Page 3 of Devilish Ink

But then I realized where I’d seen him before.

He was the man outside Rian’s apartment.

Hehadbeen stalking me.

RY

The door closed behind my stalker with a click like a gun being cocked.

I wanted to scream but my voice box jammed into my throat. I wanted to run but my feet were frozen in place. For a long moment we just stood there on opposite sides of the room, predator and prey.

I took him in, trying to assess whether I should run or fight back.

Gods, he was tall, at least six foot two. The collar of his heavy-duty workman’s jacket was turned up against the wind. His boots were covered in mud. His hands, hanging by his sides, were thick and scarred. His shoulders filled out his jacket and his thighs filled out his jeans.

He was a man used to hard work. He was a man who wasn’t afraid to get a little dirty. He was a man who other men called when something was too hard.

He was not a man I could fight off. Unless I had a gun. I’d never hated Ireland’sno-gunslaw more than now.

Run!

Except I had nowhere to run to. Upstairs was a dead end.Unless I locked myself in one of the bedrooms and called for help.

But I’d never been up there, it being Mason and Rachel’s private residences. I wasn’t even sure if the rooms were lockable. Or if any of the rooms had phones in them.

My Irish burner phone was still somewhere in my bag out the back.

The back door. When Aurnia gave me the tour yesterday, she showed me the back door leading to the alleyway. To freedom.

But that door was undoubtedly locked. And my damn keys were also in my bag. If I could even figure out which key was the right key before he grabbed me.

He seemed oblivious to the droplets of rain rolling off his messy hair. Oblivious to the silent terror building up to the bursting point inside me.

I couldn’t just stand here waiting for him to make his move. I had to risk something…

Before I could move he spoke: “What’s a guy gotta do to get a tattoo around here?”

I was not expecting that.

This was obviously some sort of ploy to get me to relax before he pounced.

“You want a tattoo?” I said, my voice betraying my disbelief.

“I do,” he said as he stepped in farther, glanced around the tattoo studio with obvious interest, as if he were a real customer and not here to snatch me up like a nightmare come to life. “This is a tattoo parlour, right?”

“Right…” I said. I glanced over to the door behind him. All I had to do was get between him and the door and I could make my run for it. I just had to play along…for now.

“So?” he said expectantly, walking into my line of sight of the door. Dammit. He was good. He knew I was going to make a run for it and he was deliberately blocking the door.

“So what?” I asked, my voice coming out cutting as I edgedaside, glancing again at the door past his broad shoulders. So close yet so far away.

“Will you give me a tattoo?”

My gaze snapped back to his face and I felt struck again at how kind his eyes looked. What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be feelinganyempathy with the thug hired to kidnap me.

“You want a tattoo…from me?”

His eyes swept over me from head to toe, but for some reason it didn’t come off as predatory. It felt…appreciative. “Yes, from you, Miss…”

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