Before he was even aware of it, he hurried forward, intrigued. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. The hunt. Discovery. Challenge. Interest. He wanted to know who this woman was, and what that collar she wore meant.
And even as he strode toward her, he knew that if it did mean what he thought it did, he was trespassing on another man’s territory, and furthermore, he didn’t give one fuck.
Poaching another dominant’s submissive was one of those unwritten no-nos, but then Ash had never been one for rules. At least the ones he himself didn’t make. And this woman was beautiful. Intriguing. And perhaps exactly what he was looking for. How would he know unless he got to her before she bailed?
He was nearly to her when she whirled around, bag in hand, obviously preparing to walk away, and she nearly bumped headlong into him. Yeah, he was absolutely invading her space, and he’d be lucky if she didn’t scream the park down. He probably looked like some stalker about to attack.
He heard her quick intake of breath as she took a step back, banging the bag into the chair she’d vacated. The bag tipped over, coming loose from her grip, and the contents spilled, pencils, brushes and papers flying everywhere.
“Damn it!” she muttered.
She bent immediately, grabbing for the papers, and he chased after one that had been caught by the wind, taking it several feet away.
“I’ll get them,” she called. “Please don’t trouble yourself.”
He captured the drawing and picked it up, turning back to her.
“It’s no trouble at all. I’m sorry if I startled you.”
She let out a shaky laugh as she extended her hand for the paper. “You did that for sure.”
He glanced down, taking in the drawing as he started to hand it over to her and then blinked in surprise when he saw himself on the paper.
“What the hell?” he murmured, ignoring her hasty grab for the drawing.
“Please just give it back,” she said, her voice soft and urgent.
She sounded scared, like he was going to freak out, but he was more mesmerized by the small expanse of her side that had been bared by the loose-fitting top when she’d reached for the paper.
On her right side he’d glimpsed a tattoo that was vibrant and colorful. Like her. The brief glimpse he’d gotten told him it was flowery, almost like a vine, and that it likely extended a hell of a lot farther up or down her body. Maybe both. He wished like hell he could see more of it, but she let her arm drop and the hem of her shirt settled back to the waistband of that full skirt, depriving him of further view.
“Why were you drawing me?” he asked curiously.
Color invaded her cheeks, making her skin rosy. She had fair skin, just barely kissed by the sun, but with her hair and those gorgeous aquamarine eyes, it looked beautiful. She was beautiful. And evidently very talented.
She’d drawn him perfectly. He’d had no difficulty in recognizing himself in the pencil drawing. His thoughtful expression, the distant look in his eyes. She’d drawn him as he’d stood there, hands shoved into his pockets. That moment of self-reflection, and clearly that was evident in the drawing. It made him feel awkwardly vulnerable that a complete stranger had been able to capture his mood in just a few moments. That she’d seen him in that vulnerable moment and had picked up on what he hid from everyone else in the world.
“It was just an impulse,” she defended. “I draw a lot of people. Things. Whatever captures my attention.”
He smiled, never dropping his gaze from hers. Her eyes were so expressive, capable of swallowing a man whole. And that damn choker stared back at him, taunting him with the possibilities.
“So you’re saying I caught your attention.”
She flushed again. It was a guilty flush, but also one that was telling. She was checking him out every bit as much as he was checking her out. Perhaps more subtly, but then subtlety had never been one of his strong points.
“You seemed out of place,” she blurted. “You have very strong features. I was itching to get them down on paper. You have an interesting face and it was obvious you had a lot on your mind. I find people are a lot more open when they think no one is watching them. If you’d been posing, the picture wouldn’t have been the same.”