Page 61 of The Image of You

I took off my jacket, hanging it over the back of my chair. I released my hair from the tight knot I’d had it in and let it fall around my ears. Slowly, I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my ink-covered forearms. I grinned down at her as I flexed my muscles. “So do I.”

She eyed my hair and arms, her eyebrows high and her eyes glowing. One shaky finger trailed along a long black line of ink. “My husband had a tattoo. I found it rather sexy.”

“Really,” I drawled with a grin.

She winked at me, her expression saucy. I could imagine her in her youth, mischievous and bright with life.

“It was in a more, ah, private place. Only he and I ever saw it.”

I winked back. “Scandalous.”

“It was. And I saw it—a lot.” She indicated the table I was anxious to visit. “Go get ’em.”

Smoothly, I moved through the crowd, accepting some handshakes and explaining to a few people that, no, I didn’t do private photo sessions for portraits. I managed to keep my temper until I got to the table and saw Ally. She was still stuck between her mother and Bradley, and they were talking. I wasn’t sure if it was at her or to her, but she was now uncomfortable, her hands twisting together on the table. I straightened my shoulders and stepped forward.

“Ally.”

Three sets of eyes met my gaze. Two displeased, and one startled, soft, and so blue I wanted to drown in them.

“Adam,” she breathed out.

Bradley stood, his hand on her shoulder. It took all my inner strength not to knock it off and tell him to keep his fucking hands off my girl.

Ally reached up, brushing away his grip.

“Can we help you?” Sarah demanded, her cold eyes widening as they took in my longer hair and the artwork now displayed on my arms. Disapproval colored her tone.

“Mother, this is Adam Kincaid. He contributed the piece that fetched such a large donation. He’s very well-known.”

“Ah. Yes. We met earlier. It was an interesting piece.”

I tilted my head in acknowledgment of her “praise.”

“I had an exceptional muse.”

Ally’s cheeks colored and her eyes glowed.

“I was wondering if I might borrow Ally for a moment.”

“Her name is Alexandra,” Bradley interrupted, frowning.

“And how do you know my daughter, Mr. Kincaid?”

“I was fortunate enough to meet her after a small work-related mishap. She took very good care of me.” I gave Ally a huge grin before turning back to her mother. “When I heard about the benefit for the children’s ward, I remembered her kindness and wanted to give back. You must be so proud of your daughter, Mrs. Givens. Such a caring, gifted nurse and a truly remarkable woman.”

She cleared her throat, her disdain for my opinion evident. “Yes, of course.”

Ronald appeared, a drink in hand, and I reintroduced myself, shaking his hand firmly and meeting his eyes. I wasn’t going to back down in front of these people. Ally needed to know I was there for her.

“I’ve seen your work,” he acknowledged grudgingly. “You’re very good, I hear. Several of the men at the bar were discussing your last shoot in the Amazon.”

“I hold my own.”

He eyed my hair and arms distastefully. “Dangerous work. Almost reckless.”

His tone said the word he didn’t speak—unacceptable.

“I’m careful.” I glanced in Ally’s direction. “I get into far more trouble close to home. Thank God for nurses with a healing touch. It’ll come in handy if I have an accident with my bike.”