Mace stood there for a long, pregnant moment and I wondered what he would do next because his eyes had flared to life with heat and need as soon as he’d touched me. I was also wondering what I would do if he dragged me to him. I was terrified to realize that I already knew the answer to that question.
Luckily, Mace finally released me and sat, his back to me. As beautiful as his front was, his back was a not so distant second. Another tattoo graced the span of his upper back and it was more intricate than any of the others. And its meaning didn’t need any explanation. This time I did run my fingers over the tattoo before I could stop myself. I let my eyes take in the detail of the angel’s wings while my finger followed her body down the middle of Mace’s back. He trembled beneath my touch but didn’t move otherwise. My eyes fixed on some letters beneath one of the angel’s wings but I managed to not speak the word this time around.
Evan.
A lover perhaps? A family member?
“You can read Latin?”
Mace’s voice wasn’t particularly loud when he spoke but it may as well have been a cannon going off because I yanked my hand away from his back.
“What?” I asked.
“You know how to read Latin?”
I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yeah,” I said as I reached for the gauze and antiseptic. “I learned in grade school.”
I focused my attention on the wound on Mace’s left shoulder and started cleaning it. I wasn’t particularly surprised when Mace didn’t even flinch when the antiseptic came into contact with his injury. I was very glad to see that the nails hadn’t damaged the tattoo.
“Grade school? Isn’t that a little young?”
“I guess. I sort of liked the challenge of it, though. Made all the other languages seem like a cakewalk,” I admitted with a laugh.
“Languages? With an ‘s’?”
“My parents were real big on impressions and nothing scores more points than having your kid be able to say, ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance’ in five different languages. I felt like those Von Trapp kids singing that goodbye song.”
This time it was Mace who actually chuckled and I let the sound settle over me like a comforting blanket.
“I bet they’re really proud of what you’ve got going here,” Mace said so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. And I wished I hadn’t because the pain that spiraled through me was unexpected.
“You okay, Mr. Davenport?”
The use of my surname snapped me out of my thoughts and I automatically said, “It’s Jonas.” I knew my tone had been too curt so I added, “Please.”
I wasn’t so sure why it mattered so much that Mace refer to me that way since it wasn’t unusual for someone seeking a job to speak to a potential employer with such formality but it still rubbed me the wrong way – even more so then when Devlin’s help called me that out of respect.
I glanced down at Mace as he looked over his shoulder at me and I was sure my heart stopped when he murmured, “Okay…Jonas.” He may as well have stroked his fingers down my spine because a shiver took over my whole body. And for whatever reason, he refused to release me from his gaze and my traitorous body was telling me to bend down and taste his wide, firm lips. I managed to pry my eyes from his and focused all my attention on placing a bandage over his injury.
I was both sorry and glad when I pulled my fingers away from his hot, smooth skin. “Your tattoo’s okay,” I said in a rush. “But you should probably get a tetanus shot.”
Mace flexed his shoulder as if to test the bandage’s staying power. “I’ve had one.” He stood and thankfully began tugging on his shirt. He didn’t turn to face me as he began buttoning it and I once again took in his whole appearance. The nice clothes looked really good on him but somehow didn’t fit…maybe because of the tattoos, maybe because of his line of work. And then it hit me…hard. He was probably dressed nicely to impress me in hopes of increasing his chances of getting the job.
“I’d like to buy you a new shirt,” I stammered as I dealt with the conflicting emotions that went through me. The man in front of me both terrified and intrigued me and that in itself was a dangerous combination. I couldn’t get past the open hatred he’d shown me downstairs but I couldn’t forget that he’d used his body to shield mine either. Maybe I’d misread what I’d seen in his eyes when we first met…maybe I was letting the past bleed into my current reality.