Patricia Rosemoor - Skin

He was at her side in a second. “Not fast enough, chica . Maybe you want me to catch you.”

“You think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

“If I don’t, who’s gonna?”

An attitude Hannah respected. Still, she wasn’t about to hook up with some guy just for the fun of it. No percentage in that. People she cared about never stuck around for long.

“Listen, I’m not available,” she told him. “Really.”

Though part of her was glad when he dropped back, saying, “Your loss,” another part was disappointed that he didn’t try harder.

No one ever fought for her.

Not even her sister.

Lilith had been the lucky one, Hannah thought. She didn’t know anything about what could happen to a girl on the street. She had no idea of the things she’d had to do just to eat or what it took to pull herself up from that gutter.

Hannah knew.

And even though things were good for her now, even though she liked her life, she couldn’t help hating the people who had made her go through hell to get here.

All of them, including Lilith.

“THE USUAL,” Michael told Joe when he entered the Club Paradise bar.

“You got it,” Joe returned.

“Hey, good looking, wanna dance?”

He stared at the blonde whose breast implants bulged from a skimpy top and wondered how many lap dances she had done, wondered how many tricks she’d turned. Was it really worth the money? he wondered.

“Not tonight,” he said.

“Your loss.”

She swept by him slowly, rubbing up against his arm, letting him catch the thick scent of her perfume.

He turned to pick up his beer off the bar.

He wasn’t interested in the blonde in anything but a clinical way, the same as he was in most of the women who danced here. Probably most of them came from at-risk backgrounds. He was always looking for answers, but the more he pushed, the less he understood.

Out of nowhere, her image flashed in his mind. The conservatively dressed customer he’d met in here and had rescued from that creep. She’d been troubled. By the place. By the customers. By him. So why the hell had she been here? A woman alone. Not a working girl, of that he was certain. A woman looking for a girlfriend? He doubted that, too. What, then?

Something about her…

He shook the image away, tried to concentrate on the stage, but it was impossible until the one who called herself Anna Youngheart danced.

He studied her. And the men who watched her.

Something about her… something different…

The difference was subtle, but he didn’t miss it. She wasn’t quite herself tonight. She seemed distracted. Hiding emotion. Anger? Discontent of some sort rolled from her over him in waves.

His antennae went on alert.

Now here was something interesting.

Maybe she would open up to the camera, tell him what he needed to know to finally put the past behind him.

HAVING FINISHED her set, Hannah plopped herself down at an empty table and looked around for a fat fish. A moment later, Gabe O’Malley slid into the chair to one side, and she rubbed her leg along his.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said with a wink. “What can I get you for.”

“You know I only drink champagne.”

“An expensive girl with expensive tastes.”

Yes, she was. Why should she settle for less? Why should she even be thinking about it? Lilith. Her holier-than-thou sister disapproved. Well, tough.

“Want to take me somewhere nice for a late-night supper?” she asked Gabe.

“Not tonight. I have some things I need to take care of.”

“You’re a busy man.”

Yeah, right, Hannah thought, keeping her smile plastered to her lips. That’s why he spent his evenings here at the club. Because he was so busy.

“I’ll just have to find another escort, then.”

“Your time is coming, darlin’.” Gabe gave her a slow and sexy grin. “One of these days I’ll have time enough to give you everything you deserve.”

Why did that sound like a threat?

Telling herself she was being ridiculous, that Gabe had shown her a good time before without any roughhousing, Hannah widened her smile as she thought about how she would do him next time they got together. How she would make sure he would never seek out any dancer but her. She could probably manage it right now if she set her mind to it. She just didn’t feel like expending the energy.

Instead, she looked around for a replacement. Paul wasn’t around tonight, but Michael Wyndham was. The way Mr. Mysterious was looking at her would make a girl think he might be interested.

Undulating her way toward him, she licked her lips the way men liked. She stepped in front of him, raised her arms and fussed with her hair, watching through slitted eyes, expecting him to be mesmerized by her breasts.

His gaze locked with hers, and his lips curled into a smile. He simply seemed amused.

“What can I do for you, Miss Youngheart?”

“Maybe it’s what I can do for you.”

“I’m not interested in a lap dance.”

“What does interest you?”

“Whatever it is you have on your mind. Are you free later?”

Hannah’s heart pounded. He had an edge to him she couldn’t quite read. She sensed he could be dangerous. Lilith’s dire warnings messed with her mind for a minute. All the more reason to hook up with him.

“I’m not free,” she said, “but I am available.”

“What time?”

“How about midnight?”

“Midnight it is. Shall I meet you out front?”

“The stage door on the alley would be better.”

“Then it’s a date.”

A date. That was a laugh. He figured he could fuck her was all. Maybe she’d let him. If he spent enough money on her, she might even let him do anything he wanted.

And then maybe she would rub it in Lilith’s face.

She rushed back into the dressing room and stripped off her costume, then pulled on her clothes and began removing makeup.

Caresse came in and stared. “What’s your hurry, honey? Got a hot date?”

“Give the lady her prize.”

“With one of them jerks?”

“They’re not all jerks,” Hannah protested, thinking Caresse sounded as disapproving as Lilith. “This one isn’t, anyhow.”

“Then what is he?” Caresse threw herself before the mirror and started removing her own makeup.

“Call him a student of human nature.”

“Well, don’t let him study you too hard. It could be dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Like Rosie Harriman could? And that working girl who was murdered a few weeks back?”

Shaking off the creepy feeling, Hannah muttered, “A coincidence is all.”

“Don’t you believe it. We gotta take care of ourselves, child, ‘cause no one else is gonna. So you be careful out there, hear?”

Already waltzing out the doorway, Hannah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Dr. Caresse.”

“I’m tellin’ you!” the other dancer called after her.

There was nothing to worry about, Hannah thought as she flew out the stage door. She could take care of herself. Michael Wyndham was leaning against a light post on the other side of the alley, his gaze focused on her as she left the club.

“My car or yours?” she asked, cutting across the alley toward him.

“Let me lead you into temptation.” He held out his arm.

From the corner of her eye, Hannah thought she caught a movement in the shadows, but when she turned and stared, nothing was amiss.

Her imagination.

She took Michael’s arm and let him lead her off.

SHAKING WITH FURY, Paul Ensdorf stepped out of the shadows and watched the vehicle speed away.