Free After Midnight by Sarah Grimm, Sarah Grimm Page A

subject. “So I’ve noticed.”
    “More than once, she’s had me beating my head against the wall.”
    “I know the feeling.”
    A deep chuckle rumbled from Thomas. “So tell me, do you want something done with this, or are you humoring Izzy?”
    “I haven’t given it much thought,” Noah replied. Curious, he walked to the counter to see what Thomas drew. “She didn’t tell me your profession, only that we would meet you for lunch.”
    “She’s never brought anyone to lunch before,” Thomas said as Noah stepped to his side.
    “No?”
    “No. She’s never mentioned you, either.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me.”
    “No?” Thomas gave him a hard, long stare. “But it bothers you.”
    It did. More than he wanted to admit. Isabeau was a bit too unaffected by him, when he couldn’t seem to get through more than a few hours without thinking of her.
    Never before had he been so aware of a woman from the moment he saw her—those incredible eyes, that compact body. After holding her in his arms last night—discovering her skin was warmer than he’d ever imagined, her hair softer—he knew it was going to be damn near impossible to keep thoughts of her at bay.
    “You live around here?” Thomas asked absently.
    “No. I’m here to record.”
    “With Pete?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Pete’s a good guy.”
    “He seems to be.”
    Thomas made one last mark on the sketchbook, placed the pencil down and pushed the book in front of Noah. “You’re a musician then?”
    “I’m a singer.” Noah studied the sketch before him and smiled. Thomas had started with the crude, rudimentary skull tattoo from Noah’s arm, then added and tweaked the design until it resembled something totally different. Something far more unique and artistic. If the man could do something like that in a matter of minutes, Isabeau’s praise had not been exaggerated.
    “Where do you call home?”
    “California,” Noah replied and Thomas’s brow knitted. “This is brilliant. You’re very talented.”
    “Thank you. If you weren’t interested in any changes, you could have it re-worked, brought back to its original brilliance.”
    Noah raised a shoulder. “I’ll let you know.”
    He shifted his gaze as Isabeau stepped into the room, sending a flash fire through his bloodstream. His gut tightened as he studied the intriguing lines of her profile while she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment her eyes slid back open and she turned, locking her gaze with his.
    Noah knitted his brow. She was pale. Her eyes full of something he couldn’t name. She pushed her hair away from her face, the impression of fragility fading as she continued to watch him, her mouth curving into a smile.
    “Are you two ready?” she asked.
    He let his gaze travel slowly over her, taking in her glossy ebony hair, the band insignia that decorated the front of her vintage tee, and the body-hugging jeans that rode so low on her hips that he was amazed they didn’t slide right off. He frowned as he zeroed in on her strappy, open-toed stilettos and for one blinding moment imagined her without the clothes—only smooth golden skin and those sexy damn shoes.
    “You’ll have to go without me today,” Thomas stated, pushing away from the counter and crossing to Isabeau.
    Noah blinked away the libidinous image.
    “What? Why?” Her eyes took on a sudden awareness. “What are you up to?”
    Noah wondered the same thing. Then he watched, intrigued as Thomas raised his hand to touch the bruise on Isabeau’s arm, only to lower it without making contact.
    “Your friend assures me that this is not his handiwork.”
    She straightened her shoulders and glanced in his direction. “Noah had nothing to do with it.”
    “Who did this to you?”
    Isabeau paused, letting the question hang in the air.
    “Tell me who did this to you,” Thomas persisted.
    She gazed up at her father, her concern evident. Her hand settled on his arm, where his muscles tightened and