Lauren Dane: Drawn Together

As always, my thanks go first and foremost to my husband. Without the support and understanding from my family, this gig would be a lot harder. And without him it’d be a lot more difficult to write an alpha male!

My thanks always go to my friends, who are such a fabulous support system. To Megan Hart, for being so awesome. And to my delightful, brilliant hoors at the Loop That Shall Not Be Named.

More thanks:

My incredible friend and assistant Fatin, who truly makes my life so much easier.

Mary, who is a wonderful beta reader.

My editor, Leis Pederson, who is so wonderful to work with.

The Berkley art department and Tony Mauro, who have consistently created such fabulous covers for my books.

Laura Bradford, my agent.

And always, to the readers who make this all possible!

“So Levi tells me you’re a tattoo artist.”

Jonah Warner was beyond hot. He was on-fire sexy. Like panties on fire. Raven looked him over, imagining him naked. Imagining him over her, under her, whatever. Just naked and doing something sexy with her would do just fine.

He had a voice like smoke. Like caramel and other things made with heavy cream and possibly deep fried. He was whatever things that were a thousand calories that you ordered anyway because you had to consume them.

“I do okay.”

He looked her over with slow perusal. As if he was wondering what she looked like naked too. Which was absolutely fine with her.

One corner of his mouth lifted and she licked her lips, imagining his taste.

“You do more than okay.” He held a hand out. “I’m Jonah Warner. Levi’s brother. I know we’ve seen each other in passing at various events but I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’d have remembered.”

She took the hand and he slid a thumb over her wrist as he shook it.

“I’m Raven.”

He made her all tingly in the absolute best way. She wanted a bite of this man. Maybe a whole mouthful.

“Did you do Erin’s ink?” He tipped his chin toward where Erin stood with her brother Adrian.

“Nope. That’s all Brody Brown. I do okay. He’s a genius. But I’m hotter.”

Jonah laughed then and she had to fight the urge to step closer. Anywhere but this party and she might not have resisted. But she’d promised Erin to try her hardest to remember her manners.

“You are most assuredly hotter. He’s not my type at all.”

“Thank God for that. If you were gay, I’d be very disappointed.”

“That so?”

She nodded. “I mean, it’d be nice if a gal could watch. But the loss of such a stunning specimen would make womankind very sad.”

He cocked his head, leaning back against the wall. “Brody recommended you actually. For ink. I have a project.”

“What are you thinking of?”

“Would you like a drink?”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

He took her elbow and steered her to the small bar. The party was in honor of Mary Whaley and her new fiancé, Damien. He’d asked her to marry him in front of a crowd of tens of thousands and she’d said yes.

A mutual friend, Gillian, was hosting and had invited Raven. Anyone else and she might have said no. She wasn’t much for engagement parties. But it was impossible to say no to Gillian, so Raven didn’t try.

She liked the way he handled her. He didn’t ask, but he gave her a moment and some space to pull away. But once she didn’t he took over.

He looked her up and down as they waited for the bartender.

“Pear martini for the lady. Sidecar for me.” He slid some bills into the tip cup and handed her the martini once it was finished.

“Interesting that you’d assume I wanted this.”

He tapped his glass to hers as he steered her away. “I had one earlier. It’s strong and yet fragile. It occurred to me that it was a lot like you.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.” He held a chair out and she sat.

“I don’t know you well enough to know what sort of sushi you like. But a drink is another thing entirely. It’s good, yes?”

Oh this one. He had trouble written all over him. Bossy. Dominant. She would normally have thrown her drink in his face and walked away from a man like him. But there she sat, sipping a really delicious martini.

“Tell me about your ink.”

“I want a full back piece. A wolf.”

“Why?” She’d done a dozen wolves. If he wanted a full back piece, it should mean something or he should realize that if it didn’t, he’d be stuck with something that meant nothing to him for the rest of his life. A small tattoo you could cover up or even get removed. But she was a big believer in full disclosure about the commitment one made with a tattoo of that size.

“Why do you want to know?”

“A back piece will take a lot of time. Some pain. Money. And it’ll be on your skin forever. Partly I want to know because it’ll be important in my design. For instance, do you want a Norse-style wolf? A Celtic-style wolf? Pacific Northwest Native American? A face in tight? A wolf moving or running? In a pack? Are there other elements you want in it? How do you envision it sitting on your skin? Also, this is a big, permanent thing. Sometimes people think it doesn’t matter if the tat has no meaning and for some people that might be true. But a tat that large? I like to make sure people understand that a tattoo isn’t like a pair of pants or hair color. You can’t just change something the size of a full back piece.” She shrugged.

He raised a brow. “I understand. How long have you been doing tattoos?”

“Since I was nineteen.”

“So for what? Four years?”

She laughed. “You’re so full of it. You know how hot you are, you don’t need the bullshit to get some tail.”

“You’re a beautiful woman. Is that better?”

“Infinitely.”

“Wolves symbolize things I believe are important. Loyalty. Honor. Protection. As for style, would it be possible to have you give me a few ideas to choose from?”

“Yes. I can show you some of my work. I have a portfolio.”

“All right. You come highly recommended but it can’t hurt to see your work. Do you do house calls?”

“I do.”

“Would you like to have a drink with me? At my place. After you show me your portfolio that is.”

“Is the drink contingent on the portfolio?”

“No. I’d want to have a drink with you either way.”

He was blunt. She liked blunt a great deal. She was bad at reading people and being coy. It took more energy than she normally had. Definitely more skill.

“All right.” She pushed her phone his way. “Put your number in there and I’ll call to schedule something.”

He leaned across, placing a hand over hers. “What are you doing tonight after this?”