On Dublin Street The Bonus Material - Samantha Young Page 0,46

he beat the shit out of her. And it was a goddamn miracle she fought him off before he raped her.

Cole’s whole being revolted at the idea of putting his hands on her in anger and violence.

“Cole.” She smiled again and as if sensing his thoughts continued to reassure him further, “I know I had a meltdown last night, but honestly, I’m okay. I have a good life here—a good job, good friends. I’ve found more than I ever hoped to find when I moved here, so please don’t worry about me.”

Small she may be but she was fierce. To have gone through what she’d gone through and been left alone to deal with it herself in the aftermath was quite a feat. She didn’t seem to realize that or give herself credit for it. “That’s a tall order,” he said but shook his head in amazement. “You’re made of stern stuff, Shannon MacLeod.”

“It’s the hair. It’s magic hair,” she teased.

He laughed, pleased she really seemed okay. “It is definitely magical.”

“Am I getting my coffee any fucking time soon?” Rae suddenly called from next door, ruining the moment of camaraderie between them.

Cole would have frowned except Shannon giggled and the sound was startling and so goddamn adorable he wanted to sweep her up into his arms. He wondered if what he was feeling translated on his face because Shannon’s giggles quieted to a warm, almost shy smile. “I’d better…” she gave him a little wave before she walked out and Cole’s eyes immediately dropped to where her hair swayed above her pert, surprisingly round arse.

Fuck but she was perfectly made.

Cole groaned inwardly and sipped at his coffee. Maybe he wasn’t going to be as patient as he thought during Operation Seduce Shannon. Sexy and cute. Lethal mix.

“Thank God,” Cole heard Rae say loudly. “You don’t know how excruciating it is having to listen to you two lovebirds when I haven’t had my caffeine fix.”

Cole threw a disgruntled look at the wall between their two studios, wondering for not the first time if he could convince Stu to institute a ban on Rae talking in the morning.

“Don’t be mean,” He heard Shannon say.

“Why?” Rae retorted. “Are you going to kill me with your magical hair?”

Cole smirked despite himself.

“It is thick,” Shannon replied, sounding serious. “It would make good rope.”

Good for you, Shortcake, he thought, grinning.

“Dark. I like it, wee fairy.” Rae’s response was not surprising.

Shannon’s light footsteps made their way to Simon’s room and Cole heard him he say, “Tony kept me up late last night.”

Rae also heard because she immediately yelled, “No fucking sex talk!”

Cole didn’t hear what was said in Simon’s room next but whatever it was made Rae shout, “I heard that!”

“She has radar ears,” Shannon said loud enough for Cole to hear.

“So what?” Rae shouted back. “You have magical fucking hair!”

At that Cole burst out laughing, hearing Shannon giggle down the hall too. His laughter died to a grin but a warmth remained in his gut. A much needed warmth and reassurance after last night’s horrible revelations.

Shannon fit at INKarnate. She fit with Rae and Simon and even Tony. Now Cole just had to show her that she fit with him, too.

Over the weekend and much of the next week Cole stuck to Shannon as much as he could. He invaded her space in a way he hoped was non-intrusive. He wanted to give her a chance to get used to him, to get to know him, and build on the trust she already had for him without shoving his attraction for her down her throat.

He didn’t flirt too obviously with her, but he showered her with attention that couldn’t be misconstrued.

While he did that he worked on the drawing for the dragon tattoo Shannon had wanted but her ex hadn’t allowed her to get. Prick.

Together they finally decided on a predatory black-and-petrol-blue dragon in profile. It was perfect for Shortcake. It matched her fierceness.

Finally, Thursday morning, the day they’d agreed he’d do her tattoo for her, arrived. Cole woke up with anticipation. He got to put his mark on Shannon MacLeod. Whatever happened between them, she’d always think of him when she caught a glimpse of her tattoo in the mirror. Cole had felt pride over his tattoos, satisfaction and even humbled by the reaction of his clients. But he had never felt a possessiveness about a tattoo before.

Now his fingers itched with the feeling.

He wanted to touch her. Mark her. Bleed his art into her