Jo Leigh - One-Click Buy - September Harlequin Blaze

Bernie was waiting at the back door. “Hiya, Rose,” he said without a smile. Obviously the mood around here was still dour.

“Hi. Harry around?”

He shook his head. “He hasn’t been here much.” Shaking his head, he added, “Wish he’d just ditch that witch and get back to work, this club ain’t gonna run itself.”

Izzie didn’t say anything. She honestly didn’t want to think about what she’d do in her boss’s situation. He was a man who loved his wife…warts and all. Should he be faulted for that? Maybe. But it wasn’t her place to judge.

The dressing rooms and greenroom were pretty quiet for a Saturday night, any chatter between the dancers was going on quietly. Just as well. Izzie didn’t feel very social. There was only one person she wanted to see…only, she didn’t know what on earth she’d say to him when she did.

I miss you. I love you. Please love me as I am and let’s work it out.

All of the above.

He never appeared. She didn’t see him downstairs, and he certainly didn’t come to her dressing room. Izzie went through the motions getting ready, tense and anxious…but for nothing.

By the time she was ready to go on, she was seriously wondering if she’d made a mistake in coming in at all. Her heart was not in it. Not tonight. “The show must go on,” she reminded herself as she walked upstairs and took her place backstage.

She’d like to think she gave her audience her all, but as she began removing her rose petals in time to the music, she knew her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart was in little pieces, scattered around Nick Santori’s feet. Wherever he may be.

Usually, Izzie ignored the audience as she performed-it was part of her “mysterious appeal” as Harry had described it right after she’d started working here. And he’d been right.

Tonight, however, something caught her attention. Rather, someone. Normally, all were still when she performed-including the waitresses. But now, someone was walking from the back of the room straight down the center aisle toward the stage.

It was a man. A dark-haired, dark-eyed man.

A familiar dark-haired, dark-eyed man.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, stumbling a little.

Because it was Nick. A Nick like she’d never seen before.

Though he wore his typical on-the-job tough-guy uniform of black pants and tight black T-shirt, he was carrying a bouquet of roses. A huge bouquet of them. He was also smiling, his eyes locked on her, apparently not caring that she was dancing nearly naked on stage in front of a bunch of strange men.

And for the first time in her entire dancing career, Izzie did something entirely unprofessional. She committed the cardinal sin. She stopped right in the middle of her number.

“Nick,” she whispered.

He had reached the edge of the low stage, which was about as high as his mid-thigh and was staring up at her. The look in his eyes…oh, God, that look. He was smiling broadly, adoring her with his gaze.

He not only looked approving, he looked absolutely enraptured. “Hi, Izzie,” he said, his voice low, intimate, just for the two of them.

The music slowly faded away into silence. The audience began to murmur. One man yelled something like “Down in front,” but he was shouted down by several others who obviously wanted to see what would happen next.

She’d like to know that herself.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Uh…what are you doing?”

His smile widened. “Watching you.”

“I noticed.”

“You’re wonderful.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “Thank you.”

“I could watch you dance every night and be a happy man.”

“Who couldn’t?” someone from a nearby table called.

Nick never even glanced over, not distracted. Instead, he lifted the bouquet and offered it to her. Izzie took it, bringing the flowers up to her masked face and sniffing the heady fragrance permeating the red blooms. “They’re beautiful.”

“I figured roses were your flower.”

“Good call.” Laughing a little, she asked, “Is there some reason you gave them to me here? And right now?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know how proud I am of you and how much I love seeing you dance. No matter who else is here.”

He’d said it. He’d put it into words. Exactly what she needed to hear. “Oh, Nick, really?”

He nodded. “Really. I have more to say. But not here.” He glanced over his shoulder at all the men leering at them. “Some things were not meant to do in front of an audience.” Then he looked back up at her. “And the next thing I want to say to you can’t be said when you’re wearing that mask on your face.”

She shivered, anticipation rolling through her. Oh, how she hoped she knew what it was he wanted to say to her. That it involved talk of a future. And a lot of uses of the word love.

“I’ll meet you downstairs in two-and-a-half minutes,” he said. “I’ve timed your song…that’s how much you have left.”

“You’re on,” she said with a broad smile as she clutched the flowers close to her body and slowly backed away from the edge of the stage. She put the flowers down right in front of the curtain, where she could easily retrieve them.

Nick turned around and walked back the way he’d come. From where Izzie stood, she could see every man in the place turn to watch him go. Most were regulars who had to have recognized him. And probably all of them wanted to know exactly what he’d said to her…and what he meant to her.

That was easy to explain. Everything.

Nodding toward the crew member on the side of the stage, Izzie waited for her song to resume. Now she danced joyfully, the way she hadn’t in a very long time. And she smiled during every moment of it.

As soon as the last notes of the music played, Izzie grabbed her flowers and darted toward the wings, pausing only long enough to stick her arms in her robe before tearing toward the staircase. She took the cement stairs two at a time, almost stumbling. But even if she had, it would have been okay. Because Nick was waiting at the bottom of them, staring up at her.

He would have caught her. She knew that, from now on, he would be there to catch her.

“Come on,” he murmured, taking her hand. He twined her fingers in his, then lifted them to his mouth to press a soft kiss on them. “Let’s talk privately.”

She followed him, easing against his body, her curves fitting perfectly in his angles, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle. When they reached her dressing room, Nick opened the door and held it for her, then followed her inside.

“Thank you again for the roses,” she murmured as she put them on the makeup-strewn counter. They’d already begun filling the room with their heady perfume and she inhaled of it deeply.

“You’re welcome.” He immediately added, “You were right.”

“About?”

“Everything,” he admitted evenly, making no effort to hedge or share blame for what had happened between them. Even though Izzie knew she bore some of the responsibility.

“We both…”

“No, Iz, let me finish, please. You were right to accuse me of living the same double life I’d accused you of. You had legitimate reasons, with your father’s health and your, uh…”

“Being a stripper?”

He grinned. “Yeah. That.”

“I told Gloria and Mia.”

His eyes widened. “Really? How’d they react?”

“Better than I expected.” Much better. But she’d fill him in on that later. “It’s a first step, anyway.”

“I know. I made that same step. I told my father and Tony that I wasn’t interested in the business. And what I am interested in doing.”

“Being a bodyguard?”

For the first time since he’d walked up to her during her dance, Nick looked a little hesitant. He glanced to the side, and scrunched his brow. “Well…not exactly.”