Chapter Four
Despite the threedrinks earlier, I remained sober. Without a word, I left Cort’s side and as if pulled by an invisible string, walked off the stage, directly to the man’s table. His laser-sharp focus remained on me, and a curl of something unknown and frightening twisted through me. The music boomed like a mountain of sound as I came face-to-face with the man who’d sabotaged my sleep for months.
“Hello.” His gentle voice with its light accent set my nerves tingling. It was at such odds with the power of his large frame. I held my head high and hoped my voice would remain steady.
“Hello. Do you want a dance?”
“Not now. How are you, and how was your week?”
I blinked at him. Was he teasing me? The slight smile tilting his lips was unmistakable.
“Why?” I tossed my head. “We aren’t friends. I don’t—”
“We could be,” he said, interrupting me. “I’d like to be your friend.”
This was nuts. “Look. I’m here to work. Do you want a lap dance?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I gnawed on my lower lip, annoyed at my hot flare of disappointment. “Okay, well…I have to go dance, then.” I turned to go.
“I want a private dance.”
A dangerous thrill showered through me, and I raked my waves back off my face, saying with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, “Okay. Follow me.”
We walked to the back, my heart thumping almost as loudly as the music. Remembering the most important thing, I stopped so suddenly, he almost ran into me.
“Changed your mind?”
I had to raise my eyes to meet his. I grazed six feet, but this man topped me by several inches.
“Private dances are expensive. I have to tell you before we start. Those are the rules. There’s a bottle charge and a one-hour minimum. It’s $400 per hour.”
That slight smile reappeared, and he reached out his hand to brush the curls from my face. “Let’s go. There’s no price tag you can put on how you make me feel.”
For a moment I allowed myself to be drawn in and swayed toward him. It would be easy to let him take the lead. A noise caught my attention, and I saw Frankie in the arms of a man, walking out the door of his assigned room—his pupils dark, face flushed, looking thoroughly owned.
Not me. No.That put my head back together, and I waved my hand.
“Fine. Let’s go.” I heard his footsteps behind me, and occasionally his suit jacket would brush my naked skin, but I refused to let it affect me. We reached my assigned room, and after he entered, I closed the door and turned on the one lamp, which sent a spill of golden light across the richly carpeted floor.
A large sofa, big enough for two to recline on easily, took up the back wall. A low coffee table sat before it on squat legs. There was a music center on a table to the side, and a large-screen television hung on the wall next to the door.
“What would you like to drink?”
“I think it’s here already,” he said, pointing to the bar in the corner, and he was right. Platters of shrimp and fresh cheeses and fruit flanked a bottle of scotch and a bucket of ice. A vase of crimson roses perfumed the air. A creeping suspicion hit me, and I whirled around to face him.
“What would you have done if I said no?”
He crossed over to the sofa and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “I would have had to persuade you.” With casual grace, he sank into the sofa and unknotted his tie while my insides did a flip and I struggled to maintain control. “Pour me a drink, please, and come sit down.”
“What’s your name?” I asked, staying where I was.
“May I have that drink?”
I added some ice to the cut-glass tumbler, poured him the scotch, and brought it over to him. “Why don’t you want me to know your name? I’ll tell you mine.”
“I already know.”
