His to Claim (4 page)

He smiled. “You know me so well. I’ve already started looking into pulling together
a band and playing at some clubs, but I hadn’t thought of concentrating my office
hours into a few days.”

She smiled. “That’s why you love me.” As soon as she’d said the words, her gaze darted
to his face.

He chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

It was something he used to say when he would praise her after she offered a creative
solution to a problem he’d been struggling with. It had actually started with him
telling her he loved having her as his secretary, then eventually he’d shortened it
to
that’s why I love you
.

She knew he hadn’t really meant it, of course, other than in an affectionate way,
but it had still thrilled her every time he’d said it.

God, she was pathetic.

Their dinner arrived, and she picked up her fork and took a bite. The lobster-filled
pasta and smooth, creamy sauce melted in her mouth.

“You know, that’s why I really wish you’d come back. I miss working with you.”

She compressed her lips. “Rafe, I already told you—”

He raised his hands. “I know. I’m sorry. You already know the offer’s out there if
you want to come back.”

She nodded and took another bite. Then she gazed at him again. “But I won’t, you know.”
She put down her fork. “And it’s because of you.”

His gaze shot to hers and he tilted his head in question.

“I just really admire what you did. You took a risk and walked away. You were living
a life someone else had set out for you and instead of just accepting it, you decided
to pursue your dream. And to figure out who you really are.”

“I’m not sure I’ve really succeeded.”

“Yes, you have. Or at least, you’re on the right path.” She sipped her wine. “And
that inspired me to do the same. I’m not like you. I don’t know what I have a passion
for—yet—but I do know that I want to be free of rules, and as you said, the nine-to-five
existence.”

“Did I have too many rules?” he asked.

“No, they were mine. I always behaved the way I was expected to behave. I conformed
to what my family wanted, and what society expected. I never really took the time
to decide what
I
wanted. So now, with the generous severance Mr. Ranier gave me, I have the opportunity
to figure it out.”

“So you’re working at a coffee shop.”

“I don’t intend to be defined by my job. That’s just what I do to make money. But
working there means I have variable hours and some mornings free, and it’s the perfect
time to paint and sketch—something I never had time for in the corporate world. I
want to shake up my life, try new things, and question everything. Seeing what you
did inspired me.”

He smiled. “I’m glad. So what else do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe meet a handsome guy and do something really wild and crazy.”

His lips turned up in a grin. “You mean in the bedroom?”

“Oh, uh…” Ever since Jessica had told her a little about how exciting she found it
to be dominated in the bedroom, Melanie had dreamed of trying that herself, but she
hadn’t meant to let that slip.

She glanced at him and his eyes twinkled with mischief. Her cheeks flushed hotly.

“I just meant we wouldn’t do the same old boring things.” This was not making it better.
“You know, like dates where we go to the movies or whatever.”

As he gazed at her speculatively, she stared at her wineglass, wrapping her fingers
around the stem.

“I don’t intend to fall into old patterns,” she continued. “I want to push the limits
on everything I do. At least, for a while.”

She took the conversation back to her art, and before long, the waiter took away their
empty plates, offered dessert, which they declined, and the bill arrived. They stepped
out into the warm evening air and walked toward his big motorcycle.

“May I give you a ride home?”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

She climbed onto the big machine behind him and they sped across the city to her apartment
building. Too soon he pulled up in front of the entrance and got off the bike, then
retrieved her bag from the storage container and walked her to the glass door.

“Thanks again for dinner. And the ride home.” She opened her purse and pulled out
her key. She gazed up at him. “And I really appreciate you staying with me while I
got the tattoo.”

“It was my pleasure. You know, today I saw a whole new side of you, and I found it
very intriguing.” He smiled warmly. “I’d really like the opportunity to get to know
you better.”

She gazed at his handsome face, mesmerized by his twinkling, sky blue eyes, and returned
his smile. “I’d like that.”

She longed to reach up and stroke his spiky, dark hair. They stood in silence for
a few seconds and she realized he was waiting for her to open her door.

It had been a wonderful evening and she didn’t want it to end, but she was sure as
soon as she opened her door, he would say good night and be gone.

“I … uh … do you think it was a good choice? The tattoo I mean?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours is gorgeous,” she said. “Do you think mine looks as nice?”

“Yours is beautiful. I can’t believe I didn’t know you had such artistic ability.
And you said it represents freedom. Because you’re spreading your wings?”

She nodded. “Freedom and happiness. The bluebird of happiness taking flight.”

He smiled. “I like that. And I like that I got to see the tattoo that only a few special
men will ever see.”

The warmth in his eyes sent a quiver through her. It had been embarrassing pulling
down her top to reveal her breast with Rafe there. And exciting at the same time.

“Along with the stranger who put it there,” she said.

Oh, man, why had she ruined the mood by saying that?

He laughed. “I guess that’s true.”

“Um…” She gazed up at him. “Do you want to come up and see it again?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she thought she’d die. How could she say that?

Their gazes locked, and he hesitated.

“Oh, God, I shouldn’t have said that.” She stuffed her key into the lock and turned
it, then pulled open the door. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Of course, she
had meant it exactly the way it sounded, but his hesitation had spoken volumes.

The uncertainty in his eyes prompted her to continue. “It’s just that I’ve never had
a tattoo before and … well, I’m just being silly wanting you to look at it when I
take the dressing off. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“If you’re really concerned—”

“No, really. It’s fine. Thanks anyway.”

Oh, God, was he really buying that? But she definitely didn’t want him to come up
now. It would be so awkward.

He smiled. “I enjoyed today. Thank you.” He tucked his finger under her chin and tipped
her face up, sending tingles through her. His lips brushed hers in the barest whisper
of a kiss, and she thought she’d faint.

This was how fantasies were born.

Then he stepped back. “Good night.”

She nodded, then slipped in the door, glancing over her shoulder as she walked across
the lobby. He waited outside the door until she turned down the corridor to the elevator
before he walked away.

*   *   *

Rafe ensured Melanie got inside okay, then lingered as he watched her walk across
the lobby.

What the hell was that? And now he couldn’t drag his gaze from her delightfully swaying
derriere. It looked so round and inviting in those snug jeans of hers.

Memories of the creamy swell of her breast, the virginal flesh exposed and ready for
her tattoo, lingered in his mind. Ever since Charlie had covered it with the dressing,
Rafe couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop
longing
to touch it.

If it had been any other woman, he would have flirted all through dinner, then suggested
they go back to his place. Or hers. But when Melanie had invited him up to her place …
to see the damned tattoo, no less … he had faltered.

She had denied coming on to him, but she couldn’t hide the need in her eyes.

So why had he held back?

He flipped open the storage compartment on his bike and pulled out his helmet. There
were times they’d worked long hours together, and he couldn’t help but notice that
hot little body she kept well hidden behind her conservative business attire. But
he’d cared about her too much to jeopardize their working relationship.

So he’d suppressed his attraction to her. And with great success. He was sure neither
Melanie, Dane, nor anyone else knew he could barely contain himself when she was near.
He’d become such a master at controlling those feelings, he’d almost forgotten about
them.

Almost.

But today … fuck, his groin ached with need.

As he pulled on the helmet and fastened it, he noticed something sitting in the bottom
of the container, beside the helmet Melanie had worn.

Ah, damn it.

*   *   *

Melanie stepped off the elevator, then walked down the hall to her apartment. Once
inside, she closed the door behind her, then leaned against it.

Now, if only she could forget the whole embarrassing incident downstairs. She cringed
at the thought of her lame come-on, then the way she’d babbled in an attempt to deny
it. He’d probably seen right through her excuse.

She unzipped her sweater and tugged it off, then tossed it over the back of the couch.

“I’m such a dumbass,” she muttered as she walked into her bathroom and gazed in the
mirror at the white patch on her chest. She was happy to distract herself by pulling
off her top and gently peeling the dressing away, exposing the beautiful tattoo. The
artist had done a wonderful job. She touched the reddened flesh around the design.
It felt slick. She grabbed a fresh washcloth and dampened it, then wiped over the
tattoo, as per the instructions they’d sent with her. Then she reached for the small
tube of ointment from her dresser and applied it.

A knock sounded on her door. She pulled on her top again, then straightened it and
hurried to the entrance. She smiled, assuming it was Jessica, coming over to see her
new ink.

Oh, man, thank heavens Rafe hadn’t come up after all. It would have been awkward if
Jessica had arrived with Rafe here.

Especially since as soon as the man walked into her apartment, she probably would
have thrown herself at him and torn off his clothes.

She grabbed the doorknob, anxious to show Jessica her new tattoo. When she pulled
it open, shock vaulted through her.

There in the doorway stood big, sexy Rafe, a crooked smile on his face.

Savage Kiss

Melanie’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at the wickedly sexy Rafe, his large
frame filling her doorway.

“Uh … hi,” she stammered. “Come in.”

With his broad shoulders and tattoos flowing down his muscular arms, he could be an
intimidating presence. In fact, she was amazed someone actually let him in the front
door, but then, who would argue with him?

A shiver danced down her spine as he stepped inside. Big and utterly masculine, he
seemed to take up all the space in her tiny apartment. Something she’d dreamed of
for a long time.

“Sorry to just show up at your door, but your wallet fell out of your bag,” he said.
“I found it in the storage compartment when I went to grab my helmet.”

He held it out to her, and she almost giggled at the sight of her bright pink, rhinestone-adorned
wallet in his big, masculine hand.

Oh, damn, she was giddy.

She took it from him, trying to ignore the shiver of heat that rushed along her arm
at the brush of his fingers against hers.

“I’m glad you found it. I would have panicked tomorrow morning when I noticed it was
missing. Plus, it has my bus pass.”

She grabbed her purse and slid the wallet inside, then closed the snap, which was
a little flakey. That’s why the darned wallet had fallen out. Not that she was complaining.
It gave her another chance to see Rafe.

“So how’s your tattoo?” he asked. “I see you’ve taken off the dressing.”

Her hand fluttered to her breast as she turned to face him again. “Oh, it’s fine.
Just a little red, which they said to expect.”

His gaze slid to her breast, and she couldn’t push away the memory of her earlier
suggestion that he come up and check it out. Now, with him here, she was tempted to
draw down the fabric of her top to reveal the tattoo to him. And more.

“Okay. I guess I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait,” she said. “Would you like coffee? I have decaf. Or soda? Or beer?”

His lips turned up in a charming smile. “I’d like that. A soda will be fine.”

She went into the kitchen and filled two glasses with cola, then returned to the living
room to find him sitting on the couch. She handed him one and sat down beside him.

“Did you do that?” he asked, gazing at the sketch of a phoenix she’d framed and hung
on the wall over the desk.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It’s the same style as your tattoo.” He nodded toward the phoenix. “It’s very good.
Have you tried selling your art?”

She placed her glass on the coffee table. “Oh, no. I mean, sometimes a friend will
ask me to do something for them, but I never charge them.”

“You know, if you’re interested in doing something artistic for a living, I’m sure
we could find something for you in the art department at Ranier Industries.”

She smiled. “There you go trying to help me out again. You know, you’re not responsible
for me.”

“You’re right, but I’d like to help. Not because I feel obligated. I think you’re
talented and just need a chance to shine. I’d love to help you do that.”

“Did you want help when you broke away from the company and went off on your motorcycle
to find yourself?”

His lips quirked up. “No, but I have a big bank account to fall back on. And the family
business. You have to play it closer to the edge. But I get it. You want to do it
on your own.”