Page 154 of Flirting with Darkness

He’d tied a towel around his waist, but that was it. Even that stopped far short of his knees, giving me a generous eyeful of thick, muscled thighs as he stepped into the room.

And above the towel…

If there had been any doubt whether that bulk under his clothes was all muscle, it was gone now.

But I hadn’t predicted the black and grey ink etched into his skin. An organic pattern covered the expanse of his chest—leaping and intertwined shapes. Were they creatures? I couldn’t tell from here. They ran down his arms, dancing with the intriguing shadows that flexed as he rubbed the towel through his hair. The ink faded out to ghostly grey, then nothingness by the time it reached his wrists.

Amongst the tattoos, dark hair flecked his chest and the packed muscle of his belly, trailing down beneath his towel. A path my gaze couldn’t help following, though it snagged on something else that also cut through the tattoos, silvery pale in the candlelight.

I swallowed the tea and sucked in a deep breath, face suddenly hot.

“Sorry to hog the bath.” It was Faolán’s voice, but when he pulled the towel away from his head—the man in the doorway wasnotthe man I’d married yesterday afternoon.

He’d shaved, revealing a square jaw and strong chin lined with candlelight. His hair had been brushed and also trimmed to his shoulders, leaving the damp lengths to frame his face.

“I needed that.” The sigh he gave was one of such pure relief, I believed him. “Been on the road far too long.” The edge of an apologetic smile teased his mouth, which I could finally see properly. Not too full, not too thin, with an angular cupid’s bow.

It was a mouth that promised something hard and unyielding. Something that made me press my thighs together.

Because, damn it, he was far more attractive than he had any right to be and moreneatthan I’d ever expected. And yet…

Even trimmed and clean, a rugged edge clung to his solid lines and sheer size.

Still beastly, but a gorgeous beast.

“Oh, food, thank the gods.” He came closer, and although his steps were silent, I felt each one tremble through the floor. His scent reached me first: bay and mint, woody and fresh.

The candles flared brighter, their golden light playing with the planes and shadows of his body, making the inked shapes seem to move.

It was only now I realised they were wolves. Stylised versions, sketched in rough lines, but those dark eyes, the large ears, the sharp teeth—definitely wolves. Playing and fighting, twisting together, leaping and howling.

And the silvery lines? Scars. The ink overlayed them, following their angles, as though the tattoos had been designed to workwiththe slashes.

Who had done that to him? My jaw tightened. And why? Something about the repeated shapes, the similarity, and the way they covered him so thoroughly told me he’d taken a bad,badbeating.

“Rose? Are you all right?”

I blinked up at him, opened and closed my mouth. I’d been staring, wordlessly.

“Uh. Yes. I… I’ve never seen tattoos like that. They’re beautiful.”

“Mm.” He nodded acknowledgement, surveying the plate of food. Another platter appeared, this one twice the size.

I gestured towards them. “When Granny said the house would take care of us, she meant it literally.”

“Looks like it.” Eyebrows rising, he nodded more enthusiastically before popping a sausage roll in his mouth, whole. “Stars above.” His eyes widened as he chewed. “These are fucking incredible.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Mm-hmm.” He grabbed one of the little pies, which were filled with venison, juniper, rosemary, and IthoughtI’d caught a hint of sweet-sharp rhubarb.

My lips quirked at the size of it in his huge hands.

With the pie halfway to his mouth, he jerked his chin towards the panelled door. “I’ve drawn you a bath, too.”

I blinked, eyebrows shooting up before I hurried to the bathroom. “Thank you.”

I’d inadvertently married the most oddly attractive man I’d ever met, who could use his hands to kill a werewolf or run me a bath. That was… unexpected.

---