I know.”
“You got me.”
“What do you do?”
“Boring stuff.”
“I bet it’s something important.”
“Not really. I take care of things.”
“Things? Or people?”
Nicholas looked down at her. “Both, I suppose.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Sounds important.”
“I hope it is. What do you do?”
“I’m an artist.”
“Ah.” He took a sip of his scotch, barely tasting it. “What’s your medium?”
“Skin.”
“Hmm.” Since she’d touched him, he dared to lift his fingers and trail them over the vine at her shoulder. “Did you design this?”
“I did.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Boston.”
“Nice.”
He continued tracing the vine, feeling her shiver. “For a tattoo artist, you don’t have many visible tattoos.”
“There are few people I’ve been able to trust to execute the designs I want on me.”
“I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo.”
“Have you? I can’t see you with one.” She cut her gaze away from him, telling him she was lying.
“Maybe a fairy,” he ventured. “Or a mermaid?”
Her lips twitched, and she took a sip of the fruity drink she’d ordered. “If they’re naked, I guess.”
“Look how smart you are. Such a professional.”He followed the vine to the back of her shoulder. He knew exactly where it ended, curling over the delicate bump of her shoulder blade. “I welcome any other suggestions you have.”
