AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He overtakes me in two large steps, cutting off my path to the door. “Tattoos are permanent, Laila.”
“I’m aware. Unlike some people, I have no problem with long-term commitments.”
Nina tugs at the collar of his shirt and blows slobbery raspberries against his cheek, but he just scowls at me. “I’m not trying to start a fight.”
“You’re so good at it, you don’t even have to try.”
I try to move around him, but he sidesteps, staying in front of me. “Do you know what kind of tattoo you want?”
I tap my chin, pretending to think. “Maybe a butterfly holding a sign that says, ‘Take Me Here,’ right above my ass.”
For a moment, I think his carefully controlled mask of patience is going to crack. But then he breathes out through his nostrils. “How about ‘Property of Arsen Adamov?’”
I wrinkle my nose. “Nah! What about ‘Open For Business’?”
His arm twitches, and now, I’m surehe’s going to break. His cheekbones are so sharp that I could use them to carve marble.
Instead, he sweeps to the side, giving me passage to the car where Gedeon is waiting in the driver’s seat. “Well, then… I won’t keep you.”
And for reasons I’ll never be able to untangle, I’m disappointed.
Would I feel better if he’d dragged me inside and barred the door? I might not be getting“Property of Arsen Adamov”tattooed on my lower back, but that damned man is forever imprinted on my heart.
“I might need a therapist, Gedeon,” I sigh as I drop into the passenger seat. “I’m a basket case.”
He just snorts. “I could’ve told you that a long time ago.”
We slip into silence as he drives me across town and pulls to a stop outside of a brick building. The exterior is in rough shape, but the inside is clean and modern. The doors are painted a glossy black and the table tops are slabs of white marble.
Gedeon finds a leather chair in the waiting room while I’m led into a private room to wait for my tattoo artist.
Wolfgang Ramsey isn’t easily missed. He’s a huge man with forearms as thick as my midsection. Every ridge and swell of his overly-muscled body is covered in ink. He gives me a cursory glance and then does a pretty obvious double take. “Hello there.”
A jolt of nerves shoots through me. “You must be Wolfgang.”
“And you’re Laila Barnes.” He flashes his pearly whites and sits down, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “We didn’t have a consultation. Trust me, I’d remember you. If you’re still mullingthings over, I can make some suggestions that I think will look amazing on you.”
I try to put a little distance between us, but he moves with me. “Oh, that’s okay. Actually?—”
“Boob tattoos are all the rage right now,” he bulldozes over me. “A nice intricate little something on your chest. Maybe the right side.” His eyes veer down to my breasts as though he’s simply fulfilling his professional duties by ogling.
“Er, I don’t think so.”
“Left side, then. From where I’m sitting, there’s more to work with there.”
What the hell?I honestly can’t tell if he’s pulling my leg or if he’s actually a huge creep.
Because I refuse to leave this tattoo parlor without a tattoo and prove Arsen right, I grit my teeth and carry on. “I want ‘Marie’ written on my wrist. Something small and delicate.”
His tongue flickers out over his bottom lip. “Is Marie your girlfriend?”
“Marie is my mother’s name,” I say icily. “She died a few weeks ago.”
The Dead Mom bomb has been dropped. I expect him to fall all over himself apologizing, but he just chuckles. “Looking at you, Marie must have been a babe. Like mother, like daughter, I assume.”
And there goes any chance he had to redeem himself.
Also, any chance I would let this world-class creep be associated with a permanent fixture on my body.
