Page 34 of Worth the Risk

“I’M NOT GOING,” BELLAannounced. Not bothering to greet Dan when she opened the door to his knock at seven straight up. Right on time, as usual.

He didn’t wait for her to invite him in; he just entered.

“Let me guess. Nothing to wear?”

“How did you...” she trailed off when he produced a Nordstrom’s bag.

“I helped you pack, Bella. I knew you didn’t have club wear.” He pulled out a handful of purple silk so deep it could pass for black and held up a chemise by the thin straps. It was simple, tasteful, and, the best part, it would cover everything. Mostly, she tacked on upon closer look, because of the low-cut draped neckline and the lace inserts up the sides.

“It’s lovely, Dan. Thank you.”

“Try it on.” When he set down the bag, her eyes followed. She couldn’t help but wonder, and hope, if there was anything else inside like a key piece of clothing.

“Yes, there are panties,” he said, reading her mind.

Once again, his hand dipped inside and came out holding more purple silk, this time the tiniest bit of it because the panties were a G-string, emphasis on string.

He held them out to her with a warning. “Don’t get used to ’em though.”

She swallowed hard, wondering how she’d serve drinks to people who’d seen her running around without panties on.

“There will be plenty of others wearing a lot less.”

Her wide-eyed gaze shot to his.

“You have a very expressive face,” he explained, smiling, then urged, “Go get changed.”

“I’ve got shoes to match, believe it or not,” she told him as she darted up the stairs.

Over the thud of her footsteps on the hardwood, she was sure he said, “Don’t get used to those, either.”

When they arrived at the club a half hour later, she didn’t enter through the employee entrance in back. Dan parked out front and took her through the main entrance with the other members.

“Is this a special occasion?” she asked, as he checked them in at the lobby counter.

He sent her a questioning look. “Do you mean other than your first time in the members’ area?”

“Dano, old man,” a deep booming voice called from behind them. They both turned, Dan grinning and Bella gaping at a man who could be Lil T’s twin. She knew he couldn’t be, though, from the silver strands at his temples and because the woman at his side wasn’t Angie.

“Let me introduce you to another of the owners, Bella. This is Tony Rossi.”

She greeted them like she did guests in the lounge, with a smile, a head bob, and addressing him as sir.

“I’ve met Masters Sean and Dex, and the other Tony. How many owners are there?”

“Six,” the big handsome Lil T lookalike replied. His grin would have been contagious, but his obvious Italian heritage reminded her too much of her “cousins” who were Lorenzo’s muscle, especially Rudolpho who was as tall, as broad, with the same deep brown eyes.

“It’s seven now, captain,” the curvy blonde on his arm, dressed in a killer white corset with black piping, corrected. “Master Peter has retired and embraced his ownership, remember?”

“That’s right. Pete has finally stowed the shroud of secrecy in the closet where it belongs.”

“This is Tony’s submissive, Megan,” Dan explained. “She’s also his wife and the owner of a bakery in town where you can get the world’s best chocolate eclairs and coffee that surpasses Starbucks.”

“He has to say that,” she told Bella with a grin. “He’s a regular and, if he didn’t sing my praises, I might forget to order the amoretto cream for the lattes he seems to need every morning to survive.”

“You wouldn’t be so cruel,” Dan exclaimed, to which Tony uttered with a chuckle, “So says the sadist.”

“I’m teasing, of course,” Megan said, extending her hand to Bella. “Haven’t I seen you working in the lounge?”