Page 64 of Tears of Ink

It’s just the two of us, and I like it… I like him. I can’t remember the last time I thought that about anyone. Normally it’s just a desire for a physical connection. But this is something else. I want to know everything about him. I want to know what makes him who he is. Why he paints what he does. Why he does what he does.

“So you can only date someone who is good for the family name?” I think this is what he’s hinting at.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t nod his confirmation, but it’s right there in the depths of his eyes. “That’s bollocks,” I add. “Even Prince William married a commoner.”

He snorts and finally shakes his head, although it’s at the wrong moment for my liking. “Rumour is Catherine was groomed from a young age to meet William. Do you think it’s a coincidence they met at uni and it was all happily ever after?”

I stare at him in shock. “Really?”

“Course.”

“So, has someone been groomed to marry you?”

He waves his hand and chuckles. “No.”

“I’m sensing a but…”

“But my family have made it clear, I follow family protocol, or I’m cut off.”

“From the money?”

“From everything—out the door, don’t come back.”

My hands curl into tight fists when I think of the injustice of it. “So you can’t make a choice about your job, who you date, what you do in your spare time?”

“What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.” There’s a dangerous twinkle in his eyes. Is he talking about me? My stomach flutters but I beat it down. I’m not even considering that. His situation is even more fucked-up than mine and I’ve had enough fucked-upness for one lifetime.

“I feel bad for you. And I thought it was crap being dragged up in a tattoo shop in Brighton.”

He scoots closer and uses gentle fingers to lift my hand, turning my arm this way and that so he can follow the traces of patterns weaving along my skin. “They really are extraordinary. Did your uncle do them all?”

I follow one creeping chain of flowers which runs along my inner arm. “Most of them. Some I did, but I’m awfully right-handed so it’s hard for me to do anything other than on my lower body.” I point to the small delicate flowers that create part of the chain. “Some Dan did.”

“Who’s Dan?” The blues burn my face like a spotlight.

“Dan is Uncle Al’s son.” I can’t help but smile.

“And you two were together?”

Laughing, I shake my head. “No, although Al is determined we will marry. It’s his dying wish. Or so he said the other week.”

“I don’t like this Dan already.” Elijah smiles but my heart beats erratically. What does he care if I’m supposed to marry my old childhood friend? Not that I would.

“We grew up together, we had an unconventional childhood. Our fathers owned a shared shop, so Dan and I were just wild over the summer months, running the streets and then eventually when we were old enough, we learned the trade.”

“But you wanted more?”

My shutters snap down with a bang. “I don’t talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“Anything.”

“Why you ran away from Brighton?”

He confuses me with his quick-fire questions. “No.” I shake my head.

“Why you’re covered in tattoos?”