couldn’t read her face at all. He didn’t know if she was about to throw a temper tantrum or burst into tears. ‘You said I was Princess Melly today.’
The whispered words speared straight into him. ‘You are, sweetheart.’
‘And that my every wish was your command.’
‘Yep, that’s right.’ If she didn’t want to talk about this, then he wouldn’t force her.
‘Then I want to see Jaz!’
He was hers to command. But how could he explain that neither one of them had the right to command Jaz?
Why was Jaz sad?
The thought distracted him. Perhaps that was why Mel’s escape plan succeeded because, before he realised what she meant to do, she’d slipped off her seat belt, slid out of the car and raced back down the street towards the tattoo parlour.
‘Bloody hell!’
Connor shot out of the car after her. He fell through the front door of the tattoo parlour in time to see Mel throw her arms around Jaz’s waist as Jaz emerged from the back of the shop.
‘What’s this?’ Jaz hugged Mel back but she glanced up at Connor with a question in her eyes.
‘I’m sorry.’ He shrugged and grimaced. Mel clung to Jaz like a limpet and an ache burned deep down inside him. ‘She got away from me. She saw you and thought you looked sad.’ He didn’t know what else to say because it suddenly hit him that Mel was right—something was wrong. Jaz was sad. He didn’t know how he could tell. Nothing in her bearing gave it away.
Two men emerged from the back of the shop—one of them the man who’d kissed Jaz on the cheek earlier. She smiled at them weakly and shrugged, much the same way he just had to her. ‘This is my friend, Melly…and her father Connor. This is Mac and Jeff.’
They all nodded to each other, murmured hellos.
‘Melly saw me and wanted to say hello.’ She knelt down to Mel’s level. ‘I am a bit sad, but I promise I’m going to be all right, okay?’
Mel nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me—’ Jaz rose ‘—I have some work to do.’
Connor saw the question forming in Mel’s eyes and wanted to clamp a hand over her mouth before she could ask it.
‘Are you going to tattoo someone?’
Jaz glanced briefly at him, then back to Mel. ‘Yes.’
He wondered why she sounded so reluctant to admit it. One thing was clear—she did not want them here.
Her sadness beat at him like a living thing. He remembered what had happened to Frieda. She has her friends.
‘Can I watch?’
Jaz crouched back down to Mel’s level. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Melly, and—’
‘I don’t mind.’ The man called Jeff spoke quietly, but somehow his words filled the entire room.
‘Are you getting the tattoo?’ Mel breathed, awe audible in every word.
‘I’m getting a picture of my little girl tattooed here.’ Jeff touched a hand to the top of his left arm.
‘Where is she? Can we play?’
He shook his head. ‘She’s a long way away.’
Melly bit her lip. ‘Is it going to hurt?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will it help if I hold your hand?’
‘Yes, it will.’ With a glance at Connor, Jeff picked Melly up in his great burly arms. Connor sensed that with just one word or look from him, Jeff would release Mel in an instant, but something in the man’s face and manner, something in the way Jaz regarded him, held Connor still.
Then they all moved to the back of the shop.
The tattoo took nearly two hours. Connor had never seen anything like it in his life. Beneath Jaz’s fingers, a young girl’s face came alive.
This wasn’t just any simple tattoo. It was an indelible photograph captured on this man’s arm for ever.
It was a work of art.
Mel watched Jaz’s movements quietly, solemnly. She held Jeff’s hand, stroked it every now and again. Finally she moved to where Connor sat, slid onto his lap and rested her head against his shoulder. He held her tight, though for the life of him he couldn’t explain why. Her relaxed posture and even breathing eventually told him she’d fallen asleep.
At last, Jaz set aside her tools and stretched her arms back above her head. She held up a mirror for Jeff to view the finished tattoo. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply.
Jaz leant across then and placed a kiss in the centre of Jeff’s forehead. ‘May she live in your heart for ever,’ she whispered.
That was when Connor realised why he held Melly so tight.
That tattoo wasn’t a work of art. It was a memorial.
‘Cherish her,’ Jeff said with a nod at the sleeping child.
‘I will,’ he promised.
Then Jeff left the room, closely followed by Mac, and Connor expelled one long breath. He reached out and touched Jaz’s hand. ‘That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.’ He didn’t smile. He couldn’t. But he wanted her to know how much he admired her skill and generosity.
When she turned, he could see the strain the last two hours had put on her—the overwhelming responsibility to do her absolute best work, not to make a mistake. It showed in her pallor, the lines around her eyes and mouth.
He adjusted the child in his arms, rose and put one arm around Jaz’s shoulders. ‘Let me take you home.’
For a moment he thought she would lean into him, but then she stiffened and edged away. ‘Mac will take me home, thanks all the same. Enjoy the rest of your day, Connor.’
Before she could move fully away, Melly stirred, unwrapped an arm from around her father’s neck and wound it around Jaz’s. It brought Jaz in close to Connor again—her arm touching his arm, his scent clogging her senses. The more of him she breathed in, the more it chased her weariness away.
‘That was way wicked!’ Melly said.
A spurt of laughter sprang from Jaz’s lips at the sheer unexpectedness of Melly’s words. She tried to draw back a little to stare into Melly’s face. Melly wouldn’t let her draw back any further than that. ‘Where did you pick up that expression?’
‘Carmen Sears. She looked after me for a couple of hours yesterday and I think she’s way wicked too.’
Jaz
