Private Dancer. Kimberly Dean

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СКАЧАТЬ expected him to say, ‘Not that kind of dancing’. But he hadn’t.

      His tone had been so cutting, so disparaging. Had her dancing been an embarrassment to him? Was he really condemning expression through all movement of the female body?

      ‘That’s a shame,’ Crowe said. ‘I heard she was very good.’

      ‘Don’t you miss it?’ Hunt said quietly.

      They were the first words the big man had spoken and, like his gaze, they were directed at her. The question was so unexpected; Alicia didn’t know what to say. She did miss dancing. She missed it desperately.

      ‘Don’t you miss the music flowing through your veins?’ Crowe asked, double-teaming her. ‘The rhythm beating in your chest? The passion pulsing?’

      The hot knot inside her lodged directly between her legs, and she could feel it throbbing.

      Had these two seen her get caught up in her fantasy?

      He’d made it sound so basic, so elemental, so … so carnal. She licked her lips and her skin heated in discomfort. She’d never considered it sexual before, but she did miss the way dancing made her feel. Strong, in control and desired. She’d loved becoming one with the music, letting it enter her, thrill her and soothe her. She craved to put her body through the exertion again, to feel her muscles straining and air stroking over her skin as she moved.

      Her nerve-endings tingled.

      Had her dancing been about more than she’d known? She’d loved the attention of the crowd. She’d savoured their eyes upon her as she’d revealed her innermost self.

      ‘My club and patrons appreciate our dancers,’ Crowe said. ‘The Satin Club values women.’

      ‘You objectify them,’ her father said.

      ‘We empower them. I’d be happy to give you a tour of the place anytime so you can see for yourself.’

      Alicia’s gaze flicked up reflexively, only Crowe wasn’t looking at her.

      ‘Anytime.’

      The word was practically whispered in her ear. Remy Hunt was.

      ‘Come see our stage,’ Crowe offered. ‘We have more than poles. Our dancers pride themselves on their routines. We allow expression that the strip clubs you lump us in with do not. Hell, one of our most popular performers never takes off a piece of clothing.’

      ‘Hell is right,’ her father snarled. ‘Hell and damnation. We will not set foot inside that viper pit.’

      ‘Yet you’ll judge it.’

      ‘We’ll fight the devil wherever we find him.’

      But had they? None of them really knew what went on inside that building, Alicia thought. Shouldn’t they learn more before they cast the first stone?

      Crowe’s words had struck a chord within her. He’d verbalised her feelings in a way she’d never been able to. This man knew the heart of a dancer and he allowed grown women to do what they loved for a living.

      Was that so wrong?

      ‘So be it,’ he said. His eyes were still hidden, but the chill radiating from him told that they’d gone cold.

      As if on cue, a police car crept into view behind them, parking along the curb. Seeing that he had backup, the Satin Club’s owner stepped away and wiped his hands.

      Of them? Of the possibility of working towards a truce?

      ‘When any of you are willing to have an adult discourse about this, let me know.’

      This time Alicia knew his gaze was on her. She was the only one who’d tried to keep the discussion polite and open.

      ‘My offer stands,’ the enigmatic man said before turning and walking away.

      A sandy-haired cop passed him, coming towards them. His ticket pad was already out and he was frowning at the size of the speakers that were perched in the back of Paul’s pick-up truck. It was clear that he’d been called about the noise. If only they’d listened when Crowe had warned them.

      ‘So does mine,’ Hunt said quietly.

      Alicia shivered when the words were practically whispered in her ear. When she glanced up, she found the man’s gaze settled suggestively on her hand. She realised that the microphone was snuggled into her palm, and her thumb was worrying the shiny knob atop it. Round and round, the pad of her thumb went. Over and across. Flicking against the edges.

      She dropped the microphone like a hot potato and Remy Hunt chuckled as he walked away, leaving her flustered.

      Alicia looked around worriedly, but her group’s attention was on the police officer now.

      She let out a shaky breath and eased the vice-like hold she still had on her sign. She felt like she’d just escaped danger – or more precisely, that it had just let her go.

      She knew about the devil and the temptations it put in good people’s paths. She’d listened to the sermons and read the texts herself. She forced herself to take another step back, only to bump into the tree behind her. The rough bark bit into her shoulders and buttocks as she watched the two black panthers glide away, their strides masculine and confident. Temptations were dark, attractive and hard to ignore.

      Her gaze dropped to the microphone that sat propped up suggestively in the grass.

      She’d just never realised how sharply temptation could bite. Or how strongly curiosity would pull.

      Chapter Two

      She shouldn’t be here.

      Alicia knew that. She stopped even as her fingers wrapped around the knob on the door to the Satin Club.

      This was a mistake in the making.

      For a moment, she stood still, just staring at the red wooden door. When she crossed its threshold, would she be crossing the line? Or would she be broaching the divide?

      It had been over a week now since the stand-off between Sebastian Crowe and her father, but things hadn’t got any better. What had been tension between the two groups before had stretched to a high-wire level of strain. She was afraid that something would soon pop and she’d be left to clean up the pieces. Wasn’t it smarter to stem off the problems now? To try to reach a compromise before things spiralled out of control?

      Deep down, she believed that it was.

      Only she knew she wasn’t the one who should be knocking on the door to the lion’s den.

      Her fingers turned slippery.

      Nobody knew she was here. Sunlight’s protesters had left soon after rush hour traffic, and the day was at that lingering stage between sunshine and darkness. She glanced back to her car, knowing she should hop into it and drive away before the night came out to play. But now was the perfect time to accept Crowe’s СКАЧАТЬ