His to Claim (3 page)

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Not too bad, right?”

She nodded, as if afraid to utter any words.

When Charlie finished the outline, he drew away, getting ready for the shading. This
part hurt more.

She gazed down at the design, which was taking shape nicely. Right now it was just
an outline of the bird, but once Charlie filled it in with color, it would come to
life.

“Do you want some water?” Rafe asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

She drew her delicate hand from his arm and he immediately missed the contact. He
grabbed a bottle from the small fridge Charlie had on the side and twisted off the
cap for her.

He handed it to her and she took a deep swallow, just as Charlie returned to her side,
a number of pigments doled out on his tray in little pools. He dipped the device into
one of the blues, then began filling in the wings of the bird. She tensed again, and
this time Rafe reached for her hand. She glanced up at him and smiled timidly, then
gazed at Charlie’s handiwork, her fingers clinging tightly to Rafe’s hand.

“So why did you pick a bird?” Rafe asked, hoping to distract her.

“It’s a symbol.” She laughed tensely. “I guess that’s true for everyone. But for me
it represents freedom, and that’s something I’m trying to embrace right now. Not getting
caught up in other people’s expectations, and just being true to myself and my own
dreams, even if they’re impractical.”

She took another swallow from the water bottle. The bird took form as Charlie swirled
the tattoo machine along her skin. Melanie seemed to want to concentrate on watching
Charlie work, so Rafe just continued to stroke her hand. Although she was handling
the pain, after a while it seemed to be getting to her, so he drew her hair back from
her face, then curled his fingers behind her neck and kneaded the tense muscles. She
gazed up at him in surprise.

“That’s nice,” she said. “Thanks.”

She seemed to relax as she gazed at him rather than at the tattoo. There was something
in her bright green eyes that disturbed and yet elated him. A warmth that he realized
he’d seen before. Had she always looked at him that way and he’d never noticed?

A tightness coiled in his stomach. Or had he chosen not to notice? Shutting it out
because, he realized now, he felt the same warmth for her but he would never act on
feelings for an employee. He would never put her in that position.

They’d been close when he’d been her boss. At least, they’d shared a friendly camaraderie.

And he’d told her things he wouldn’t tell just anyone, like when he’d fallen in love
with Jessica during a year of soul searching, then lost her. When he’d found her working
for his brother on his return to Philly, he’d hoped for a reconciliation, but that
hadn’t worked out.

But here was Melanie, looking absolutely sinful as a sheen of sweat appeared on the
swell of her cleavage. She bit her full bottom lip, and his gut told him it was worth
exploring where this might lead.

Charlie wiped the design with his cloth, then changed pigment. Melanie tensed when
he started up again and Rafe continued stroking her neck, pleased that he could help
her through this.

Charlie continued filling in the tattoo. Finally, he sat back and stared critically
at the bluebird design for a moment, then nodded and smiled. As well he should. It
was stunning. Charlie grabbed a big handheld mirror and offered it to her. She took
the mirror and held it so she could see the design front on, rather than staring down
at it. Her face lit up with a beautiful, beaming smile.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!”

“It really is,” Rafe agreed, though he found he couldn’t drag his gaze from her stunning
features.

High cheekbones and soft-looking, heart-shaped lips. A delicate chin and pert little
nose. And big emerald green eyes that seemed to glow.

How had he never realized how beautiful she was before?

Charlie applied cream to the tattoo. The sight of his big fingers rubbing vigorously
over the soft flesh of her breast sent a little jealously surging through Rafe. And
a shot of adrenaline as his groin tightened at the thought of his own hand stroking
her breast like that.

Charlie covered the tattoo with gauze and she stood up. Rafe followed her out the
door, then to the reception desk.

Rika smiled. A new gem—deep red, probably a garnet—glinted from her lip. He hadn’t
noticed it when he came into the shop. It was her fifth, joining the blue, green,
amber, and purple ones already there.

“I like the new piercing.”

Her smile broadened. “Yeah, thanks. Happy with your new ink?”

“I am. As always.” He glanced at Melanie.

She nodded. “It’s beautiful. He did a fantastic job.”

“Good. That’s what we like to hear.”

Rafe pulled out his credit card and slid it into the small device on the counter.
He finished the transaction, then pulled out some twenties and handed them to Rika.
“Please give that to Charlie.”

“Sure thing.” Rika placed the money in an envelope behind the counter.

Melanie placed her bag on the counter.

Rika smiled at her. “Oh, you’re all set. Your gift certificate covered it.”

“Okay, but … um…”

“If you’re worried about the tip, hon, it was enough to cover that, too. No worries.”

Melanie looked relieved, and Rafe realized she was probably on a pretty tight budget
since her new job likely didn’t pay anything near what she’d been making at Ranier
Industries. He didn’t really understand why she wasn’t looking for something better.

*   *   *

As Melanie stepped outside, Rafe behind her, she regretted that this time with him
was about to end. The tattoo had been painful, but not as bad as she’d anticipated.
It had been so nice, though, having him there to literally hold her hand through it.

“Would you like a ride home?” he asked.

She gazed at him in his jeans and tank top, tattoos visible over his chest and flowing
down his arms and she couldn’t help laughing. “I just got a mental picture of you
dressed just as you are now climbing into that shiny, black limo.”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not? Would you like to ride in the limo?”

She had always wanted to. It seemed so glamorous and luxurious. It would be a taste
of how the other half lived.

“Or, since it’s such a nice day, we could ride my motorcycle.”

She raised her eyebrow. “You have a motorcycle?”

“That’s right. It’s over there.” He nodded his head toward a big, gleaming, burgundy
Harley parked on the street in front of the shop. “But I know some women are a little
intimidated by them.”

Melanie laughed. “Not me. I’ve always wanted to ride one.” She walked to the big machine
and ran her fingers over the soft, black, leather seat. “I would love to ride with
you.”

His lips turned up in a devilish grin. “Really?”

She glanced at him and realized her statement might have sounded a little … sexual.
Suddenly, an image washed through her of straddling Rafe, and slowly moving up and
down on him, his big erection buried deep inside her. A wild surge of hormones vibrated
through her.

As her cheeks blossomed with heat, she flicked her gaze to the seat again. “Um, yeah.
It would be a real adventure. Then I can cross two items off my bucket list—getting
a tattoo and riding a motorcycle.”

“I never knew you had such a wild side.”

Before she could respond, he opened the back compartment and handed her a helmet,
then pulled one on himself.

She opened her bag and grabbed the light sweater she’d brought with her and started
to pull it on. Ever the gentleman, Rafe grabbed it and held it up for her so she could
easily push her arms into the sleeves. As she zipped it up, he pulled a black leather
jacket from the storage bin and put it on.

Oh, man, he looked incredibly hot in denim and leather. He mounted the bike and she
climbed on behind him.

Once she was settled, he glanced back at her. “You sure you want to go straight home?”

“No, take me for a ride.” She smiled.

The big machine roared to life.

“Hold on,” he said.

Melanie gazed at the broad shoulders in front of her and wrapped her arms around his
waist. Her heart quivered at the feel of his big body so close, then when he took
off into traffic, she hung on tight, her body pressed to his solid back.

He swerved around a car that suddenly pulled into traffic and she gasped, a surge
of adrenaline shooting through her, but she knew she was safe with Rafe in control.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said loudly over the sound of the engine.

Okay?
She was in heaven.

Even if she died right now, she’d be a happy woman. For so long, she had dreamed of
being close to Rafe, their bodies locked together. And now, riding on the back of
his bike with nothing around them but rushing wind gave her the sensation that she
was flying.

He turned right and she clung tighter, her cheek pressed against his back. She breathed
in the subtle smell of his leather jacket, loving the soft yet masculine feel of it
against her skin.

The vibration of the big machine beneath her, coupled with the feel of his big body
so close had her whole body quivering with need. Fantasies of him pulling over and
sweeping her into his arms, then kissing her silly vibrated through her brain. If
he did that, she just knew she’d beg him to take her back to his place and have his
way with her.

He slowed down and pulled into a parking space in front of a restaurant with a patio
out front. Rectangular planters filled with petunias in vivid pinks, rich purples,
and white were affixed to the wrought-iron railing defining the outdoor space. He
stopped the engine and, reluctantly, she released his big body, wishing she could
hold onto him forever.

He dismounted and pulled off his helmet.

“You like Italian? This place is great, and casual attire is okay.”

“It looks lovely, and I adore Italian food.”

She pulled off her helmet and he stowed it with his in the hard-shelled compartment
on the back of the motorcycle.

As soon as they stepped inside, a man in a suit hurried to greet them.

“Mr. Ranier, my pleasure to see you this evening. Would you like a table on the patio?
Or would you prefer to be inside?”

Rafe glanced at her.

“Do you mind if we stay inside?” she asked. “In case it gets cold.”

“No problem,” the host said. “I have a table right by the window. You’ll have a lovely
view.”

“Thank you, Giorgio.” Rafe gestured for Melanie to follow Giorgio as he led them to
their table.

True to his word, Giorgio sat them at a table with a view of the street out front
and the lovely flowers.

“The chicken marsala is one of our specials tonight. I know how much you enjoy that.”
Giorgio opened a menu and set it down in front of her, then did the same for Rafe.
“Also, Antonio made a special lobster-stuffed ravioli with a rosé sauce.”

A waiter placed ice water in front of them, each glass with a twist of lemon, then
continued on his way.

“Lobster ravioli?” Melanie smiled. “That sounds delicious.”

“Two raviolis it is, and a carafe of the house wine.” Rafe closed his menu and handed
it to Giorgio.

“Excellent.” Giorgio scooped up her menu and hurried away.

Melanie picked up the cloth napkin and laid it on her lap. When she glanced up again,
Rafe’s sky blue gaze was upon her. She sipped her water, not quite sure what to do
with herself.

“This is kind of strange,” she said finally.

His eyebrows hiked up. “What is?”

“Sitting here with you. In a restaurant.”

“We’ve been out for meals together before.”

“Yeah, sure. At Christmas. Usually with a couple of the other staff.”

“And on your birthday.”

It was true. He’d always been very considerate that way.

“But you were my boss. This is different.”

He smiled. “That’s right. Now it’s as friends.”

She had to stop her smile from fading. Friends. Great. He’d gone from being her boss
to being her friend. Not really what she’d been hoping for.

“We can be friends, can’t we?” he asked.

“Of course. I’d like that.”

“Good.”

The waiter brought the carafe of wine and filled their glasses.

“So are you enjoying being back?” she asked.

After Rafe’s father had died, Rafe had left Philadelphia and disappeared for almost
a year. Their overbearing father had pushed Rafe to follow in his footsteps, heedless
of what Rafe wanted, and once the man was gone, Rafe had needed to get away and discover
who he really was. So he’d left Ranier Industries and pursued his dream of being a
guitarist in a rock band, and right now, with his faded jeans and tattoos, he looked
every bit the part.

Melanie could just picture crowds of women swooning when he came on stage.

“Do you miss it?” Melanie asked. “The rock star lifestyle, I mean.”

“I enjoyed being on the road, but it made me realize that despite my difficulties
with my father, I really do care about the company. It’s the Ranier legacy, and it
employs a lot of great people. Since I’ve been back, I’ve been doing more to develop
green technologies, which has always been a passion of mine. And I’m pleased with
all the positive changes Dane has made. The only thing that’s hard to get used to
is the rigid schedule.”

“Well, you’re the boss. You can keep your own hours.”

“To an extent. But on the whole, business still needs to be done during business hours.”

She understood what he meant. He could come in late if he wanted, and leave early,
but a lot of what he did involved meeting with other people, and that mostly had to
be done during the regular business day.

“Remember, during the past year, I’ve been playing with a band, and the hours are
quite different.”

“Well, you could always set a schedule where you only spend a few days in the office
and take all your appointments on those days only. Then the other days are your own.
Maybe you could play guitar somewhere local. Even a club out of town, if you want
to reduce the chance of Ranier employees running into you as Storm.”