She hesitated, frantically wondering how to break the news of her career change. “I’m r-really excited to be here, N-Nolan, and it’s great to meet you. Um…I…ah…like to dance. I go out with my f-friends to clubs and r-r-rugby matches. Sometimes we go shopping or to m-movies.” Her heart hammered like the beat in a fast dance, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it to force her features into a happy, confident mask.
“Not many shops out in the country.”
“No, I don’t suppose there are.” Her fixed smile wobbled and tried to slink away to hide. Was he trying to sabotage her? Had he taken an instant dislike to her?
Too bad.
If they were destined to be together, he needed to know she possessed a steel rod of determination in her spine. She added a touch of sweetness to her smile and hoped she didn’t look like a caricature. “The internet works well for shopping. You can buy just about anything online these days from farm equipment to dresses.”Yay! No stuttering this time.
His brown eyes glazed over and he sipped his orange juice.
Heck, she was losing him.
“Do you enjoy your job?” he asked. “If we hit it off with each other, would you miss not working?”
“I don’t work in an office anymore,” Susan blurted.
“Oh?” His dark brows rose to emphasize his surprise. “You gave up your job? You must be very certain of your future.”
“No, I have a new job. One of my friends owns a club, and I work for her now.”
“What sort of club?”
Susan’s heart skipped several beats, leaving her breathless, definitely anxious. “What qualities do you want in a wife?”
“One who answers questions. What sort of club?”
“A burlesque club,” she said in a low voice, mortified heat blooming fiery-hot again in her cheeks. She shot a glance at the camera, saw the man zoom in on her face, recording every bit of the unfolding drama.
“You like to dance.” It sounded like an accusation.
He was judging her, reading between the lines and making mistakes with his version of the facts.
Susan gave a clipped nod, unhappily aware of the camera. She refused to lie. That was no way to start a relationship. So she was going to crash at the first interview. Didn’t matter. She’d done her best, and if she was bowing out of the reality show straight away, she might as well giveMaxwell’sa shout out and gain some exposure.
“I work atMaxwell’s, a burlesque club on K’ Road in Auckland,” Susan said. “I take care of the accounts and wages and dance on stage several nights a week.”
“You’re a stripper,” Nolan said, eyes narrowing into disparaging slits.
“You need to educate yourself about burlesque.” Susan kept an even tone, refusing to stoop to his level. “Burlesque is not the same as stripping.”
“But you do perform on stage.”
“Yes, and I’m rather good at it.Maxwell’sis a very busy place.” Nothing less than the truth, and even she heard her shimmering pride.
Nolan stared, and his intense gaze ricocheted through her body, frisking every pleasure point during the journey. A pity he’d set himself up as judge of her morals when he held so much sex appeal.
“I wonder if you’d find the countryside a little quiet,” he said. “We don’t have shops or movie theatres or clubs.”
“I’m open to trying new things,” Susan countered. “I’ve never lived in the country, but I’m sure I’ll keep myself amused.”
“I see.”
“What do you envision your wife doing?” Susan made a concerted effort to control the combative note in her voice. “Will she help you on the farm or stay home and bake cookies?”
Nolan flashed a wide grin, and her breath caught at the flash of dimples. A smile took him from handsome to plain stunning. He kept grinning instead of answering her questions, making for a long camera silence.
Susan rolled her eyes, feeling immeasurably older, even though he was two years her senior. “Well?”
