Masquerade (7 page)

“Doesn’t
seem like there needs to be any mystery.”

Anthony rose, but before
coming to a complete stand, he leaned in until she could smell the coffee on
his breath. He stared at her lips for a moment before whispering in her ear.

“I’ve never seen anyone
look as sexy as you do in this—” he put his finger underneath her bra strap and
followed it down to where it met her cups, “—outfit.”

Every ounce of anger
disappeared as Beth’s body answered the simple touch. She arched, unable to
deny the need for his touch. She wanted more.

“Not even Holly?” She
breathed the question.

“Certainly
not Holly.
She’s got a very jealous boyfriend.”

Beth stifled her elation,
then
forgot all about it as Anthony’s hand stayed at
the juncture between strap and bra and he kissed her cheek.
Just
a light, feathery touch.

She tossed caution into
the locker behind her and turned into his kiss. Their mouths met, and light
became hard need as reason lost the battle of wits versus desire. Beth dug her
hands in his hair and felt herself lowered to the bench. His tongue touched her,
and she opened gladly to him. He invaded her mouth, searching out the far
corners, their tongues mingling in shared need. Beth welcomed him, welcomed
sensations
she’d
given up ever feeling again as they
invaded her senses.

She rose to him, molding her
mouth to his and her hands drifted over muscles that rippled under her touch, making
her bold. She wound her hands around Anthony’s back, pulling him in tighter, needing
the contact.

His lips left a searing
trail across her chin, down the side of her neck to that most sensitive hollow
at the base of her throat. When his hand settled on the underside of her breast,
Beth arched, letting desire pent up for years out with a sigh as if her entire
body screamed “finally!”

Anthony froze,
then
pushed off the bench to stand, backing away from Beth. Confused,
she watched him. The bulge in his pants said he wanted her, so why did he stop?

“We can’t do this,” he
said with shaky breath. “Remember?”

Beth sat up slowly,
trying to equate the lust boiling in her blood with a logic she
couldn’t
fathom.

“Because
of some stupid rule of Sally’s?
It’s just a job, Anthony.” Beth hated
the pleading in her voice but
couldn’t
help herself.

“There’s too much at
stake here to screw this up.”

“What?
What’s
at stake?
Your job?
It’s got
to be more than that.
Masquerade?
Do you have some
sort of stake in the club?”

The thought hit Beth
square in the heart and stole any lingering passion.
It
was
the club he was worried about
.
The club mattered more to him than she did. Granted, they barely knew each
other.
But
she’d thought they had a connection.
She’d
thought he might be the one.

Stupid
girl.
That was the problem.
She’d
thought. Beth
rose from the bench, her body weighed down by reality. “It’s nice to know I’m
not worth the trouble.”

“It’s got nothing to do
with how I feel about you.” He took a step toward her, but Beth held up her
hand.

Anthony raked his fingers
through his hair. “Don’t you know how beautiful, how desirable you are?” He
clenched his hands into tighter fists. “Shit, Beth, cover
yourself
up. This is hard enough without having your nipple pointing to me like a fucking
beacon. I’m barely holding on as it is.”

Beth’s face flamed as she
glanced down. One side of her costume
was folded in and
rested underneath a nipple pebbled with anticipation
. She whirled,
covered herself, and grabbed her purse and clothes.

As she passed Anthony,
she paused. “You’re not holding on to anything. Not anymore.” Then she ran out
of Masquerade, vowing to have her friend wire the money for a ticket and head
home as fast as she could.

Halfway to the loft, the
night began to mellow Beth’s ire. Heat and humidity had faded to a comfortable
temperature, the kind that drew people outside, except that it was three in the
morning.

And
dark.
Very dark.

Beth
wasn’t
at home in the small community she’d grown to love.
A place
where you could go anywhere, anytime.
She stopped mid-stride as her
rusty street smarts kicked in and her neck started to tingle with all sorts of
dread. Did she hear footsteps behind her? A glance over her shoulder showed an
empty street, but the fine hairs on the back of her neck
weren’t
listening.

Rubbing her neck, Beth
worked hard to ignore the echo behind her, but the sense of unease stayed with
her as she started walking again.

After another block,
she’d
convinced herself they weren’t echoes. She turned the
next corner,
then
flattened herself against the wall, one
of her unworn stilettos held up like a weapon.

Someone was coming. She
raised the shoe higher, ready to strike, just as a hooded man rounded the
corner. She swung the shoe, hearing a very satisfied smack and an “oof” as it
connected with the man’s head. Not willing to give him a chance to regroup,
Beth took off at a run and
didn’t
stop until she was
safely inside her building.

Collapsing against the
wall, she struggled to catch her breath and still her raging heartbeat.
So much for her regular jogging.
Fear was a much better
cardiac workout.

Once she double-checked
the locks, she slumped against the door, giving her heart time to slow to a
more normal pace. It took a while as she kept wondering how close she’d come to
seeing the bad side of the city up close and personal. Eventually, though, the exhaustion
of the day muddled her brain. Having hardly slept the night before,
she’d
spent most of today—yesterday—anxious and worried. Beth
left her shoes by the door, her skirt on the floor of the living room, and
hooked her bra on the bedroom doorknob. Then she crawled into bed and waited
for sweet oblivion take her away.

Except her body still hummed
with the aftereffects of Anthony’s kisses and the feel of his hands, like
a low
-voltage electricity keeping her from turning things
off, keeping her turned on, amped up, and ready for sex. Beth pounded the
pillow, willing the ravenous hunger raging through her to die. Twice, she slid
into her own wet folds, only to remember it
wouldn’t
help. Beth lay there for a long time in the dark before her mind finally overruled
her body and she drifted off to sleep.

****

Outside Beth’s apartment,
Anthony watched as the lights extinguished and the place went dark. Even after
that, he stayed, feeling like the worst kind of heel.
He’d
made out with her like a teenager unable to rein in his libido, then stopped
without an explanation.

After
she’d
run out, worry had sent him after her. This was
Chicago
. You
didn’t
go running around at night by yourself. Especially if you were as young and
desirable as Beth was.
He’d
thought to keep her safe,
but even that plan tanked—big time.

Anthony massaged his
tender head, checked his hand yet again, certain it
would be
covered
in blood. It
wasn’t
, but should be. His
skull felt split right down the center by that dagger of a high-heel
she’d
thumped him with.

Shit. All
he’d
wanted to do was recapture something that he’d never
been able to forget.
And
all he seemed to be capable
of was screwing it all up. That damn contract was going to kill him.
He’d
been a fool to give Sally that much power. Anthony
wanted more than anything to come clean and tell Beth
everything
.
But
he couldn’t yet. Not while he still worked at
Masquerade. He stood to lose everything if he
didn’t
keep his dick in his pants.

He also
couldn’t
seem to stay away from her. That
hadn’t
changed in the several years since they’d been apart.
And
that attraction had caused the demise of his marriage. Anthony walked back to
the club with the slow, measured step of a man
being led
to the gallows, feeling the weight of two botched relationships laid heavily on
his shoulders.

Chapter Eight

The next evening, Beth
arrived at Masquerade with a
whole
new layer of
trepidation that kept her from pushing through the doors. She’d run out on Anthony
after one of the hottest make-out sessions she’d ever been involved in.
And
Anthony may or may not be her boss. On top of all that,
she’d
spent all day wearing kill-me-now stilettos and wasn’t
sure her calves could take another six hours in them. Thankfully,
she’d
only fallen twice due to the death heels.

She felt, more than
heard, someone behind her and turned to see a once again masked Anthony standing
there.

“Really?
You’re wearing your mask before even entering the club?”

He
grinned as he touched the black satin around his eyes. “I kind of like it. Makes
me look sexy, don’t you think?”

The man would look sexy
in anything…or nothing. Beth gulped, remembering how
they’d
left things last night. Then she flooded with heat at the encounter. If she
intended to see this thing through, she knew she needed to set things straight
with him.

“I need to apologize.”

Anthony rubbed his head
and winced.
“For what?”

“For last
night.
I mean, for, um, running out on you.” She took a step toward him,
but he backed up.

“Uh uh.
I think
we’ve
proven that getting too close is
dangerous. You stay put.
And
you’ve got nothing to be
sorry for. I took advantage of the situation and shouldn’t have.”

“Are you part owner of
Masquerade?”

He hesitated before
answering. “I have a stake in this endeavor.”

Beth was mortified as she
realized
she’d
tried to seduce the boss, but he beat
her to another apology. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. I won’t let it
happen again.”

Keen disappointment
filled Beth’s heart and her entire body sighed.
She’d
felt more sensual emotion last night than she could ever remember. After two
days,
there’d
been not one hint of how her mysterious
benefactor was going to fulfill her wish. The only person she felt an
attraction for, she
couldn’t
have.

“Ready
for work?”
Anthony held the door open for her. Beth recognized that, in
order to find out what the plan was,
she’d
have to
stick it out for at least one more night. With one last glance into blue eyes
that could never be hers, she walked into the club.

An hour into her shift, Sally
pulled her aside. “One of the dancers is sick. You’ll have to take her place
tonight.”

“Oooh,
no.
Not me.”

“You’re the only one who
can.”

“Uh uh.
You’ve got three other girls working the floor right now.” Beth pointed one
out.

“Flat feet,” Sally said.

Beth’s
outstretched finger moved to another girl.

“No rhythm.”

And
finally
, she lit on Holly.

“Pregnant.”

That surprised Beth and
she smiled for a moment.
She’d
grown to like Holly in
the short time they’d worked together.
But
no way
would she get up on that stage for anyone. “Seriously, Sally. You don’t even
know I can dance.”

“You’re going to have to
try.”

“No. Absolutely not,”
Beth said.

Sally crossed her arms
over her ample bosom, pushing her girls up until Beth thought they might spill
out over the top. “You know, one of the barmaids saw you leave last night.”

Beth’s eyes widened as
warmth began to creep up her chest.
Shit.

“Said
you were getting it on pretty heavy with one of the bartenders.”

The flush reached her
neck and went up about ten degrees.

“We’ve got rules around
here. You remember ‘em, right?”

Beth gulped and nodded
her head, her cheeks flaming now.

“Anthony, now he’s got
some money riding on things.” Sally eyed her.
“A lot of
money.
He gets caught messing around with one of the girls, he could
lose it all.”

Afraid now to even
breathe, Beth knew Sally had just stalked her into an inescapable corner.

“So, you want to let last
night be forgotten, you’ll get on that stage. In one hour.”

Sally
didn’t
wait for an answer, but turned on her heel and left Beth standing there with nothing
except shattered nerves. She
couldn’t
let Anthony go
down for something she’d done. Well,
they’d
both done
it, but she’d wanted it.
Big time.

Beth slumped onto a
chair, not caring if any patrons saw her. She, who had never danced in public
before unless it was with fifty other people on a dance floor, was going to get
up on that stage and do a solo act in a skimpy uniform she’d barely gotten used
to.

The next hour was just
about the worst in Beth’s life. She messed up two orders and dropped an entire
tray of drinks. Holly helped her clean it up.