Ryan scanned the walls. Although years of smoke had discolored the white paint, the curtains had shielded the surfaces too. “A good scrub might be enough,” he said. “The paint isn’t peeling off anywhere.”
“I agree,” Connor said. “It’s not the big job I envisaged.”
“That looks better,” Julia said, coming up behind him.
“What color are you painting it?” Connor asked.
Julia halted beside them, and once again the sense of rightness filled Ryan. “Christina suggested a deep midnight blue with borders of gold as accents. What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” Ryan said. “A dark color might allow you to project images onto the walls too.”
Julia seized his arm and squeezed, her eyes blazing with enthusiasm. “Great idea. I’ve been trying to work out how to make our acts and the club different and unique.”
“Good enough for a kiss?” He tapped a spot on his cheek, his breath hitching when he saw her hesitate. He’d done this to her, made her cautious. She wavered for so long the silence became uncomfortable.
Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.Whoa!Zero to a hundred in seconds flat. Urgency thrummed through him, his hands gripping her shoulders in case she pulled away. He took the kiss deeper, drinking her up like a thirsty man, savoring her heat and the press of her breasts against his chest, storing every single second to pull out later when he was alone.
“The girls have arrived for the auditions.” Maggie spoke loudly, right next to his ear. He started, pulled to the present and slackened his hold but didn’t release Julia.
“Oh, good.” Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I thought I’d need a hose to separate the pair of you. Didn’t you hear me the first time? Only three dancers turned up from the agency. We don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” Julia said.
Ryan winked at Julia, and she grinned back. Relief was a swift kick in the guts. His manhandling hadn’t scared her.
“I’d better check out these dancers,” she said. “Take a break or finish up for the day.” She strode away, and Ryan stared after her.
“You’ve got it bad for her,” Connor said.
“Yeah.” No denying the truth.
“If you hurt her, you’ll have me to deal with.” Connor’s hard gaze backed up his statement. “She—” He broke off, chagrin chasing across his face.
“What?”
“Under her tough exterior, she’s fragile. You want a drink or something to eat? I’m going for some fresh air.”
But he wasn’t inviting Ryan along. “I’m fine.” And because he wasn’t satisfied with the way the conversation had gone, he added, “I have no intention of hurting Julia.”
Connor held his gaze for a long second. “Make sure you don’t.”
A song with a good strong beat swelled through the air. The first woman started her routine, and it took Julia two minutes to decide she wouldn’t do. Julia held up her hand, a signal to Christina to stop the music.
“Where did you say you’d worked before?” Julia asked.
“The Purple Pussy.”
Julia tapped her pen against her notepaper. “If I take you on, you must learn some new routines and attend training classes.”
“I can do a strip routine.”
Julia didn’t intend to argue. “Thank you. I’ve seen enough.”
The woman stomped away muttering under her breath.
The second and third women, both in their early twenties and dark-haired, performed their routines, the unoriginal, lackluster moves shoving Julia’s spirits even lower. She signaled for the music to stop and strode up on the stage. “Are you both willing to do training?”
“That would be great,” the first said.
