Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(49)

That surprised a laugh out of him. “You’ll get used to it. I think you’ll like the other one better,” he told me.

“Please, tell me the other one is on your dick!”

I sent Judith a stern look for that one. She just dissolved into helpless giggles.

James bit the bottom lip of his pretty mouth, turning to show me his back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The tattoo was etched directly over the clean slab of his right shoulder blade. And, like the man himself, it was exquisite.

I stood, brushing close to him to study it intently. Tears ran liberally down my cheeks, embarrassing but irrepressible.

It was a portrait of my face, my hair flowing out to shape into lilies that formed a perfect frame, as though it were a painting. He had taken one of my self-portraits and etched it permanently into his skin. It was the sweetest, craziest, most romantic thing I’d ever witnessed, and I didn’t know what to make of it. I loved the tattoo on sight, though, loved having my painting turned into something so wonderful. Even the lilies used to frame the portrait had been copied from my work, I recognized. I was suddenly glad that I had spent so much time on the paintings he’d used, trying to get all of the details just so.

James was shooting me expectant looks over his shoulder, his face as happy and carefree as I’d ever seen it. “Well, what do you think?”

“Oh, James,” I said, my voice catching. “It’s exquisite. It’s more colorful than any tattoo I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen one that looks like this. It’s more like a painting than a tattoo. Why does it look so different?”

“I didn’t use any black ink for outlining. I used lighter colors for that. And with James’s dark skin, I was able to use white ink for the skin color, which gave it a very painting kind of feel. He’s one of the best canvases I’ve had the pleasure of working on. I’ll have to thank you for helping me finally get my hands on him. Obviously, you inspired his sudden interest in ink.” I hadn’t seen her approaching until she spoke, but the tattoo artist, Frankie, was suddenly beside me, pointing out details of the tattoo on his back, standing nearly as close to him as I was. I stiffened.

I knew it was illogical, and unreasonable, but realizing that another woman had done the tattoo, one he was obviously fond of, made me a little crazy. That red haze I was beginning to recognize as jealousy was now a pernicious film over my vision.

“Can I cover it now, James? Have you finished the show and tell?” Frankie asked him, sounding sassy but playful, her smile very warm on him.

He grinned at her, still looking over his shoulder, letting me look my fill.

I still studied the incredible portrait. I wanted to run my fingers over it, but even with my limited knowledge on the subject, I knew it was too new for touching. My hand gripped the top of his shoulder instead, as I leaned in very close and studied it intently, trying to ignore the woman standing too close, and too familiarly, beside James and I.

I was smiling in the picture, a slight, sort of enigmatic smile, my eyes heavy-lidded and mysterious. She had even matched the blue of my eyes astonishingly well. She was very talented, I had to admit. I had never even known a tattoo could look like that. Most of my friends had one or two, but they were usually outlined in heavy black, or else entirely black. What Frankie had done looked so much softer than that. It was hard to even think of James’s marking as the same thing.

“It’s beautiful. You’re very talented. I didn’t even know that a tattoo could look like that,” I told Frankie, trying to be civil, but my voice was stiff and a little cold.

James seemed to notice my tone, his eyes flying back to my face, studying me intently, his happy smile wilting a little, his eyes becoming solemn.

I felt instantly contrite. Just the wrong tone of voice, and his ridiculously happy mood seemed to have been subdued.

I tried to give him a smile, but I could feel that it looked forced. “I’m finished looking at it, if she needs to tend to it,” I told him, stepping back from him.

Frankie stepped in instantly, rubbing a clear gel over the entire inked surface. I watched her hands on him, and felt the strangest urge to move between them.

I moved away, turning my back to them.

Frankie’s voice was still friendly as she addressed me. “You’re very talented. I just did my best to do your picture justice. It was a real treat for me to get to work on a picture like that, on a body like

James’s. Talk about a work of art.” Her voice turned over the top flirtatious on the last sentence, and I knew she was talking about his body.

I counted to ten, hating myself for being so weak and so insanely jealous.

I heard Frankie giving James care instructions briefly.

“So, um, nice meeting you, Bianca. I’ll see ya around,” Frankie said, her voice still friendly, but a bit uncertain.

A brief glance at my group of friends showed most of them looking at me, wide-eyed, as though they weren’t sure what to make of my behavior. I couldn’t blame them. I felt ridiculous, but I still couldn’t look at James, worried that if Frankie was still near him, I would do something completely insane.

Stephan was the only one of the group who seemed oblivious to my strange reaction, his intent glare focused narrowly on James.

I just tensed up more when James hugged me from behind.

“We need a minute, guys. Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” James addressed the group, politely but briskly, his tone a courteous dismissal. He gripped the back of my neck, in that dominant spot, leading me into a room.