shook his head.
‘Any other diseases I should know about?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’ He tried not to stare at the tattoo on her left breast, a dagger piercing a heart. ‘Shouldn’t we get to know each other a little first?’
She snapped on a pair of latex gloves. ‘I’m not one for small talk.’
‘I’ve noticed.’ He watched her peel away the bloodied dressing applied by his previous first aider. ‘You know what you’re doing?’
She dropped it into a sanitised disposal unit. ‘My job dictates I draw blood. Occupational hazard.’
‘I imagine you’re very good at it.’
She almost smiled. ‘Funny guy.’
The way she’d said ‘funny guy’ gave him another strong sense of déjà vu. There was something oddly familiar about this woman. But if they’d met before, he’d definitely remember. She wasn’t the kind of woman a man forgot.
He looked around the parlour. In contrast to the white gallery next door, this place was jet black. There was a sign on the wall that read: THINK BEFORE YOU INK. It was hung next to the image of a naked woman with a creeping vine entwined around her torso.
‘Your designs are exquisite.’
She rubbed something over his cut that stung. ‘I know.’
Modest, too. He winced when she pulled the edges of the cut together and taped it.
Unlike the woman who’d tended to him a few minutes earlier, this nurse wasn’t offering cups of tea or homemade cakes. Still, if it enabled him to get his painting back, he didn’t care.
He looked up at her. ‘I may need the room for a couple of nights, if that’s okay?’
She tightened the strapping. ‘Money upfront.’
He tried to breathe through the pain. ‘No problem. Just the room, you understand?’
She snapped off the latex gloves and placed her hands either side of his head. ‘I unnerve you, don’t I?’
Instinctively, he pushed back against the chair. ‘Hell, yeah.’
‘Relax, sweetie.’ She patted the side of his face. ‘You’re not my type.’ She straightened and held out her hand. ‘Money.’
‘Money, right.’ He got out of the chair and removed his wallet. ‘Thanks for the first aid.’ He handed her the cash.
She took the money and tucked it into her corset. ‘Keep the wound covered. Bleed over my equipment and you’ll—’
‘… die a slow and painful death. Yeah, I remember.’ He pocketed his wallet.
A faint smile played on her lips. She turned and walked away, the sway in her hips disturbingly hypnotic. ‘Follow me.’
He did as he was told. He suspected his landlady wasn’t quite as scary as she made out. But then, he’d never been smart where women were concerned.
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