Page 8 of Wanted
Her long blonde hair swung from side to side, brushing suggestively across her back. The need to have her turn around so he could see the rest of her was so strong that he almost called her name. The only thing that stopped him was his clenched throat.
“Good God.”
The music faded away too soon, and he took an unconscious step forward when she looked over her shoulder and threw the audience a wink. Wolf whistles permeated the air, and the noise broke him from his trance. Still, he watched as she strutted off the stage and disappeared behind the curtain.
The case. He had to keep in mind why he was here.
A hard smile pressed at his lips when he remembered their discussion from a few nights ago. Tonight. Tonight, he had her.
With purpose, he made his way to the bar. After a moment, he got the bartender’s attention. He waved the guy over and slapped a hundred-dollar bill onto the counter. “I’d like to make a special request.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Dani stood outside the door leading to a private back room. A three-hundred-pound bouncer stood quietly nearby, waiting for her to gather her nerve. She looked at him and pressed a hand against her stomach to try to stop the butterflies.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
She smiled at him weakly.
She really didn’t know if she could do this. Dancing on stage was one thing, but did she have the guts to put on a private show?
She still couldn’t believe that she was stripping for a living. It had all happened so fast. She’d started waitressing out front. That decision alone had been a big one, but simple economics had taken the decision out of her hands. She’d known that she’d make better tips at the strip club than at the diner down the street.
Still, her waitressing job had only lasted for about three hours. She’d been ready to quit when the manager had pulled her aside and asked her if she’d consider filling in for a dancer who’d called in sick. At the time, she'd wanted so badly to get away from the bar floor that she’d said yes without really thinking about it. The thought of getting up on stage had been daunting, but it had to be better than waiting on tables. Dancers made more money and were further away from wandering hands.
“This is just one more step,” she told herself quietly. “You managed to do that. You can do this.”
It hadn’t been easy, though. She’d only received a few bits of advice from the other girls before she’d been thrust upon the stage. Once there, she’d frozen like a deer in the headlights. Every eye in the room had been on her, and the hoots and whistles had been deafening. Pure fear had made her turn to run, but something inside her had made her stop.
She was tired of hiding.
Experimentally, she’d started moving her hips to the beat of the music. The roar inside the club had gotten louder. Slowly, she’d begun to take off her clothes. With every piece of material that hit the floor, her crowd’s appreciation had increased.
It had been such a freeing experience. For months, she’d felt trapped. The FBI had been tracking her down, ruining her life, and making her live in the shadows. On stage, she’d been out in the open. For the first time in a long time, she’d been in control. She’d held the attention of a roomful of men in the palm of her hand and, with a twitch of her hips, could have had them all begging.
But as much as they wanted her, they couldn’t have her.
It was like the game she was playing with Reno. He could chase her all he wanted, but he couldn’t catch her. Like him, they could look, but they couldn’t touch.
“Neither can this guy,” she whispered. “You can drive him crazy, but he can’t do anything about it.”
Her belly clenched, and she looked at the closed door.
Could she do this?
Apparently, her last dance had inspired some guy from the audience to request a one-on-one show—a lap dance, to be precise. She’d had to ask what that was. When she’d found out, she’d blushed hot, but not totally in embarrassment. Secretly, she’d been curious… and a little excited about the prospect. She knew that as long as he wasn’t allowed to touch her, she could let herself enjoy it.
It and the extra money it would put into her pocket. Money she needed for a new car so she could blend into anonymity again.
With a deep breath, she nodded to the bouncer. He opened the door, and she walked into the room. The lights were off, but when she reached for the switch, the bouncer stopped her.
“He paid extra for you to keep it dark.”
Her eyebrows rose as she considered the request. Shy? Or maybe he didn’t want people in town knowing? Hesitantly, she turned around to look across the room. Her client was already sitting in the chair. She could see his boots and jeans in the dim light. Moonlight slanted across the room from the window above his shoulder, but she couldn’t see his face. That suited her just fine.
With a nod, she shut the door and waited for her eyes to adjust. Soon, she realized that the moonlight was enough. The shadowy haze was cool and seductive. The indistinguishable figure remained silent, and a little thrill shot through her.
With his face hidden in darkness, he could be anybody.
