Robbie Cooper gets more than he bargains for when Shane Donald walks into his shop, photograph in hand, asking Robbie to tattoo the likeness on his skin.
There’s something about the photograph and the way Shane talks about the man in the photograph that ignites a spark deep inside Robbie, and he longs to know more. But will he like what he hears, and will he be able to control his instant attraction to his client?
"Rob, this bloke wants a portrait. I said he was looking at a couple of hours at least. He wants it done today, but I told him we close in fifteen."
Rob glanced at the photograph Rainbow had tossed onto the table, and his pencil once again stuttered on the paper. The photograph showed a man with laughing green eyes staring up at him from a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. The man's softly falling blond hair was lifted by a gentle breeze as he laughed at whatever the photographer was saying. The man's chest was bare and Rob's gaze touched on the beautiful tattoo of a wolf's head artfully placed around the man's belly button. He couldn't help but admire the artistry of the needle work, the wolf's fur so expertly done the tattooist may as well have used a brush and paint. But it was the expression that caught his eye. The photographer had captured a moment in time. An expression of tenderness so acute, that made Rob wonder if he'd ever been looked at that way. With completely unabashed joy… love.
"Hello?" Rainbow drew out the second syllable pointedly and Rob cleared his throat, glancing at the guy behind the desk and then back at his assistant.
"I can do it," Rob blurted out, cutting her off in mid-flow. "Bring him down."
"Rob it's not late night—"
"Maud," Rob ground out through his teeth in an attempt to keep his voice at a controllable decibel. "I said I can do it. Bring him down."
"Jeez, unbunch," Rainbow complained, folding her arms and glaring down at him. "I don't have to stay, do I?"
Rob rolled his eyes and waved an impatient hand at her. "God forbid you should have to work one minute later than five," he growled. "In fact, go home now—just make sure you turn the closed sign, pull the blinds and kill the lights at the front of the shop. Then sod off and do… whatever it is you do." He gazed up at her, confronted with the cavern of her mouth as she yawned widely. "What exactly do you do?"
"Well, on Thursdays I watch Eastenders. After which I go out and sacrifice a live goat or two. Then I bathe in their blood to keep my youthful complexion," Rainbow drawled sarcastically, flipping him the finger and spinning so fast on thin heels he was amazed she didn't break her neck as she walked back to the reception desk.