Strip or Treat

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Strip or Treat ISBN 9781419914713 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Strip or Treat Copyright © 2008 Jana Mercy Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication October 2008 With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

STRIP OR TREAT Jana Mercy

Dedication To the 2003 RWA Golden Heart finalists and my fellow sisters at heart—the Wet Noodle Posse. Noodlers forever!

Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Alice in Wonderland: Disney Enterprises Armani: GA Modefine S.A. Joint Stock Company Barbie: Mattel, Inc. BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Cat Woman: DC Comics E.C. Publications, Inc. Coca-Cola: The Coca-Cola Company Corvette: General Motors Corporation Dior: Christian Dior Couture Ford: Ford Motor Company Glock: Glock Gesellschaft GQ: Advance Magazine Publishers, Inc. Holiday Inn: Six Continents Hotels, Inc. Jack Daniel’s: Jack Daniel’s Properties Jell-O: Kraft Food Holdings, Inc. Old Navy: Gap, Inc. Pop Rocks: Zeta Espacial S.A. Corporation Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands Wall Street Journal: Dow Jones, L P Corporation

Strip or Treat

Chapter One Gray Erickson leaned against the bar and watched the pirate on stage rip off his pants to a catchy Latin beat. Hordes of women squealed in delight as the Johnny Depp wannabe shook his assets. The stripper shimmied close enough for eager females to tuck various dead presidents into his thong. “I’ll have a light. Whatever you have on draft.” A buxom blonde waved a ten under Gray’s nose. Batting her mascara-caked lashes, she leaned forward, intentionally providing a view down her blouse and an eye-watering whiff of her heavy perfume. With a tight smile, he grabbed a cold mug and poured a drink for the lady. She licked her glossy red lips and eyed his bare chest with a hungry gleam. As if she’d like to gnaw her way through his bow tie and sink her teeth into his jugular. Or other sensitive body parts. He feigned another smile and slid the foaming beer in front of her. With a saucy wink, she stuck a folded bill down the front of his shorts. Her fingers lingered a bit too long and Gray clenched his jaw to restrain his sharp reply. He couldn’t afford to lose this job. Thank God Genevieve Walker, known by all as Madame G, hired him as a bartender. He hated to consider the lengths he’d go to, whatever it took to burst this investigation wide open. Fortunately, his looks and ability to mix one mean Midori Sour enticed the flamboyant club owner to hire him on the spot. She’d bought his down-on-his-luck lines and even offered the small, furnished apartment across the hallway from her extravagant one above the club. Too bad she lay in the hospital after suffering a stroke the previous week. He felt badly about her poor health but hoped his suspect’s untimely decline wouldn’t stagnate his case. All clues linked Heavenly Hunks to one of the largest organized drug rings in the middle Tennessee area. Gray scrutinized the loud, colorful female audience. Who would believe women behaved this way? No matter what the size, shape or age, the entire crowd had gone into estrogen overload. Old, young, short, tall, fat, skinny, scary—a tall, cool blonde caught his eye—to downright gorgeous. Sophia Walker. Madame G’s niece. She scanned the crowd and her aristocratic nose turned up ever so slightly, as if she shared his views on the other women’s antics. She stood at the back of the room, watching in apparent distaste as two women old enough to be her grandmothers joined the hip-grinding pirate on the stage.

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He guessed Sophia to be close to thirty. Her aura and attitude screamed old money and no-nonsense. She wore a designer dress that probably cost more than his pay for a week. It almost looked black except for when one of the colorful strobe lights danced over the deep purple material. Sleek nylons hugged her toned calves and disappeared beneath the skirt hemline flirting above shapely knees. Gray was a legs man. Always had been. What he could see of Sophia’s shamed Tina Turner at her best. Slowly, he traced the lines of her body. Lose the uptight clothes, let down her swept-up hair and she could easily qualify as every man’s fantasy come to life. Based upon his erotic dreams from the past few nights, he’d say she already qualified as his. He looked up and met her eyes. Wide lilac-colored eyes that seared straight through him like a hot knife slicing into a cold slab of butter. Gray swallowed the giantsized lump that formed in his throat but couldn’t do a thing about the one bulging in his shorts. He’d just have to stay hidden behind the bar until he got his hard-on under control. Damn, when had he responded like this to a woman? Not since he’d been a wetbehind-the-ears teenager contemplating his first lay. This case got a helluva lot more interesting the day Sophia barged into his living room and demanded to know who he was. Gray frowned. The case. Was Sophia involved in drug sales? It didn’t seem possible since the two women weren’t close and Sophia only showed on the scene after Madame G’s stroke. But he’d learned long ago one couldn’t be too careful. Lethal weapons and hard-nosed criminals sometimes came in deceivingly beautiful, tempting packages. Her gaze remained locked with his, as if she struggled to figure out the electric surges zinging back and forth between them. Good, because he struggled with that one too. She flicked her attention back toward the two naughty grannies sandwiching the stripper in a butt-bumping grind while they played with his plastic sword. Obsessing over a potential suspect spelled nothing but trouble. Then again, trouble was Gray’s specialty.

***** Ten minutes later Sophia Walker glared at the almost naked, muscle-bound creep eyeing her as if she wore a thong instead of her favorite Dior dress. Not the best outfit for hanging out in a Nashville strip club but her aunt insisted she attend each night’s strip show. Why not look good even if your insides roiled with nerves? Besides the clothes were part of her business arsenal as a criminal investigator for the Internal Revenue Service and boosted her comfort level. Given her current circumstances she needed all the boost she could get. “I’ve already told you,” she started over since the already overpaid stripper hadn’t caught her drift the first go-around. “There’s no money for a raise.”

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Ken Barnes’ beady eyes darkened. Serpent-like. “Then give me a bonus.” Oh, she’d like to give him something all right. Like a pink slip. The lead dancer slithered closer, completely blocking her path out of the cramped supply closet she’d stepped into under the pretense of checking supplies. She’d needed a moment to catch her breath because of the way a certain bartender sent her pulse through the roof. “I can’t do that.” She eyed the boxes stacked precariously against the wall. Could she knock them over on him and run for it? Of course, she’d probably choke on the stirred dust. She already suffocated on the grimy layer that covered everything. He visually undressed her once again and Sophia ground her teeth together to keep from losing her temper. The man was a snake. A low-down, belly-crawling snake. “Guess you’ll have to make staying worth my while.” Sophia scowled. He wasn’t suggesting… He grabbed her and pulled her against his oil-covered body, ruining her dress. Could this day get any worse? He attempted to cover her mouth with his. Oh yeah. It could definitely get worse. She wasn’t kissing snake man. Not even if she had to stand on the street corner to find another lead dancer for her aunt’s club. “Leave me alone.” She twisted her head and pushed against his slimy chest. His tropical scent overwhelmed the closet’s filth. “I’m not kissing you.” “You’re kidding?” His forehead furrowed as if he couldn’t believe she refused him. No wonder with the way women pawed him when he performed but Ken Barnes was a class A jerk. A jerk Aunt Genevieve, Madame G to most of the world, ordered Sophia to “pacify” by whatever means necessary. Did ramming one’s knee into someone’s groin count as pacification? Probably not. She sighed and tried for diplomacy one last time. “There’s someone else.” Until just a couple of weeks ago, there had been. In many ways her estranged aunt’s call had been a welcome excuse to leave Atlanta and her broken engagement to business icon, Nathanial Fleming. “Who?” Ken tightened his grasp on her upper arms. Gray Erickson’s dreamy silver eyes flashed before Sophia. It should have been Nate’s eyes haunting her daydreams. Then again, Nate had never haunted any of her dreams and therein laid the problem. Gray Erickson haunted. “No one you know.” An image of her and the club’s sexy bartender tangled in a lover’s embrace sent a heat wave cascading through her. Okay, so what red-blooded female wouldn’t be attracted to the brooding bartender? She blinked away the farfetched fantasy and focused on the all too real jerk looming over her. “Who says he has to know?” Ken’s predatory grin told her he wasn’t buying her lies. Or just didn’t care. She rolled her eyes. Snake man would think that way. “Look, I’m not interested.” She straightened to her full height of five-eight. “Until my aunt recovers from her stroke, I’m your boss and you will treat me with respect.”

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“If I don’t?” he leered, not looking in the slightest concerned, more amused than anything. “Then you’re fired.” Her aunt would probably have another stroke when Sophia explained that one. “You can’t fire me.” He puffed out his oil-slicked chest. “Strip or Treat is next weekend. I’m the star,” he bragged. “Without me, the show will bomb and this place will go under.” His evil glint left Sophia wondering just how much he knew about the club’s dire finances. She’d momentarily forgotten about the big Halloween bash. Unfortunately his threat was all too real. Still, she stood her ground. “No one’s irreplaceable.” She hoped that was true. Where did one even look to hire a stripper? Studs R Us? “I am.” He sneered and yanked her against him to grind a kiss to her lips. No way was she putting up with this crap from some greasy strip-club sleazebag. “That’s it!” She readied her knee to “pacify” his groin but he thrust her away. The hair on her neck prickled in that odd way it did every time Gray Erickson was near and she knew. Six-feet-two of dangerous male flesh filled the doorway. Had he watched her come into the closet? Watched Ken follow? Gray always seemed to be watching. For once, she was glad. “What the hell’s going on in here?” Gray’s deep baritone reverberated through the supply closet. “Mind your own business, Erickson,” Ken growled, facing Gray like a dog ready to attack. Sophia didn’t need a measuring stick to know who’d win this cockfight. She turned and met Gray’s steely gaze. The man had bad ass written all over him, from his jet-black hair to his smoke-colored eyes. From the moment she’d walked into his apartment last week and caught him, sweaty and sexy, in a raggedy pair of navy gym shorts and little else, Gray fascinated her. Instinctively, she stepped in his direction. “Sophia?” A muscle rippled on Gray’s solid bare chest when he held out his hand. She bit back a sigh of pure feminine appreciation. She sure couldn’t find fault in her aunt’s choice of uniform. A sexy black bowtie fit snugly around his thick neck. Tight black silky shorts outlined his hips and manly bulges to perfection. Unless he was a sock stuffer, Gray Erickson could rock a woman’s world. Big-time. Sophia gulped, not believing she ogled Gray’s crotch when moments before Ken had attempted to slither his tongue down her throat. Plus, she was a woman on the rebound. Now was not the time to be thinking, or lusting, after some hot stranger. She squared her shoulders, ignored the way Gray made her pulse pound and looked Ken the belly crawler straight in the eyes. “Get your things, leave and don’t come back.” Dark eyes narrowed. “You can’t—”

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“I already did.” She kept her chin high and her gaze unwavering. “You’re fired.” Shooting a glare in Gray’s direction, Ken cocked his head at Sophia and called her several foul names. “You’ll regret this. Mark my words.”

***** “Hiya, stud-muffin. I’ll take a Screaming Orgasm.” Gray tugged on his too tight shorts and forced a smile at his latest customer, a profoundly endowed brunette whose glitter-covered skin twinkled under the rotating strobe lights. “A Screaming Orgasm, huh?” How many times had he heard that one tonight alone? He turned to mix her drink and ignored her loud, appreciative sigh. Hell, he hated wearing these skimpy shorts but at least he wasn’t on the stage letting Grandma Clampett rub baby oil onto his thighs. Oh yeah, this undercover job could be a helluva lot worse than standing behind the bar giving flirty women Screaming Orgasms. He slid the drink to the brunette. She plucked a ten from her ample bosom and winked. “Keep the change, big boy.” Gray watched her retreating figure. The stacked, curvaceous woman didn’t begin to affect his libido. Not the way the svelte blonde right in front of him did. “Sophia.” When had she sidled up to the bar? Surprised that she sought out his company since she generally avoided him, he leaned against the bar, blocking her view of his lower half. Damn tight ass shorts. “Thanks for coming to my rescue earlier.” She glided her curvy bottom onto a plastic bar seat shaped like a giant man’s hand. The entire club catered to feeding a woman’s fantasies. Sophia fed Gray’s fantasies and he was a hungry man. Starved. “Don’t sweat it.” He looked into eyes the color of those small purple flowers his mother had grown in their kitchen windowsill in Mississippi. “Ken’s an ass.” Gray had disliked the self-absorbed egomaniac lead stripper from the moment they met. Ken topped his list of likely suspects. Still, his background check came up squeaky clean. Not even a traffic violation. Too clean for someone so arrogant. “Yeah, well,” she sighed melodramatically. “His ass is apparently one of the reasons why women come to this place.” Gray smothered a grin at how her nose crinkled with disapproval. “You’re better off without him.” “Without a doubt but none of the other guys draw a crowd the way Ken does.” Her shoulders drooped ever so slightly but Gray noticed. The same way he noticed every single thing about this woman. From her flowery scent to the way her smile lit up a room.

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Gray’s gut tightened. He’d wanted to beat Ken’s face in when the guy trapped Sophia in the closet. “You need to stay away from Barnes. He’s not the kind of guy to mess with.” Not that he had anything to base that on except his gut instinct and Ken’s pawing of Sophia. Gray learned to trust his gut instinct long ago. “Do you strip?” Her gaze was hopeful. “Not hardly.” Gray snorted. “I’d rather be shot in the foot than take off my clothes in a roomful of women.” Her brow arched. A mixture of disappointment, curiosity and amusement danced in her eyes. “Are you gay?” Gray supposed he’d asked for that one and didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. He rocked back on the heels of his ridiculous black lace-up boots. “What do you think?” “It’s so hard to tell these days,” she murmured. Her cheeks glowed but she held his gaze. Gray’s lips twitched while he invaded her personal space. Mere inches separated them. “Any time you want proof of my sexual preferences, you let me know. I’ll be happy to oblige.” She licked her lower lip. Intentionally? He wasn’t sure but the effect of her pink tongue moistening her plump mouth left no doubt about his sexual preferences. No doubt at all. Funny, having spent time with her flashy, free-spirited aunt, he thought Sophia would be a goodtime girl. One with silicone enhancements and really big hair. A woman after a good time who didn’t expect more than mutual physical pleasure. Gray’s kind of woman. Although not a goodtime girl, the authenticity of her admirable curves remained questionable and he’d be more than happy to volunteer to peel off her clothes to discover the truth. “As your new boss that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.” Gray blinked. Had she read his mind? He retraced their conversation. Nah, she referred to his offer to prove his sexual preferences. He shrugged. “Your choice.” Her expression became thoughtful. Only the bar separated them and the scent of lilacs drifted through his senses. Soft, subtle but an intoxicatingly sexy scent. Just like the woman who wore the fragrance. She gave his body another once-over with her unusual-colored eyes. Were they contacts? Doubtful since Madame G’s eyes boasted the same rare color. “My aunt really did mess up when she put you behind the bar.” Madame G had offered him a spot on stage but Gray convinced her to let him serve drinks. “She needed a bartender.”

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“I suppose.” Sophia didn’t look convinced but she did keep eying his mostly bare body. Her expression broadcast her every thought. She envisioned him stripping. Sensually. Seductively. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and his breath caught so hard he’d swear someone sucker punched him. Her gaze traveled down his chest, lower. He tried not to flex his muscles under her velvety assessment but the urge to preen beneath her stare tempted. He wanted to knock Sophia Walker’s hose right off of those shapely legs. Liquid heat tornadoed through his gut while she continued to mentally strip him. His abdominal muscles clenched and, although it shouldn’t have, her indrawn breath pleased him in ways he couldn’t define. Her interest could prove useful in cracking this case. That had to be why. At least that’s what he kept telling himself when he grinned and added, “Besides, I’m good at what I do.” Her eyes darkened and he dropped his voice to a low growl. “Very good.” “I bet.” Her cheeks flushed, she quickly averted her eyes, hinting that she hadn’t meant to make her admission. He grinned. It would be easy to like Sophia. Not that he would let himself. He was here on business. Sophia, however unlikely to be involved, was a suspect until proven otherwise. Besides, as a Tennessee Bureau of Investigations agent, Gray didn’t become emotionally involved with suspects. Or anyone else for that matter. Sexually involved was another matter entirely. “Want something to drink?” He considered offering her a Screaming Orgasm or some Sex on the Beach but decided she’d think him as corny as he thought all the flirtatious women ordering the drinks with more invitation on their breath than actual thirst. “No, what I really want,” she paused, looking as jumpy as a kitten surrounded by a pack of snarling dogs. “What I need,” she clarified, her eyes locking with his, begging him to say yes to whatever she requested and damn if he didn’t wait with bated breath and a yes on the tip of his tongue. “Is for you to take off your clothes for me.” Sophia realized what she said about the same time Gray’s blue-black eyebrows hiked up. He rested his palms flat against the polished bar surface and bent so close his breath brushed her face. “Excuse me?” “That didn’t come out quite the way I intended.” Her cheeks burned. “I need you to strip for me.” At the twinkle in his molten eyes, she launched into a babbled explanation. “On Halloween night. Take Ken’s place. No woman would be disappointed if you took off your clothes. On stage, that is.” Her face blazed and she wondered if she should just shut up. “I know you said you don’t strip but you’re ten times sexier than he ever dreamed of being.”

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Yes, she should have shut up. Her jumbled words only served to brighten the light in Gray’s eyes. She attempted to swallow but her dry throat stuck together. Darn, she wished she’d taken his offer of a drink. “Thanks.” A slow lifting of his lips robbed Sophia’s lungs of their ability to inhale. “But,” he continued in his rich baritone that she could much too easily imagine whispering words of seduction. “I’ve already told you, I don’t strip.” “I’d pay you extra.” Even if she had to do so out of her own pocket. Unfazed, he shook his head. “What little clothing I have on, stays on.” “But,” she began again. “I’ve thought about how I can handle Ken’s departure and the only way to ensure Strip or Treat’s success is to find another ‘treat’ for my aunt’s bash. You’re that treat. There isn’t anyone else who can pull off the grand finale.” When he looked ready to argue, she hurried on. “I could hire a new stripper between now and then. But even if I could find someone with the right look, I’d be relying on an unknown to headline the show. Too risky.” “Get Elvis.” Good thing she didn’t have a drink. She’d have spewed it into his face at his outlandish suggestion. She rolled her eyes at the image of the sixty-year-old stripper. Elvis Constiago had been employed by Heavenly Hunks for so long Aunt Genevieve didn’t mind that the wrinkly man gave a whole new meaning to hunka hunka burning love. Or that he garnered more good-natured laughs than lusty oohs and aahs. Still, the crowds always called and cheered for him. However, grand finale he was not. “Elvis is already on schedule for Strip or Treat night. So are the other regular guys. Everybody has their part in the show, but the the ‘treat’ is supposed to be something out of the ordinary. The audience will be expecting something they haven’t seen a dozen times before.” She bit the inside of her lower lip, not trying to hide her desperation. She was desperate. Her choices were to fail or convince Gray. “I need you for the last strip. The big shebang.” Her gaze lowered to where his six-pack disappeared enticingly behind the bar. “No pun intended.” Surprise at her teasing registered on his face. No wonder. From the moment she realized he reduced her to a bumbling idiot every time she looked at him, she made sure to stay away. “No.” “But—” “No buts. I’m not the right man for your aunt’s Halloween party. Find someone else.” His tone left no room for argument but she pushed anyway. What choice did she have? “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” She didn’t want to beg but if he agreed she wouldn’t have to worry about her aunt’s reaction. Lord, what if Aunt Genevieve got so upset she really had another stroke?

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“Nope. But for you,” he charmingly waggled his brows, “I’d find it in my heart to do a private performance.” Sophia gulped, trying to squelch the rising temptation to plead for a private performance this very moment. Right now. Haul her behind the bar and have his wicked way with her. But a private performance wasn’t what she needed. Wanted, yes. Needed, no. This was about much more than want. She’d do whatever it took to keep from being a failure in her aunt’s eyes. Already that’s how everyone else in her family saw her. No way would she let her aunt’s trust be misplaced. What was that old saying? That everyone had their price? “What would it take to convince you?” He dipped his mouth close. If she so much as hiccupped, their lips would touch. “Not much,” he said. “Just say the word. I’ll carry you upstairs for a performance you’ll never forget.” Gray’s exposed shoulders, so broad and within her reach, smacked her libido into overdrive. The suggestion in his husky tone, the carnal hunger in his eyes, the testosterone that oozed from his every pore made her long for everything he could give. She stared at his mouth, wishing she could stretch the tiny amount that would bring their lips in contact. Could she fake a hiccup? Lord knows she’d faked just about everything else during her life. “Would you do Strip or Treat if I answered yes?” Shocked at herself, she held her breath at the naked desire in his eyes. Did she want him to say yes? To give her an excuse to quit listening to the voice of reason reminding her of Nate and her family responsibilities? “I’ve never coerced a woman into sharing my bed.” Without so much as a blink, his expression became serious. “All my undressing performances are private. No exceptions.” Had she been more like her aunt, or at least willing to act on the wild urges that lurked beneath her surface, Gray would be exactly the kind of man she’d choose to embark with on a few sexual fantasies. Being a sensible woman who walked the straight and narrow path made her a big fat loser this time. And since when had a man smelled so good? Gray did. All musky spice that made her want to inhale deeply to experience his scent. “Thanks but I’ll have to pass,” she murmured, hearing her regret and realizing their conversation had come full circle. “If that’s what you want.” Her aunt’s buff bartender assured without acting as if her refusal bothered him in the slightest. Not that she expected it to. Not really. Men treated her like a porcelain princess, not a sex kitten. Yet Gray looked at her with predatory lust. Then again, his testosterone level probably ran so high he looked at every woman as if he wanted to spend the entire night making her scream his name. “Sophia.” His voice sounded gravelly. 13

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“Uhm?” She gazed at his mouth. What would it feel like to have him kiss her? To possess her completely? “You shouldn’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” His lovemaking wouldn’t be gentle, wouldn’t allow her to think about anything but his hands, his mouth, on her body. Gray’s possession would be total, demanding, unlike anything she’d ever known. Unlike the tame, polite sex that encompassed her sexual knowledge base. “Like you want me right here, right now.” She did want him right here, right now. Which was ludicrous. She was recovering from her split with Nate and, damn, Gray’s mouth called to her. She bit the inside of her lower lip and dragged her gaze from his mouth. “Sorry.” “Don’t be.” He placed his hand over hers. Needles of awareness pricked her. “You’re a desirable woman.” “Ken certainly thought so in the closet earlier,” she mused, feeling a bit unnerved by Gray’s compliment and more so by his touch, by her wild response to everything about him. His callused thumb stroked over her hand like a lover’s whisper on a rainy afternoon spent in bed. “You did the right thing by getting rid of Barnes. He was trouble.” “Yes, I know but unless I can change your mind, I’m short a Halloween treat and don’t think Saturday night’s audience is going to appreciate being tricked.”

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Chapter Two “Sophia, dear. I’m proud of how you’ve taken charge of the club.” Genevieve Walker’s speech slurred, each word reminding Sophia of her aunt’s fragile health. “I didn’t know who else to trust with my baby.” A heavily bejeweled hand patted Sophia’s. Each morning the nurse removed the jewelry but the rings always ended up back on her aunt’s fingers. Sophia stared at the colorful gems. “I hope you won’t regret that decision.” Up to this point, she wasn’t sure her aunt had made a good choice. Sophia was used to dealing with numbers, not men taking off their clothes. Which just went to prove the sad state of her life. “Nonsense. You’re doing a fine job.” Another soft hand pat. “I was afraid the doors would close.” Aunt Genevieve sighed and looked every one of her almost sixty years. “That would hurt me in ways this stroke never could.” Sophia’s feet shifted and she wanted to scream for her aunt not to get too set on the club remaining open. Unless Sophia found a solution to Saturday night’s performance, it might not. It wouldn’t take much to push the club into bankruptcy. There were some major problems with the entries in the account ledger. Strippers paid who, as best as Sophia could tell, never worked for Heavenly Hunks. Purchased services or goods paid to companies that didn’t exist. But she’d deal with that later, when her aunt didn’t watch her every expression and her conscience didn’t demand she launch an official criminal investigation. “You know I never raised any children of my own. That club’s all I’ve ever had, my family.” Aunt Genevieve took a few deep breaths. Moisture gathered in her eyes, the violet orbs now as sparkly as the rings on her fingers. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here taking care of things.” Sophia almost winced. As if she didn’t have enough pressure to succeed. “Tell me about Gray Erickson.” Talk about increasing pressure. Sophia’s blood pressure shot through the roof. Why had she just asked her aunt about her tenant? “Gray?” Aunt Genevieve’s expression became pensive. “What about him?” “Oh, nothing.” Sophia waved her hand dismissively. She should never have brought up her aunt’s hunky bartender. “Has he done something?” “Done something? No.” But I wish he’d do me. Sophia’s cheeks burned. “I just wondered. Since he lives across the hallway. From you, I mean.”

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Aunt Genevieve cackled, some color returning to her pale cheeks. “Well, it ain’t so I can sneak across and get me some. Not that I wouldn’t if I were a few years younger, mind you.” “Oh.” “Oh?” Her aunt smiled knowingly. “He needed a place to stay. The guest apartment sat empty. Why not? I like him. Don’t completely trust him but I do like the boy.” “I’m not sure I’d call Gray a ‘boy’.” “You do have a point. He’s all man, ain’t he?” A wrinkled eyelid winked. “You sneaking across the hallway to do my bartender, Sophia? Is that why you look so tired?” Heat radiated from her cheeks. She was tired. Sitting up and studying an archaic accounting system that hid a lot of secrets better left untold would do that to a girl. Especially when that girl felt ethically bound to report those suspected secrets, yet just as ethically bound to protect her aunt. “You know, I broke off my engagement a few weeks ago.” She’d feed her aunt the same lines she’d been feeding herself. “The last thing I need is to start a relationship with Gray.” “Sugar, Gray is the kind of man you have a really wild ride with, not a relationship.” Aunt Genevieve was just too much. “Take my advice, sleep with him if that’s what you want but don’t fool yourself for one minute that it means a thing.” Sophia ordered her mouth to close. “Gray’s a drifter and, honestly,” Aunt Genevieve continued. “I’m surprised he’s still at the club. I guessed he’d leave in a month tops.” “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.” “You do that.” For the first time since Sophia entered the hospital room silence filled the antisepticlaced air. “Uhm, there’s something I need to tell you,” she began, hoping she didn’t upset Aunt Genevieve too much with the news she fired Ken. And should she ask about the books? See how her aunt reacted? Probably not. Ignorance might be bliss. “You look worried. Don’t be.” The hand covering Sophia’s squeezed lightly. “I’m fine with you entertaining my bartender and I’ve already heard things are going well at the club.” What? “I’m not entertaining your bartender.” At least, not intentionally. “Who told you about the club?” Had someone dropped the bomb about her firing Ken? A smile that drooped slightly on one side slashed across her aunt’s face. “I have my sources.”

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Sophia was sure she did. Several of the strippers had visited. They all treated her like a surrogate mother. “Well, saying they’re going well might be stretching things a bit.” She stared at the tubing running from an IV machine into her aunt’s wrist. “Oh, balderdash,” Aunt Genevieve said. “You’re doing a fine job.” Of screwing things up and asking questions she might not want to know the answers to. “Not really.” “Why would you think that?” “Because.” Here it was, her chance to explain about Ken and not having a lead act for Strip or Treat. And to ask about all those strippers being paid who didn’t work at the club. Strippers that no W-2 wage statements had ever been issued for. She didn’t have to work for the IRS to know that qualified as tax fraud and was a felony. Not to mention it reeked of money laundering and Lord only knew what all else. “Good morning, Miss Walker.” A perky woman who looked barely out of her teens jaunted into the room, stealing away all semblance of privacy. “Ready for your physical therapy?” “What is it with you people and making me get out of bed?” Aunt Genevieve complained with all the gusto of a true drama queen, her eyes sparkling. “Surely you didn’t think this was the Holiday Inn.” The young therapist playfully rolled her eyes. “Next thing you know, you’ll be demanding for kids to eat free.” “Darn tootin.” Aunt Genevieve winked at the woman, then scowled. “Wait a minute. I thought I told you I wanted a male therapist. One with really big hands and a nice butt?” “You did but,” the woman put emphasis on the word and shrugged nonchalantly, “looks like you’re stuck with me. Something about you pinching a male nurse aide’s rear end. Or something like that.” Sophia covered her mouth to keep from laughing at her aunt’s appalled expression. “He practically begged for it, looking so fine in those blue scrubs. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t touching me too,” Aunt Genevieve protested. “Puh-leeze. He was giving you a bath.” The therapist unplugged the IV machine and draped the cord around a hook on the metal stand holding the unit. “So? I could tell he was enjoying himself. Only fair I enjoyed myself a bit back.” “You didn’t,” Sophia gasped, not quite managing to smother her laughter. Her aunt was so outrageous. So free-spirited. So what Sophia imagined she’d like to be. “She most certainly did,” the therapist assured. Sophia visited with her aunt for a few minutes more, regretting that the moment of revelation passed without her telling Aunt Genevieve the truth, nor with her mentioning the accounting discrepancies.

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***** Gray leaned against a dingy hallway wall that hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint during his lifetime. His gaze raked over the light green pantsuit Sophia wore. A brightly colored scarf adorned her throat. A vivid splash of color in the otherwise dank corridor. Apparently, she hadn’t heard him climb the narrow stairwell to the second floor of Heavenly Hunks moments after she had. “I don’t know the first thing about running a strip club,” she mumbled to herself while digging through her suitcase-sized purse, presumably searching for the keys to her aunt’s apartment. He cleared his throat. “Oh.” She spun toward him, dropped her purse and the keys she’d finally dug out clanged against the floor. “I didn’t know you were there.” “I figured that. You need to be more careful,” he warned, taking notice of the items that fell from her purse. Keys, sunglasses and a pink packet of fizzy candy. “If I’d been a mugger, you’d have been easy prey. Ken didn’t leave happy. Did you file a police report on his assaulting you?” He’d spoken with the officer yesterday morning and knew she had. She smiled in a manner that might be called tight if her lips weren’t so kissably full. Faint circles rimmed her eyes, almost giving a bruised appearance. Hadn’t she been sleeping? Not that he could say much. Visions of Sophia beneath him, naked, squirming, begging for more, had robbed him of more than a few winks. “Uhm, I’ll remember that and, yes, I spoke with an officer about Ken.” She glanced down the narrow confines of the bleak hallway as if she searched for a would-be attacker before returning her drained gaze to him. The delicate lines of her throat shifted. “I guess I’m a little distracted. I just got back from visiting with Aunt Genevieve.” “How is Madame G?” Sophia took a deep breath. Her movements expanded her chest, stretched the lime material taut over her breasts. All the oxygen in the cramped corridor disappeared, leaving Gray lightheaded and slightly disoriented. Very male stirrings grumbled that it had been too damn long since he’d had any horizontal action while awake. ’Cause dream sex sure as hell didn’t count. What better way to have free access throughout the club and Genevieve’s apartment than to become Sophia’s lover? “Has something changed?” he asked, liking his idea. Liking it a lot. “No, she’s doing great. Just a little frustrated.” Sophia’s shoulders sagged. “Has to be hard on a woman as vibrant as Madame G to be confined to the hospital. What’s her doctor say?” Having decided to gain Sophia’s trust, Gray moved in closer. Close was good.

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“That with time, determination and physical and occupational therapy she should recover almost completely.” “I’m glad to hear she’s going to be okay.” He flashed a smile meant to charm. “I really appreciate how she gave me this job and apartment. Let me know if there’s anything she needs.” He paused, raked his gaze down her centerfold perfect figure. “Anything you need. I’m just across the hallway.” Her face blazed red. She shifted, licked her lips. Gray considered kissing her. His every male instinct urged him to take what he wanted, that the attraction wasn’t onesided but the agent in him reminded he should bide his time. Move in too quickly and your quarry might find wiggle room. “Guess I’ll see you later.” Despite her words she made no move to pick up her keys or purse, just eyed him, looking torn and exhausted. He almost felt guilty that he planned to use her for the case and his sexual gratification. Almost. Their physical relationship would be of her free will and he’d make sure she enjoyed it every bit as much as he did. No guilt in that. The case? Well, that was just doing his job and with every thug he helped put behind bars, the world became a better place. “You’re sure your aunt’s going to be okay?” She nodded. He caught a shiny glimmer to her eyes before her gaze dropped to stare at where her keys lay on the worn hardwood floor. Oh no. Time for him to disappear into his apartment and change into his work clothes. Anything to avoid the waterworks. Which was why she couldn’t possibly be more surprised than he was when his knuckles grazed across the satiny smooth skin of her cheeks. Or at the bolt of lightning that struck him at the contact of his skin against hers. Her gaze jerked to his. She didn’t speak, just stared. But he saw the fatigue, the shock, the what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here look mingled with outright desire and need. Protectiveness charged forward. Had to be because he planned to seduce her, to use her any way needed to solve this case. His instincts had kicked in, guided him on how to wheedle his way inside that cool reserve Sophia barricaded herself behind. That was why he wanted to wrap his arms around her, to kiss away her exhaustion. To promise he’d find a solution to her problems. All because of the case. “What’s wrong, Sophia?” Her lids lowered. A soft breath sighed across her pale pink lips. The gentle moist air caressed his callused finger as he traced the silky flesh of her lower lip. “Things are more complicated than I expected when I came to Tennessee.” She lifted her shoulders. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” Tiny hairs on Gray’s nape prickled. Had she discovered cocaine in her aunt’s apartment? Or had someone contacted her about the next pickup? That would certainly

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explain her haunted, torn expression. Pressing his thumb against her chin, he tilted her face so she looked at him, so he could read the truth in her eyes. “Can I help?” “Sure.” She laughed nervously. “Take off your clothes.” “For you?” he purposely misunderstood, cupping her chin in his palm and enjoying the underlying strength in the stubborn tilt despite her current weariness. “In a heartbeat.” “You know what I mean.” He lifted one shoulder. “Thought you might have reconsidered my offer of a private performance.” “No.” A faint smile played on her lips like a ray of sunshine peeping through a cloudy sky. “But you can’t blame a girl for trying to get you to reconsider her offer.” “I’d never blame you for that,” he teased, knowing that if she’d ever seen him dance she’d know she was barking up the wrong tree. He didn’t dance. “Are you going to watch tonight’s show?” Grimacing, she nodded. “I don’t have a choice. I’ve got to make sure everything runs smoothly. Aunt Genevieve wants a full report tomorrow morning.” Good. He’d get a chance to talk with her again tonight, charm her into sharing all her secrets. And her bed. “Come by the bar and I’ll buy you a drink. Something special I’ll make just for you.” His lips twitched into another of those grins he’d been told time and again melted women senseless. He wanted Sophia to melt. “All in an effort to earn that private performance, of course.” He winked. “Of course.” Her gaze lowered to the floor where her stuff still lay. “Maybe I will stop by. If you aren’t too busy.” “I’m never too busy to make a drink for a beautiful woman.” Gray bent and scooped up her belongings and her heavy purse. What did she keep in there? Bricks? He tried to look without being too obvious but she snatched the bag and her keys. “Thanks.” She offered another small smile, unlocked the door to her aunt’s apartment and slipped inside. Gray ran his hand over his stubbled jaw and stared at the closed door. What had Sophia uncovered in less than two weeks that he hadn’t scoped out in the two months he’d been undercover? Before the night was over, he planned to find out.

***** Sophia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as Elvis Constiago tore off his black and white striped uniform to the tune of Jailhouse Rock. His blue-black toupee was styled in an out-of-date pompadour and his belly paunched a little rather than resemble a washboard like the abs of his Heavenly Hunks coworkers. Still, for a man on the opposite side of sixty, his body looked pretty good.

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Sophia shook her head in amazement. Women whooped and hollered as they poked dollar bills into his boxer style briefs. Briefs covered with tiny hound dogs. Elvis twisted and turned, shaking his rear for one woman in particular until she playfully smacked his bottom. He threw his head back and let out the worst hound dog howl Sophia ever heard. The woman jumped up and down, excited that she’d been the one to elicit the horrific noise. Elvis jiggled his thang this way and that. The dollar bills on the stage multiplied. Without a doubt, Elvis brought in as much as the younger, hunkier men. Possibly more. Some things just defied explanation. “He does put on one helluva show,” a sexy male voice whispered from behind her. The voice of the man who’d occupied her thoughts most of the day. Automatically her gaze shot to the bar where she last saw Gray—not that she’d been looking. Flirting shamelessly with three women hanging onto his every word, an Arabian Sheik stood in Gray’s spot behind the bar. “I’m on break,” Gray told her, reading her mind. Mentally preparing herself for the image of Gray in his barely-there work uniform, Sophia turned. She wasn’t disappointed. Flustered, burning up on the inside, yes. Disappointed, no. Laced-up black leather boots, black silky shorts, black and white bow tie and more muscles than an anatomy textbook. She gulped, then dragged her gaze away from his powerful chest. “Yes, Elvis puts on a great show.” She ignored his comment about being on break. Ignoring how close he stood to her, however, was impossible. Two hundred pounds of solid man filled her line of vision. Would his skin be as soft as the silk of his shorts? Or tough like the man who wore them? “Have you thought anymore about making Elvis your lead for Strip or Treat this Saturday?” She’d thought about it but she couldn’t have a sixty-year-old man as the main attraction. She couldn’t risk her aunt’s livelihood that way. “Not seriously. I went to a talent agency after visiting Aunt Genevieve this morning. They gave me a portfolio of prospective applicants.” Which she’d left in the car. Great. She’d go out and get them in a bit. “I’m supposed to call in the morning and they’ll schedule afternoon interviews with those available. That’ll leave me six days to search for someone else if they don’t come through. Guess we’ll see.” “At least you have Elvis as a backup. Just in case.” His flashing pearly whites told her he was trying to get her to smile. Maybe she would if she weren’t so worried about flubbing up the club’s biggest night. Or if she didn’t know she’d uncovered something very wrong in her aunt’s books. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She glanced at her watch. “How long’s your break?” “Worried I might be jibbing your aunt out of an honest night’s work?” His tone teased.

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“Actually, I wondered if you’d eaten. I have homemade pasta in the break room that I’ll share.” Was that why she’d grabbed a large bowl and filled it to the brim all the while knowing she couldn’t possibly eat half that much? The way her heart bumped at his quick grin assured her that, yes, she had hoped to share her food with Gray. Right down to when she’d packed extra garlic bread. “I know better than to turn down food.” His big hand pressed into her lower back while he guided her across the room and to the swinging door near the bar. Sophia tried not to think about the possessiveness in his touch or how right his hand felt. She’d already told herself Gray’s interest really wasn’t so much in her personally as just in the fact she had double X chromosomes. After all, the man worked in a strip club. His ego had to be the size of, well, the rest of him. Although, honestly, that didn’t jibe with the way he responded politely, professionally, yet totally impersonally to the multitude of women who flirted with him. More than one smitten customer had slipped him a phone number only to have him hand the paper back with a charming headshake. Gray didn’t give a single indication that he flitted from woman to woman like a bee in a field of flowers. Yet, his interest couldn’t really be more than that, could it? Her past boyfriends tended to make geeky professors look scrumptious. So what if she had never really picked out any of the men she dated? Including her ex-fiancé. She’d only been placating her parents whose main goal in life was to see her married well—both socially and financially. Thus the parade of rich, passionless suitors. They’d almost succeeded with Sophia’s engagement to Nathanial Fleming, III. “What’s wrong?” Gray asked when they entered the ten by ten room stuffed with a sink, small refrigerator, microwave and a table with six fold-up chairs. Posters of bikiniclad women in various poses lined the wall. The stench of burnt popcorn lingered. One of the younger dancers had an odd fetish for the stuff and had to have a bowl before his performance. Go figure. “Nothing. Just worried about Saturday night.” She pasted a bright smile on her face and ignored the niggle there was more to Gray’s interest than met the surface. “Let me stick this in the microwave.” She removed the plastic dish from the ancient brown refrigerator and popped the lid. Tomato sauce, oregano and other spices filled her nostrils. Homemade lasagna. Perfect way to tempt a man. Not that she was trying to tempt Gray. Well, maybe a little. But turnabout was fair play. Because Gray was tempting. Sinfully so. She slid the container into the microwave and punched in the appropriate cook time. “Smells good.” He pulled out a fold-up chair but didn’t sit. She wished he would. He was overwhelming in the tiny room. His fingers curled over the back of the chair. “I have a pack of sodas in the back of the fridge if you want one.”

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“Thanks.” She plucked two bottles from the plastic web holding them together and handed one to Gray. Their fingers touched. Electricity sparked. Sophia pulled back. The drone of the microwave hummed between them as they stared at each other. Was it crazy to feel so much heat for a man she barely knew? A man her worldly aunt said seemed dark, wild, barely contained, a drifter. Those very qualities beckoned. What would it feel like to throw caution to the wind and have sex with Gray? “We need to talk.” Sophia nodded. “I’m not much with words and will probably say this wrong but you must have noticed,” he paused long enough to take her hand into his callused one. “I want you.” Her pulse quickened, jetting through her body and roaring in her ears when he gently pulled her toward him. “I get the impression you want me too but are afraid to admit to it.” His hand squeezed hers. The other cupped her face. “I assume it’s because of your role as my boss until Madame G’s health returns.” Sophia’s stomach growled but not for the lasagna’s spicy aroma that enveloped them. She hungered for the fulfillment Gray’s arrogant gaze promised. “For the record,” he continued. “Whatever happens between us is private and separate from our business at the club.” A glimmer of something flickered on his face, making Sophia question whether or not he believed his words. But desire matching her own blazed in his smoky eyes, blinding her to all else. His fingers slid into her upswept hair and she struggled to keep her lids from fluttering shut. “What do you see happening between us?” She held very still within his grasp, waiting for his answer, afraid this moment might disintegrate if she so much as said boo. “Can’t you feel the sparks? I want to hear my name on your lips when you come.” Sophia’s knees threatened to buckle beneath her trembling body at the sincerity, the honest need in his eyes. He was confronting her with her own thoughts. Could she risk having an affair with one of her aunt’s employees? Her life was already in upheaval. She was on the rebound, for goodness sake. Besides, what if Gray was involved in the club’s money problems? Sophia jerked her hand free but he prevented her from stepping back. “Did I mess up by admitting how much I want you? I know this is fast but I’m a man who goes after what I want.” That she could believe. Time apparently had nothing to do with physical chemistry. “I want you. Beneath me. On me.” His expression smoldered while he seduced with his words and the images he provoked. “Around me.” She squeezed her eyelids together. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, with him staring at her with such sexual intensity. She wanted to drag him under the table, or 23

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onto the table and beg him to have his wicked way with her. But a lifetime’s preaching from her mother demanded she consider the ramifications before being hasty. A lady never makes rash decisions. “I need some time to think.” “Don’t think.” He pressed her palm against the bare skin covering his heart. His racing heart. “Just feel.” The man could sell sand in a desert but she’d been raised better than to jump in without her eyes wide open. Was that why she currently held them so tightly shut? Because she’d like to forget logic and jump Gray’s bones? “So much has happened during the past month. My whole life has turned topsyturvy. An affair is the last thing I should consider right now.” “But you are considering it.” It wasn’t a question. Damn his cocky arrogance. Sophia’s eyes popped open and her breath caught. He was close. Very close. His head dipped. Her heart lurched. The microwave dinged. Sophia jumped out of his embrace before his mouth covered hers. “So, how hungry are you?” she gushed. “Starved.” Funny, despite the mouthwatering smell filling the small room, she’d completely lost her appetite. “I can run upstairs and grab more if this isn’t enough.” Determined to take control of her erratic emotions, she scooped a generous portion of the cheesy pasta onto a plastic plate and placed it on the table. “Sit.” She glanced at him, saw the coiled tension in his stance and realized he hadn’t been referring to the food. He dithered only a moment. “Yes, ma’am.” She spooned a small helping of pasta, got them each a fork, and parked herself in the seat across from Gray. “Tell me about yourself.” “Not much to tell.” He shrugged and took a bite of food. “This is good.” “Don’t sound so surprised,” she teased, watching as he enthusiastically scooped up another large bite. “But thanks.” She wouldn’t tell him about the other two casseroles in her aunt’s freezer. No need to let him know she cooked when nervous and had been racking up the oven hours lately. “How did you end up working for my aunt?” His fork stopped midair and he stared at her with suspicion. “Why all the questions?” Sophia frowned. “You said you wanted to have sex with me.” She couldn’t bring herself to say make love. But then he hadn’t called it making love either. And she barely knew him so it wouldn’t be making love—just sex. “And?”

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“I won’t have sex with a stranger.” Just inconsiderate jerks who got themselves off and left her high and dry. Not that she was bitter or anything. Well, Nate hadn’t been like that. But his mind had been calculating his next takeover, his next million, not on her. Gray lowered his fork. “I needed a job. Madame G needed a bartender.” This was old news. “What did you do before Aunt Genevieve hired you? I checked your application. You didn’t list any previous employment or references.” Did admitting she’d checked his application reveal too much? “The reason your aunt hired me had nothing to do with anything a piece of paper could have told her.” Her gaze ran over his handsome face, over the broad, bare shoulders that announced tremendous strength at his beck and call. Although the table partially hid the flat planes of his stomach and narrow hips, she’d put his build to memory. Gray’s body would send Mother Teresa into hot flushes and chair squirms. “Okay. Point taken. Aunt Genevieve doesn’t care so much about your résumé as she does your derrière.” Sophia swallowed a bite. “Do you have family?” “Not anymore.” His hesitation was so brief she almost missed it. He forked more pasta and turned the tables on her. “How about you? Is there a whole family tree full of Madame G clones?” Sophia smiled at the thought of her uptight parents. “No. Aunt Genevieve is one of a kind. My parents are more subdued and not nearly so interesting.” He bit into his toast, then asked, “Are you like the rest of your family, or do you have your aunt’s free spirit running through your veins?” It ran, all right but with tightly checked reins. Sophia smiled in what she hoped was a mysterious way and took a bite of pasta as if it were ambrosia and she dined on her last meal. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

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Chapter Three Late that night Sophia gathered her purse from the tiny office on the main floor of Heavenly Hunks and wove her way through the empty club. Upturned chairs of various shapes were stacked precariously on round tables. The scent of too many women with too much perfume lingered in the air. Her gaze landed on a Strip or Treat flyer advertising the Halloween bash. An ad with a sneering Ken Barnes. Well, she supposed other women would see him as a smiling Adonis but she knew better. Darn, she’d left the agency photos in her car and hadn’t gone to get them. If she reviewed the pictures tonight, she could contact the agency in the morning and have them send over her top picks. To interview. To watch them strip. She chuckled humorlessly when she stepped outside the building. A nippy breeze carrying the musty scent of dying leaves and fall foliage whipped at her clothes and hair. The wind wasn’t really cool but it bit into her, sending a chill over her goosebumped flesh. Her car was parked behind the club along a metal fence that separated the club from an abandoned building. Sophia strained her eyes across the poorly lit private lot. Still, the lighting was enough to recognize the creep leaned against the car parked next to hers. Another man she didn’t recognize stooped in conversation with the jerk she fired only days before. “What are you doing here, Ken?” Both men’s heads jerked up. Hairs prickled on her nape. Had she lost her mind? The only other vehicles in the private employees only lot were Gray’s truck and her aunt’s flashy convertible Corvette. She should have gone back into the club and called the police when she spotted Ken. Too late now. The unfamiliar man ducked into the dark sedan before she could get a good look at him but Ken’s surprised expression faded into that of an opportunist presented with the golden egg. He took an ominous step toward the egg. Her. The wind picked up, sluicing through the knit material of her pantsuit, plastering it to her body. She shivered and wrapped her fingers around her keys, silently thanking God for modern technology and panic buttons on keyless entry remotes. One wrong exlead-stripper move and her car alarm would wake the dead. She hoped. “My, My. Isn’t this a nice surprise?” Ken flexed his shoulders menacingly. “Did you miss me so much you came looking for me, sugar?” “Not hardly and don’t call me sugar.” She kept her voice steady, refusing to allow her fear to show. Without waiting for his response she stalked, head high, to her car.

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Click. The interior lighted. She opened the door and, ever conscious of Ken’s proximity, grabbed the forgotten folder full of his prospective replacements. “You know you liked it, sugar.” Ken’s words came from right behind her. She twisted around and came face to face with his beady eyes. “Liked what? You? In your dreams.” She bumped the car door closed, clicked the lock and kept her finger securely over the panic button. “Only the wet ones.” Oh gag. She did not need to hear that. “You’re disgusting.” She measured the tiny distance between him and the two cars. Just like in the closet, he’d managed to block her path to freedom. To escape she had to go directly by him or climb the nine-foot metal chain link with barbed wire strung across the top. Everyone had left from the club. Her best bet was to make it to the stairs. To Gray. Would he hear the horn honking if she pressed the panic button? Hear her screams if she yelled at the top of her lungs? Ken lunged for her. She ducked under his arm and bee-lined toward the stairwell. His arms closed around her upper arm before she took two steps. His fingers dug painfully into her flesh. She fumbled with her key ring, groping for the panic button. She pushed and heard the resounding click of her trunk popping open. Great. That ought to catch Gray’s attention through a concrete block wall. “I saw how you looked down your snooty nose at me and the other dancers.” Ken jerked her to him. The pungent odor of sweat, cigarettes and heavy cologne permeated her frantic mind. “You don’t know how it is in the real world. What it’s like to get your hands dirty. Not with that loaded daddy of yours.” What did he know about her daddy? Had Aunt Genevieve mentioned Sophia’s parents to the club’s employees? Why would she do that? Why was she worrying about this when she needed to be escaping from this monster? The door of the sedan cracked. Smoke puffed free from the opening. The mysterious man hacked so hard Sophia wouldn’t have been surprised if he fell over minus a lung. “Barnes, I ain’t got time for this shit.” Sophia’s heart pounded. Ken was bad enough but this guy looked heartless. His hair was stringy, as if it hadn’t been combed in weeks and even in the low lighting she could tell his eyes matched Aunt Genevieve’s Corvette. A nice candy apple red. Did he mean for Ken to knock her off? Sophia clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. Ken’s eyes narrowed with venom and Sophia mentally prepared to land at least one blow where it would hurt him the most. She hadn’t gone through her training without learning a few self-defense moves. But he gave a one-shouldered shrug and, without humor, laughed. A wicked glass-shattering sound that grated on her raw nerves. He thrust her away.

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“Saved again.” Sophia stumbled but didn’t fall. Nor did she stick around to give him a chance to change his mind. She slammed her trunk shut and ran to the back stairs that led to her and Gray’s apartments. 9-1-1. That’s all she could think, all she could focus on. Once inside she’d call the police. Just the idea reassured her frazzled nerves. The moment she made it to the top of the stairs, she shivered. Once. Twice. Until her entire body shook. Deep, bone-rattling shakes that robbed her ability to think. To breathe. She’d escaped. Ken hadn’t hurt her. A strong hand grasped her shoulder. Terror seized her. Terror and outrage. Enough was enough. She wouldn’t let Ken hurt her. Not without fighting back. She acted automatically, instinctively. With every ounce of strength her surging adrenaline and anger provided, she swirled and whacked him. Over the head. Hard. The thud of her purse rang loud against a thick male skull. But not the skull of her intended victim. Her eyes widened and a whole new fear stole over her as she stared at the dazed expression of the man she’d walloped. “Sophia.” Gray’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed at her feet. Dear God. What had she done? She dropped to her knees. “Gray?” The man slumped on the floor didn’t budge, just winced. Panic threatened to cut off her ability to breathe. “Gray?” “Hmm?” The light from the uncovered low-wattage bulb dangling from the hallway ceiling illuminated his pale face. His lids fluttered, not completely lifting. He grunted and moved more completely into her arms, making Sophia aware. Aware she crouched on the floor after midnight holding a man who affected her as no other did. She’d wanted to think about having sex with him? Idiot. She should have jumped his bones when she’d had the chance. As it was, he’d probably never forgive her for coldcocking him. If she hurt him she’d never forgive herself. “Gray? Are you okay?” She nudged him again, noticing how wonderfully strong he felt lying against her, how sensually masculine his musky scent was as it drifted upward, making her feel as if someone had whacked her over the head. With lust. With the need to be held and touched and safe. She bent forward, only to check herself when a low sound emitted from deep in his throat while he nuzzled against her breasts. “Gray?” she squeaked. Did he know what he was doing? His eyes opened. His pupils dilated to wide, dark orbs. Even in the dim light she could tell he looked dazed and somehow she didn’t think rubbing against her bosom had put it there. 28

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“Sophia?” He struggled to sit, swaying slightly toward her. With a bemused look, he touched the rapidly rising goose egg on his head. “Did you get the tag number of the truck that slammed into me?” She hadn’t meant to hit him. “I’m so, so sorry.” He sighed as he stared at her, his expression softening. “Shh.” He cupped her chin and lifted her face. “I’m okay.” She looked into his eyes and caught her breath at what she saw. Before she had time to analyze his tender gaze or her thudding heart’s response, his lips touched hers. The Earth stopped spinning. Or maybe it tilted on its axis and spun out of control. Sophia wasn’t sure of anything except that something cataclysmic happened to the world around her. Gravity freed her and she floated. Or maybe Gray became the center of her world, pulling her closer, grounding her to him. Regardless, every iota focused on the man kissing her. All that mattered was Gray’s big hands pressed into her back, hands that pulled her into his lap. She slid across his erection and moaned. He’d changed out of his work clothes and into gym shorts and a T-shirt but the thin cotton material conveyed his utter sexiness every bit as much as his black silk shorts and bowtie. Gray could wear her father’s gaudiest golf clothes and still look sexy. She wanted Gray and the panic that gripped her heart when she’d watched him drop urged her to seize the moment. If she was doomed to make bad choices, to have regrets, she’d at least make choices to do things she wanted to do, have regrets that she’d acted instead of watching life go by without really living. She opened her mouth and deepened their kiss. Gray’s tongue thrust into the recess. Strong, bold, demanding, just like him. “Sophia.” His broad chest expanded as he sucked air into his lungs. “I want you.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. She tightened her buttocks, pleasure filling her when his entire body clenched. He ran his finger down her cheek, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Stay with me tonight.” “Because of the bump on your head?” “Because you want to.” She cradled his face between her palms, touched her lips to his and rained soft kisses over his receptive mouth. She’d swear the man shuddered. Must be the bump on his head causing him to react so strongly to her touch. Did he have a concussion? How could he not? She’d hit him hard. With remorse at her earlier hasty actions, she glanced at the rising knot.

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“We should put some ice on your head to get rid of the swelling.” “Ice?” He blinked, then grinned a lopsided smile that charmed her soul. “Ice isn’t going to do a thing for my swollen head. Not unless the ice is in your hot little mouth.” “How is my sucking on ice supposed to help your head to quit aching?” She scrunched her forehead, then realized what he meant. Heat flushed her cheeks at the image his words provoked. At the image her words provoked. “Let’s go into my apartment,” he invited. Nodding, she slipped her hand into his and stood. Gray wobbled slightly and had to steady himself against her when he attempted to stand. “Gray?” Any more of his weight against her and they’d topple back to the floor. “I’m calling for an ambulance.” She needed to call the police and report Ken’s mauling as well. “No.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t need a doctor. Just another kiss.” To prove his point, he kissed her nose, straightened and walked to his cracked open apartment door. She followed him into his tiny living room, shut the door and ordered him to sit. Much to her surprise and a testament as to how off kilter he was, he obeyed without an argument. “Are you okay?” All her frustrations of the past month, maybe her whole life, had been rallied in the whack. One of Heavenly Hunks’ ledgers rested in her over-sized purse, along with the picture portfolio from the agency. No doubt about it, Gray saw stars when she hit him. “Fine,” he said between gritted teeth. She walked into the connected kitchenette and tore a few plain white paper towels off a roll by the sink. Ignoring the flash of erotic images confronting her when she twisted the ice tray, she placed cubes in the center of the towel. “Here, put this on your thick skull.” One black eyebrow lifted but he took the ice. “This wasn’t what I intended when I asked you inside my apartment.” “First things first.” She pointed to the ice pack, indicating that he should place it to the rising goose egg. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to be sure you’re okay.” “I’m fine,” he insisted with more force than necessary and grimaced from the effort. “Let me take you to the emergency room. You have a concussion.” She didn’t have to be a doctor to realize he wasn’t his predatory self. “I don’t need a damn doctor.” He motioned for her to join him on the couch. Men. “What I need,” he continued. “Is for you to get over here and kiss me better.” Should she insist upon him going to the hospital? His stormy eyes watched, waited for her to move. Gray was a grown man and should know whether or not his head hurt enough to need a trip to the hospital. Still, she hovered. “Do you have any aspirin?”

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“I never take drugs.” Something harsh in his voice froze Sophia in place. When she glanced at him, his expression was stony, not revealing any of his thoughts. Maybe she’d imagined the ruthless intonation. She gave him a pretty as you please smile. “Your head has to be throbbing.” A mischievous gleam danced in his eyes. “If you’d get over here, I could solve that big problem and make you feel great in the process.” Apparently, he wasn’t hurt too badly or he wouldn’t be cracking jokes and making innuendos. Digging through her purse, she found a packet of acetaminophen and handed it, along with a glass of water, to him. “Drink.” One side of Gray’s mouth kicked up, digging out a to die for dimple. “I really don’t need that.” “Please. It’ll make me feel better.” He sighed. “Okay.” He pretended to swallow the tablets and downed half the water in one manly gulp. Sophia rolled her eyes. Men. So maybe he’d be okay without an ambulance but she still needed to call the police. Then an awful thought occurred. Had Gray not wanted to go to the ER for legal reasons? Reasons to do with the club’s financial problems? Drugs? She plopped onto the sofa. Gray flinched at the movement and another wave of guilt hit her. She kicked off her shoes and stared at her stockinged toes. Now what? If she called the cops and they showed up would she be putting Gray in danger? But she had to report Ken’s behavior. The man was a menace. “Don’t your feet hurt after wearing those contraptions all day?” “I’m used to them.” She flexed her toes. She’d had to wear pumps and dress clothes most of her life. No big deal. Her mother insisted upon her being dressed like a lady, always. Did a lady sit on sofa next to a man who might be criminal? A sexy man who made her heart yearn for the danger and excitement he provided? “Do you even own a pair of tennis shoes?” Frowning, she slanted him a glance. “Of course, I own tennis shoes. I go to the gym at least three times a week. Well, I did while in Atlanta. I belong to a club there.” “You live in Atlanta?” Did she want to tell him personal info? Was it crazy that, despite her misgivings, she did? Besides if Aunt Genevieve had revealed her father’s finances to the likes of Ken, no doubt Gray already knew. She nodded. “Except for when I did my job training in Glynco and then it just made more sense to stay close to the training facility. My family’s in Atlanta.” Which probably

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qualified as sufficient reason to have left Georgia long ago. “Except Aunt Genevieve, of course.” Gray looked curious, truly interested. Maybe he was. And possibly not for sinister reasons. Other than the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, she really didn’t have a reason to mistrust him. No reason to trust him either, though. “Where are the rest of the family?” he asked, scooting closer, so close his scent filled her nostrils and overpowered her senses with his musky smell. “Too busy to come visit your recovering aunt?” Thoughts of her uptight, upper crust society parents jerked her from leaning against Gray. She’d almost had her head in the crook of his arm and hadn’t even realized it. Yes, Jack and Eliza Walker were too busy. Of course, if they had nothing to do but stare at the walls, her parents wouldn’t visit Genevieve. They thought she equated to the scum of the earth. Sophia was pretty sure they thought she herself was barely one step above her father’s black sheep sister. Possibly she fell from even that status when she dropped everything and left Atlanta after she got the call about her aunt’s stroke. She’d never seen her mother so shaken. Not even on the day she broke off her engagement to Nate. “My aunt doesn’t socialize with the rest of my family.” “Too good for them?” “Definitely.” Gray watched the rapid flicker of emotions cross Sophia’s face, sensed the finality of her comment. Just what kind of relationship did Madame G have with her Atlanta family? He made a mental note to find out and wrapped his arm around Sophia’s tense body and hugged her to him. His head pounded but not to the point that he missed her light lilac fragrance or the softness of her body snuggled against him. However, the throbbing beneath his shorts threatened to rob him of his consciousness for real. Some aches were tolerable. Others weren’t. “All the times I’ve imagined you warm and willing in my arms, none of them involved you knocking me senseless first,” he teased, leaning close and nuzzling her neck. Holding the ice to his head with one hand, he pinched her hair clip with the other, tossed it to the far end of the sofa and ran his fingers through the long blonde silk. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “That bump must have done more damage than we thought.” He pulled back to stare at her flushed cheeks. He cupped her chin. Her eyes resembled violet pools. He wanted to dive in. To drown in her loveliness. He fanned his fingers through the soft wheat strands of her hair. “You kidding me?” “My mouth is too big.” She glanced down, trying to look at her lips. She was kidding. She had to be.

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“Your mouth is perfect.” He leaned down, nose-to-nose with her and kissed her just-right mouth. “See? Perfect.” Almost scarily so. Maybe it was the blow to his skull but kissing Sophia made him breathless, needy, hungry for more. No mere kiss had ever electrified his entire being like this. “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you.” Her eyes held such sincerity that he chuckled. “You won’t hurt me.” But even as he deepened their kiss, he wasn’t sure he told the truth. Her fingers crept into his hair, twisting on the locks. She covered his almost numb fingers to hold the ice for him, freeing his hand. Without hesitation, he snaked his freezing fingers under her blouse. “Oh!” She shivered. Gray grinned, not stopping his exploration of the warmth her shirt hid until his fingers brushed over a pert nipple. “Cold?” he teased. “Burning alive.” Damn. He knew just what she meant. He pushed her bra aside and cradled her generous-sized breast in his palm. “Perfect,” he repeated his earlier praise. She shivered again but the heat radiating off her body assured him she wasn’t cold. Her free hand glided under his T-shirt and liquid fire churned in his gut, leaving him lightheaded, spinning. More so than when he stood in the hallway after she hit him. He pinched her nipple. “Ouch,” she breathed against his mouth but he hadn’t hurt her and they both knew it. “I had to be sure you’re really here.” Her eyes darkened and her plump lips curved. Sinful and seductive. Greedy fingers closed over his nipple and she returned the favor by nipping him. He shivered. From the inside out. “Just so you know that you’re really here. With me.” “I figured I was dreaming.” He massaged her breast, not liking how her clothing restricted his access. “Then I’m having the same dream.” She kissed the curve of his throat. Nothing had ever felt more erotic than her soft, blistering lips. “Don’t wake me.” He attempted to cup her other breast but couldn’t due to her blouse. He slid his hand out and stared into her eyes. “I’m going to take off your shirt, kiss you until you beg me to come inside and then I’m going to strip your pants. I want you naked and around me. If that isn’t what you want, tell me now.” He held his breath, waiting for her answer. Maybe he shouldn’t be so crass about his intentions but he had a feeling once they started he wouldn’t be able to stop.

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He wanted her to be sure. And he wasn’t sure she was despite the heat in her gaze. She swallowed but didn’t look away. Smooth palm against his sensitized skin, her hand splayed across his chest. Every nerve cell in his body started and ended with the flesh-to-flesh connection of their bodies. “I thought you were going to strip for me?” she finally said, flashing a smile that was innocence and sin all wrapped into one luscious slant of her mouth. “I will. But not tonight. I’m afraid tonight is going to be fast and furious.” He laced his hand with hers, the one not holding the ice. “Is that what you want?” “Yes. Please. I want you. Desperately.” That summed it up. Desperately. With as much finesse as a beyond horny man with two throbbing heads could manage, Gray ripped her blouse over her head. The makeshift ice pack slipped, falling somewhere onto the couch. Unclasping her bra at record speed, he gaped at her creamy perfection. With reverence, he dipped and took a pink tip into his mouth and sucked. Sophia’s gasp told him he wasn’t the only one stomping in treacherous water. Good. He wanted her as affected by his touch as he was by the lightest brush of her hand. He tasted and nipped until her fingernails scraped against his T-shirt. Until she strained against him, wanting more. More of what he wanted to give. He kissed his way to her other breast and inflicted the same tongue twirling, lip smacking attention on the rounded mound as he had its twin. “Gray,” she panted, bowing her spine and digging her nails deeper. “I want your shirt off.” He shed his T-shirt. “Anything you want,” he murmured. Her head shot forward. “Anything?” Her question came out breathless, as if she’d run up a flight of stairs. “Hell yes.” If she didn’t quit devouring him with her eyes, he’d never be able to wait. Already he longed to sink inside her, to discover how reality measured up to fantasy. “Take me,” she rasped. “Now.” “Hell yes,” he repeated. Without another word, he tugged off her pants, her stockings, sighing with appreciation at her trim waist, her curvy hips. Unable to resist, he bent and kissed her navel. Ignoring his wave of lightheadedness, he thrust his tongue into the tiny indention. Sophia’s fingers found their way to his shoulders and the pressure of her nails sparked electricity that ran directly to his groin. God, he wanted her. Looping his fingers inside the silky material of her panties, he rolled them down her thighs, never pausing from his mouth’s exploration of her abdomen. Lower.

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He pushed her back against the couch, ignored her suddenly shy protests when he spread her legs. He was right. She was beautiful. Exotically so. One finger, then two thrust into her hot, slippery folds. “Gray.” His name came out as a breathless pant. He moved his fingers back and forth and her panting grew. Louder. Stronger. More fervent as she came. “Gray. Please.” He straightened, the room spinning around him. No matter. Sophia lay spread and waiting for him. In record time, he shucked out of his shorts. She eyed his length while he slipped on a condom. A mew of appreciation broke through her breathy pants. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Sophia. Sweet, sweet Sophia. God help him, he wanted to make this perfect for her. Wanted the sound of bells in his head to quit chiming. He hesitated, trying to clear the ringing from his ears. Maybe he did have a concussion. “Gray?” She kissed his chin. “Should you answer that?” Answer? The ringing. His cell phone. Shit. Who would call at this time of night? He didn’t want to answer but what if something important had come up with the case? ’Cause that’s the only calls he’d get this far past midnight. “Yeah.” He stood took a second to steady himself, waited until the room stopped spinning and walked to the small television where he’d sat his phone. “Erickson.” “‘Bout time you answered. What took you so long?” The director. Great. “I was busy.” “At this time of night?” his boss asked, then chuckled. “Never mind. I can figure that one out on my own, you dog. All those women throwing themselves at you. What a tough life you’ve got going. No wonder this case is taking so long.” Gray flicked a glance at Sophia. Could she hear Lawrence? She sat up straighter, watching him with unsure eyes. He could see the doubts etching their way onto her face. His boss had perfectly crappy timing. “Yeah, something like that. Can I call you tomorrow?” Another chuckle. “Am I keeping you from something?” “Yep,” he said. Sophia slipped her panties back on. “Don’t.” She paused, then shrugged and picked up her clothes. “Huh?” Lawrence asked. “I wasn’t talking to you.” “Yeah, I kinda figured that. Look, we need to talk. What time can you meet tomorrow?” 35

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“Whenever’s fine.” He couldn’t risk saying more than that in front of Sophia. Who was buttoning her slacks. Shit. “Look, I’ll call you in the morning.” Lawrence gave him instructions. Gray mentally stored the information, watching Sophia slip on her shirt. He clicked the phone shut and gave a halfhearted smile. “You’re going across the hallway?” Her face pinkened and she avoided looking at him. “I, well, yeah, I guess I am.” “Don’t suppose I’m invited?” She smiled, wiggled into her shoes and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Not tonight. You’re not dressed for a trip across the hallway.” “I wish you’d stay,” he admitted, reminding himself his reasons had everything to do with the case. “A lot happened today. Be patient. Our time will come,” she said before slipping through the door. Yeah, well, he’d wanted to be what came but it looked like that wasn’t in the cards tonight. Not unless he intended to play a game of five finger jack off.

***** “I’m tired of this bullshit, Erickson. You’ve had two months and we’re no closer to busting this case than we were when we sent you in.” Tell him something he didn’t know. Gray ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m working on it,” he mumbled to the man sitting across from him in the downtown bagel shop. “Yeah, well you’ve been working it from the wrong angle. Get out from behind that bar. Maybe you’ll learn more by getting on stage and backstage than you have by pouring drinks.” “Hell no.” “What?” Lawrence raised an eyebrow. “Hell no, sir,” Gray amended. “Maybe you misunderstood.” Lawrence took a sip of his coffee and eyed Gray. “I’m not asking. You get on that stage. I don’t care if you have to beg for the privilege of taking off your clothes, you make it happen.” “There has to be another way.” “We don’t have time to fool around. Our sources say a big shipment is planned to move through the club on Saturday night.” Saturday night? “At the Halloween bash?” “Yes.” Lawrence took a bite of the bagel he’d bought before joining Gray at a booth far from the other customers. “So whatever you have to do, whoever you have to do, you get backstage that night.”

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“Shit.” “What?” “I said, yes, sir.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Lawrence’s mustache twitched. “Oh and Erickson?” “Hm?” “Try not to have too much fun with all those ladies eyeing your crotch.” “Shit.” Lawrence laughed out loud. “Well, try not to do that either. Might really put a stink in the show.” “Ha ha.” Gray rolled his eyes. “Oh, there’s something I need you to check into. Genevieve Walker’s family in Atlanta. Find out about them.” Lawrence took another sip of coffee. “Anything in particular we’re looking for?” “Just a hunch.” “About?” “Genevieve doesn’t have anything to do with her family in Atlanta.” “So?” Lawrence wasn’t impressed. “That showed up in the preliminary report on her.” “Then why did Sophia Walker run to her aunt’s aid with just one phone call? Don’t you find it odd that there’s been no known contact between them up to that point? Ever? Why is that?” “Lots of families are split. Probably had something to do with money but I’ll check and let you know what we find.” “Thanks.” Gray stood and tossed a couple of dollars on the table. “Don’t forget, Erickson. I want you backstage on Saturday night.” Like he’d be able to think of anything else.

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Chapter Four The tires on Sophia’s BMW squealed as she rounded a street corner too fast. Ignoring her mother’s nagging voice from inside her head warning that she’d age before her time, she wrinkled her forehead. Her foot pressed firmly against the accelerator in rebellion at thoughts of her mother. Since when did she drive fast? Or squeal tires? She considered her less than productive morning and creased her forehead even more. A whole agency full of hunky men, yet few of them suitable, or willing, to strip. How could that be? She had enough to worry about with her continued analysis of her aunt’s books without having to worry about finding a replacement finale. She hit her brakes as a traffic light turned red. Tearing open a packet of candy Pop Rocks, her all-time sweet weakness, she helped herself to a generous mouthful of the crackling strawberry candy. Mmm. Ever since she was a child, she’d loved how the stuff snapped and popped in her mouth. Delicious and exciting. Adventurous and daring according to her childhood friend Cindy Lou Simmons who said if you mixed the candy with soda pop your stomach would explode. To this day, Sophia didn’t mix Pop Rocks with soda. The closest she’d ever gotten to adventurous and daring was chucking her safe but boring life in Atlanta to come to Nashville on the day after Aunt Genevieve’s stroke. Of course, the events following that decision hadn’t been too staid either. Drumming her thumbs against the steering wheel she considered the night before. She’d hit Gray, he gave her an out of this world orgasm and now she was contemplating an affair with her aunt’s bartender. Her aunt’s bartender who got phone calls at one in the morning and refused to go the doctor despite the fact he had a concussion. The traffic light changed to green and Sophia punched the accelerator. This morning when she left for the hospital to visit Aunt Genevieve, Gray headed out of the club for a jog. A jog. That couldn’t be a good idea so soon after a head injury. Fortunately, the knot had gone down and was barely noticeable beneath his thick, black hair when she’d checked on him. Only once had she seen him rubbing the bump on his head and wincing slightly while they stood in his doorway chatting. Standing in his doorway, because the thought of being alone in his apartment tempted too much and she had to find a stripper. Maybe one of the five men coming to “interview” would be a natural stripper. She’d invite the other four to participate in the amateurs’ competition during half time

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of Halloween night’s show. Just one studly stripper to be the special treat. That’s all she needed. Sophia ran her palms along the sleek lines of the navy leather covering the steering wheel. What if she couldn’t find a stripper? Then what? And, much worse, what if her aunt really was committing tax fraud and Sophia were put in the position of launching an official investigation or covering for her? What if Gray were involved? She sucked in air and almost choked on the Pop Rocks fizzing in her mouth. Coughing to clear her throat, she turned the car into Heavenly Hunks’ back parking lot. Have mercy. Gray’s rear-end stuck up in the air while he dug under the seat of his old Ford truck. She sighed with appreciation. The man knew how to fill out a pair of jeans. And how. He stretched forward and his T-shirt pulled tight over his back and shoulders. She couldn’t help herself, she whistled. Not that he could hear her but she blushed like a nun had just caught her screwing the football team. Something about Gray caused her to act out of character. Or maybe it was sleeping in her aunt’s heart-shaped bed with its custom red satin sheets and vibrating control switch. Or the earth-shattering orgasm Gray had given her with his magical fingers—something no other man had done, period. Regardless, something had her expressing her emotions rather than holding them in like a polite young lady should. Her mother would be scandalized. Of course, her mother was scandalized by almost everything Sophia did and she’d tried hard too hard to earn her mother’s admiration. To no avail. Why keep trying to accomplish the impossible when it was making Sophia so miserable? She’d save her aunt’s club, her aunt’s freedom if needed and enjoy Gray without questioning his background or why he got middle of the night phone calls. She’d use him for what promised to be great sex, not plan a future. She’d enjoy life like her sizzling strawberry candy. She wanted the snap, the crackle and the pop. All her most erotic fantasies. With Gray. She whipped into a parking space two places down and honked the horn. Gray jerked, bumping his head against the top of the open door. He blinked at her and rubbed his head. Sophia winced. Lord, she was going to be the death of him yet. She waved, killed the engine and gathered her purse. Before she could reach for the handle, her car door swung open. A grin slashed across his handsome face while he leaned against the door. “You’re rough on a man, you know?” “I know.” She offered a sheepish smile of her own. “I keep trying to knock some sense into you. Is it working?” “Unfortunately, no. Lay off, or I’m going to look like road kill.” He absently rubbed the top of his head, grin still in place. Sophia tried to ignore the way his biceps bulged

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with his movements. Tried and failed. Those arms held her last night and she longed to stroke her fingers over them now, to trace every sinew, every ripple, to remember how… “Sexiest road kill I’ve ever seen but I’ll keep that in mind.” Needing a distraction so she wouldn’t jump his bones right here and now, she nodded toward his truck. “What are you doing?” His grin faded but he quickly slid it back into place. Sophia watched in fascination as his T-shirt pulled tight with the expansion of his broad chest. “Just cleaning out my truck.” She blinked at his guilty expression. Now that she thought of it, he’d looked a bit guilty when he turned to face her. Right before he’d flashed that killer grin. What was going on? Had he been waiting on her to get back? “Or maybe I was just killing time until you got back.” He stole her thoughts and assisted her from the car. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” His stormy gaze shot to her. The intensity shook her, reminding her that even if she did only want him for sex, he was a man with dark secrets. He had a past that kept him from writing his job history on his application. For all she knew he was wanted by the law. Dear Lord, she planned to have sex with a possible fugitive. Talk about stepping outside her safe and boring life. Sex with Gray would be every bit as explosive as mixing soda and Pop Rocks. Had she lost her mind? But when he took her hand, all she could think of was how much she wanted him, how right being with him felt and that maybe his past didn’t really matter so much. Only the here and now. Only the man Gray was at this moment and that man appealed. What did the past matter? This moment’s all they’d have together anyway. “Why would you ask that?” Gray’s fingers laced with hers. She blinked, retracing their conversation in her mind. “Why wouldn’t I?” He lowered their hands to waist level and closed her car door without answering. “You sounded uncertain,” she added and tried to keep her mind focused on their conversation and away from his intoxicating, spicy scent. Standing next to his powerful six-foot plus frame left her breathless. Gray’s hold tightened and she stumbled, only to have his strong hands steady her. “Sophia, the only thing I’m certain of is that we share some heavy duty sparks and I’m as frustrated as hell. Not that I blame you for leaving last night. Just that I wish you had stayed.” He freed his hand and a great void filled her at the loss of skin-to-skin contact. “How is Madame G today?” Why did she get the feeling he hid something? “Giving the hospital staff hell every opportunity that presents itself.” 40

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“The meeting with the agency?” “Could have been better.” She glanced at the gold watch Nate had given her for Valentine’s Day. Nate. Always so practical, so logical. She missed his logic and would love to run the club’s financial problems by him. But she wouldn’t. This was what she’d trained for. So what if she’d only worked on a handful of cases outside of training exercises? She’d aced every class from tax law to forensic data recovery. She sighed at the way the morning zoomed by without her having a chance to sort out all the problems in her aunt’s books. Just as well Gray hadn’t read her earlier steamy thoughts about the two of them. He might have offered to fulfill another fantasy and unfortunately, she didn’t have time. The male Barbie dolls should arrive in the next few minutes. “Want to sit with me and watch some hotties take off their clothes?” His brow quirked. “Just what are you interviewing these ‘hotties’ for?” Was that jealousy she heard amid his teasing tone? With a soft smile, she considered Gray’s broad shoulders and rigid stance. “For Strip or Treat, of course.” “Of course,” he mimicked, with a half grin and roll of his eyes. Definitely jealous. And she liked it. Did that make her less liberated? Possibly. But after Nate’s less than passionate response to her physically—and honestly, he’d been way too calm when she’d given the three-carat diamond engagement ring back—the possessive glint in Gray’s eyes warmed her heart. And ensured she’d never change her mind about returning Nate’s ring. She’d made the right decision. “Want to watch with me?” She waggled her brows, hoping Gray would say yes. She wanted, well, they didn’t have time for that. But soon. Very, very soon they would. “It’ll be fun.” “Somehow I doubt I’d call watching a bunch of ‘hotties’ strip off their clothes fun.” She laughed. “Well, there is that.” “How about I watch you watching them?” His heated look told her he’d be envisioning a different striptease. One starring her. After last night he didn’t have much to imagine. He’d seen all her goods. Her eyes landed on his truck. What would it feel like to make love in the back? To have the open sky above them as they touched? There had to be a reason they called them truck beds. The visions dancing through her head seemed as good as any. She and Gray, naked and entwined, could bring a whole new meaning to the term tailgate party. Nodding her agreement to his suggestion, she tamped down the lust building within her and headed into the club with Gray close to her side. She had to get control before she made a fool of herself. Could they even have a relationship when she didn’t know anything about his past? About his present? When she didn’t completely trust him?

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Well, she was pretty sure they were going to, but should they?

***** For the remainder of the afternoon Sophia watched five bumbling buffoons bump and grind on the stage. None of them qualified as worthy of being the grand finale for her aunt’s infamous Strip or Treat bash, although they’d probably do well in the amateur competition. She fidgeted on her chair and stared straight ahead, imagining Aunt Genevieve’s reaction when she admitted to firing Ken and having no special treat for the Halloween night audience. She couldn’t do it. Aunt Genevieve would be devastated. For that matter, Sophia was devastated. She’d botched again. Which was totally unacceptable. As the last applicant performed on the stage, Gray leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I don’t like any of them.” His warm breath tickled her ear. “Me either,” she admitted, still contemplating the five men who’d just stripped. Not a single one came close to measuring up to Gray. Not in physique or finesse or looks or anything. But then she couldn’t say that she’d have hired Ken Barnes either. Maybe she was too picky. Or maybe Gray tainted her opinion to where she couldn’t objectively judge other men. From the corner of her eye, she looked at him. He frowned at the man sashaying on stage and concentrated way too hard on the man’s actions. He’d acted the dominant male from the time the first applicant showed up, establishing that he considered her his woman with a few choice looks and words. Not that he needed to worry about that anyway. A couple of the applicants eyed him rather than her. “None of them could ever compare to you anyway,” she mumbled under her breath. At least, she thought it had been under her breath. Apparently, Gray heard. “To me?” His eyes narrowed and he looked uncomfortable, almost guilty. “I’m not asking you to strip,” she quickly assured, “so get that horrified look off your face.” He stared at her with a strange expression. “Do you really want me to do Strip or Treat?” “It would solve this particular problem but it’s okay. I understand you don’t want to.” She shrugged, trying to keep her gaze on the man on stage. “I’ll figure something out.” “In a way, it’s my fault you’re so worried about these goons.” His shoulders pulled back and the muscles in his neck stretched taut. She feigned a half-smile. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who fired Ken.”

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“He deserved a lot more than that.” Wheels turned at mach one inside his head. She could almost hear the grinding of gears. When his gaze met hers, he shrugged. “I’ll do it.” “What?” “You heard me.” “But—” she started but he interrupted. “I won’t be the cause of increased stress in your life.” A determined look passed over his face. “Let me do this. I want to. For you.” Guilt gnawed at her insides. Did he think he had to do this because they’d almost slept together? Would sleep together? Maybe tonight. Granted, she’d pay him well. For stripping. Not for sleeping with her. He probably needed the money. Besides, she rationalized, it wasn’t like he’d show a lot more than his skimpy bartender outfit revealed. And if she didn’t have to look for a lead stripper she’d have more time to figure out a way to prove her aunt wasn’t committing tax fraud and laundering money. To prove that Gray was innocent of being involved with whatever problems the club had despite that late night phone call that sent her running. All logical arguments. Still, she hesitated. “Last night, in your apartment, well, that wasn’t so you’d do Strip or Treat.” She glanced at the stage. “I can see how you might think so after what I said in the bar the other day but I wouldn’t do that.” “Don’t you think I know that?” “I hope you do. Besides you can’t do Strip or Treat. You’re recovering from a concussion. Stripping might be too much excitement for you.” She squeezed his hand to let him know she was okay with him saying no and was giving him an easy out. “Strip or Treat isn’t until Saturday night. I have a little bump on my head. I’ll be fully recovered.” She couldn’t argue with that. He seemed fine. Except for the feeling she got that something had changed from the time she left him this morning. That something weighed heavily on his mind. Of course it was probably just her paranoid imagination looking for problems where none existed. Besides, she didn’t have a choice if she wanted Strip or Treat to be a success. She’d never find a suitable replacement by Saturday night if she didn’t take him up on his offer. She needed Gray to make lots of women lust after that delicious body of his.

***** Gray watched Sophia struggle with the idea of him stripping. Stripping. What had his boss been thinking this morning? Not about the fool Gray was going to make of himself. Remembering Lawrence’s chuckle, Gray amended that thought. His

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boss knew exactly how much he didn’t want to do this. And was going to make him anyway. Because he really was getting nowhere on the case, especially now that his two top suspects, Genevieve and Barnes, were out of the picture. Which is where Sophia came in. Every gut instinct told him she was his link to breaking this case. If he had more time he could avoid the strip session but apparently time had run out. Besides he watched Sophia’s worry grow with each nut that pranced across the stage. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to hire any of them. They all looked a bit too pretty boy. One of the jerks actually flirted with him. Him. He’d have messed the guy’s face up real good if Sophia hadn’t clasped hold of his fist and shot a warning that begged for him to let it go. “Gray, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel up to.” She didn’t meet his eyes. She was trying to give him an out, to blame saying no on her having hit his head. To let him make it her fault. Was that what the people in her life usually did? Guilt slammed into his gut. Why had he waited? He should have just told her he’d changed his mind about Saturday night the moment she got out of her car. That’s why he’d waited for her to return to the club to begin with. “Except for a dull headache, probably caused from my collision with my truck roof, I feel fine.” Her gaze jumped to where his hair hid the bump she’d made last night. Regret shone in her eyes. Her full lips twisted into a stubborn set. “No, I won’t let you.” It struck him that she needed him to agree. But she couldn’t bring herself to admit it because, well, why was she saying no? Because she wasn’t willing to risk his health? Or to have him do something he’d said he didn’t want to do? Or maybe she really did believe he thought she’d let him touch her to convince him to say yes to Strip or Treat. Similar to how he’d seduced her to gain her trust, to get her to tell him whatever she discovered. A quiver of something unrecognizable flickered in his chest. Hell, he didn’t like this. He was using her for his case, not having a relationship. He needed to quit forgetting that important distinction. Still, he stretched and dropped a kiss on her cheek. A kiss that left him wanting more. A kiss that reminded him he hadn’t provided any reprieve from his sexual frustration last night. “I think I can manage one night.” He was lying. He wasn’t sure he could manage at all. “I don’t want you to.” Her words said one thing but her eyes were full of unease, her tone conflicted and that unfamiliar part of him longed to erase her uncertainty. “But I’m going to.” For the case. Because Lawrence said he had to. That was the only reason. If it happened to ease Sophia’s burden, then so be it. Stripping on stage at a Halloween bash for rambunctious women. Who’d have thought he’d agree to do so willingly? Well, maybe not so willingly since Lawrence hadn’t given him any choice in the matter. More like, do it or else. Then a horrible thought occurred to him. “I can’t dance.” 44

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Chapter Five “Gray’s going to do Strip or Treat?” Aunt Genevieve looked impressed when Sophia informed her the following morning of the change in strippers for the biggest show of the year. Sophia tried not to cringe. “Yes, he’s going to do the grand finale.” “How did you manage that, dear?” She avoided meeting her aunt’s astute gaze. “I asked.” “And he said yes?” Eyes still averted, she nodded. “That’s odd. He seemed dead set against being part of the show.” Her aunt’s forehead wrinkled. “I’d have put him on stage immediately had I suspected he was willing. Actually, I tried to put him on stage. More than once.” “He’s only doing the show to help me out.” At Aunt Genevieve’s curious expression, Sophia hastily added, “To help you out, I mean.” “Uh-huh. So that’s how it is. I wondered after you asked about him the other day.” Her aunt smiled. Sophia’s heart warmed to see the apparent improvement the past twenty-four hours had made. Her aunt’s speech still slurred but without a doubt she had more control over her body with each passing day. “What about that fiancé of yours in Atlanta?” The warm feeling dissipated. “Nate?” Sophia averted her gaze. Not because of memories of her ex but because of what her aunt’s smile implied. Sophia couldn’t very well argue that her assumption was wrong. She squeezed her eyes shut, full of regret and resignation. Despite having rationalized all night, she couldn’t get the idea that she was using Gray out of her head. How could trying to do the right thing for one person she cared about feel so wrong in regards to another? Maybe because it was wrong? Gray didn’t want to do Strip or Treat, so why was he? She’d asked herself that a million times since he agreed. Something just didn’t click. Was that why, despite a long kiss at her doorway last night after closing the club, she hadn’t invited him in? She’d wanted to but instead disappeared into Aunt Genevieve’s apartment alone. “Whatever his name is.” Her aunt attempted to wave her hand but her actions remained jerky. Sophia focused her attention on her aunt and off the reasons why she hadn’t spent the night exploring Gray’s anatomy.

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“I broke off things with Nate a few weeks ago.” And not for one moment had he taken her seriously. He couldn’t fathom why any red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to marry him. For that matter, he was probably right. Most would love to. If not for Nate, then for his fat bank account. “Smart move.” “Not according to Mother and Father and half of Atlanta.” Sophia sank onto the bed. “They’ve threatened to disown me if I don’t come to my senses and beg him to take me back before he changes his mind.” An odd look passed over Aunt Genevieve’s features. “Do you want to be taken back, dear?” Startled, Sophia’s gaze flashed to her aunt. Her own mother had never bothered to ask that question. Although Sophia suspected her answer really wouldn’t make any difference in Eliza’s thoughts on the Nate issue. Nate was a good catch. She couldn’t argue with that. Nor could she say he wasn’t a good man, he was. But he didn’t excite her. Didn’t make her want to be more than she was. Worse, he didn’t make her feel like Gray did with just the touch of his lips against hers. So, what did that mean? “No,” she answered her aunt since she couldn’t answer her own questions. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as Mrs. Nathaniel Fleming. I’m not in love with Nate. Never have been. I’m not even sure how I ended up engaged to him. Perhaps he asked Mother and she agreed for me.” She flinched as another thought struck her. “Or possibly Mother proposed to him and we were engaged before either of us knew what happened.” Which was probably hitting the nail upon the head. Poor Nate had probably been relieved when she’d given his ring back. That’s why he’d been so calm. “You deserve better.” “Better than Nate?” Sophia laughed. “According to Mother, I couldn’t possibly do better. He’s a fine upstanding Atlanta citizen. Which could be interpreted as—he has more money than Mother and Dad do. More money than King Solomon.” “More money than your father and a biblical king?” One dyed blonde brow arched. “He is a wealthy rascal. What’s wrong with him? Ugly as sin? Into kinky sex? Gay?” Kinky sex? Nate? Sophia almost doubled over with mirth. There wasn’t a kinky bone in Nate’s body. But after two nights of Gray’s kisses and the erotic dreams she experienced when she finally drifted to sleep, she wondered if there weren’t quite a few in her. With his salon-styled blond hair, handsome features and gold-rimmed glasses, Nate couldn’t be called ugly. Not by a long shot. Nor did she think for one second he was gay. Just overly dedicated to his business. All the man did was work. He didn’t love her any more than she loved him.

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“Nate is all business. I’d die of boredom being married to him.” She frowned. “Not that I even want to get married. I don’t. I just finished my Advanced Computer Evidence Recovery course a few months ago and I’m thinking I may ask for a transfer, move up north, find a job and experience life away from the nest.” “Hard to believe you work for the IRS. Seems like such a dull job to be doing other people’s taxes all day long.” Lots of people made that wrong assumption. Had her aunt’s comment been intentional, fishing for more information about Sophia’s background and what she might suspect? “I don’t exactly do people’s taxes,” she admitted. “Mainly I investigate corporate fraud.” “Like that company a few years back? En-something-or-other?” Aunt Genevieve’s eyes quickly averted. She plucked a white fuzz ball from the knobby blanket. “Sounds dangerous.” “It could be if I uncovered some major criminal network. The last case team I worked on uncovered tens of millions of dollars owed in back taxes.” “That’s a lot of money.” “Yes, it is. But most of the cases I’ve dealt with have been more mom-and-pop kinds of tax problems. If I transfer to a big city, I’m more likely to be involved with the bigger cases that make the news headlines.” Aunt Genevieve looked paler than when Sophia arrived. “Maybe you’ll decide to stay here. I could always use extra help with the club.” “Maybe.” But she doubted it. And definitely not as an employee of Heavenly Hunks. Not that she made that much but she really didn’t think her aunt could afford to put her on the payroll. Gray agreeing to do Strip or Treat had solved the Strip or Treat bash problem but to make the club financially solvent was still a long battle ahead. For now, she could focus on figuring out what was sucking the funds from her aunt’s accounts and hope it wasn’t her aunt. “Just out of curiosity, what did your parents have to say about you coming here? I’m betting they weren’t happy.” Livid was a more apt description. “That woman is nothing but trouble,” her mother warned over and over. “No, they weren’t happy but they’ll get over it.” Maybe. “I really am glad you came. It means so much.” Aunt Genevieve’s voice broke and Sophia’s gaze shot to her face. What happened between her parents and Aunt Genevieve to cause so much tension between them? Sophia started to ask but Aunt Genevieve rushed on before she could. “Tell me what’s really going on between you and my hunky bartender.” Her aunt’s demand slurred very little, leaving Sophia no choice but to answer. 47

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“Nothing.” “Nothing?” Aunt Genevieve’s lips curved. “Well, maybe something.” “Maybe?” Sophia smiled. “Maybe.” “That’s what I thought.” Aunt Genevieve sighed with wistful longing. “I bet that one has never been accused of being boring. Especially not in bed. Have fun with him while you’re at the club. I imagine you’d find the experience liberating. If I were twenty years younger, I’d bed him myself. Heck, ten years and I’d give it a shot.” Sophia coughed to cover her gasp. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, smiling at her aunt’s feisty look. “But if I recall correctly you also warned me to be careful around him. That he was dark and dangerous.” “Sophia, darling. Sexy men are always dark and dangerous. A woman should be cautious when playing with something hot. Gray is fire.” She didn’t comment. “Sleep with him. Enjoy the thrill of a bad boy’s touch. Just no matter what you do, don’t fall in love with him or you’ll get burned.”

***** Nathaniel Fleming sat at his desk, as he generally did at least six mornings a week and read over a financial statement on one of the businesses he owned more than a generous amount of stock in. His assets had gone up by several million in just the last couple of weeks. Fleming, Inc. was one of the wealthiest conglomerates in the nation. Within the next five years, his company would top the world’s industrial market. Thus far, his adult life had gone exactly according to plan. Well, almost. He planned to marry within the next year. To start a family. To have a son to give his name to. A daughter to wrap him around her finger. A family with a rich heritage and a future full of promise. The future he could provide but his heritage wasn’t one he cared to pass on to his children. He’d searched Atlanta’s finest debutantes for a fitting bloodline and narrowed the choice to one woman. Sophia Walker. She was perfect. Well, okay, the sex had only been mediocre but he was more interested in Sophia the wife, the mother, the keeper of his castle so to speak. Everything had been going according to schedule until she gave back his ring. Was he still not good enough for someone raised on Old Alabama Road? Hell, his property was one of the largest estates on the exclusive stretch of real estate. Just because he practically grew up in the projects didn’t mean he hadn’t risen above his humble upbringing.

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No, Sophia wasn’t the type to judge him based upon where he came from. Not even based on the size of his wallet. Her parents, yes. Sophia, no. After meeting the young IRS investigator at a charity function, he chose her for her bloodline, intelligence, heart and beauty. Nate slid his desk drawer open and pulled the engagement ring from the envelope he’d stuck it inside on the day Sophia returned the jewel. The sparkling diamond mocked him. He’d worked damned hard putting all the pieces together to have the ideal life. Hell, he’d made a lot of sacrifices along the way to stay on that path to the top. But it had been worth it. He was wealthy enough he could do anything he wanted, have almost anything he wanted. He wanted the perfect family life to go with his perfect business life. Why had Sophia changed her mind? He knew breaking off the engagement wasn’t her parents’ doing. Eliza Walker called him daily begging him to overlook her daughter’s momentary lapse. The woman’s squawking was enough to make him have a momentary lapse or two. Still, she’d raised a wonderful daughter in Sophia and would make an excellent, if overprotective, grandmother for their children. He’d let Sophia get this wild hair out of her system. Hopefully, she’d come to her senses soon enough and he could move on to the next phase of his life. One that included fatherhood along with his business success. “Mr. Fleming?” His personal secretary’s voice sounded over his phone’s intercom system. “Yes, Martha?” he answered, sliding the ring back into the envelope. She wouldn’t interrupt unless something important had come up. “Miss Walker is on line three.” Finally. But why hadn’t Sophia called on his cell phone? Or was she trying to keep distance between them? “Thanks, Martha.” He pushed a button on the elaborate phone on his desk. “Sophia?” “Nate.” She sounded breathless and maybe a little guilty. Had she called to say she’d changed her mind? “How’s your aunt?” “Some better every day.” “You’ll be coming home soon?” A short silence came over the phone line. Short but telling. “I’m not sure I’ll decide to come back to Atlanta. At least, not permanently.” That might put a kink in his plans.

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“You want to live in Nashville?” Hell, he didn’t see why he couldn’t run Fleming, Inc. from anywhere in the world. There were benefits to owning the company. Living wherever he wanted was one of them. “I doubt I’ll stay here. I’m thinking of going to Chicago, or maybe New York. If I can’t get a job transfer maybe I’ll go to work for one of the big brokering firms.” “I thought we decided you wouldn’t work after we married.” Not to mention she loved her job with the IRS. He couldn’t believe she’d give it up for anything other than to raise their children. What changed? Another pause. “Uhm, Nate, we’re not getting married.” He took a deep breath. “I take it you’ve not changed your mind about giving back my ring?” “Returning that ring was the best thing I could’ve done for both of us. Someday, you’ll see I’m right.” “I doubt that.” Sophia fit the bill perfectly for his checklist of the qualities he wanted in a wife. He’d never met another like her and it was unlikely he ever would. “You don’t love me.” No, he didn’t but what did that have to do with anything? He’d be a good and faithful husband, provide her with everything she might possibly need, more. Love? Ha, love only broke people’s hearts and left them prostrate to face the world around them. He knew. He’d watched the fickle emotion’s effect on his old man when his mother took off for greener pastures. “You want love?” He didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm from his voice. “A marriage should have love, Nate. That’s something the two of us don’t feel for each other. At least, not the kind I’m talking about.” “Which is?” “It’s not the brotherly love I feel for you.” A brother. She loved him like a brother. Why didn’t that make him feel any better? Truth be told, he might say he cared for her like a sister. If he had a sister, which as far as he knew he didn’t. Who knew what other children his mother had birthed then abandoned? “Why are you calling, Sophia?” he snapped. “I wanted you to know I was okay.” He took a moment to digest that. The woman dumps him, tells him she loves him like a brother and calls to let him know she was okay? “Are you in trouble?” “I’m fine.” “Sophia, I know you too well. Tell me what’s going on. Has something happened?” “No.” She didn’t sound certain. “Well, not really.” She was in trouble. “Explain.” She hesitated, then said, “It’s the club.” 50

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“The strip club?” He couldn’t believe a classy lady like Sophia was running a strip club for her aunt. Crazy aunt, if Eliza was to be believed. “Yes, Heavenly Hunks. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. I didn’t mean to.” “But you did.” She sighed and Nate felt her frustration. “I really need to deal with this on my own.” That he could respect. One of the many things he respected about her. “If that’s what you want, fine but if I can help, all you have to do is ask.” “I know.” She took a deep breath. “What I really need is a friend to just listen.” A friend. Since when had Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor become friend material to the woman he wanted to marry? No matter what Sophia said they did share a bond. Maybe it was just one of friendship but what better foundation for marriage? “Okay. Shoot.” Sophia launched into an explanation, talking almost faster than he could follow. “The club is always packed and yet, if my calculations are right,” she took a deep breath and the silence stole over the phone line, “the place is almost bankrupt.” “Bankrupt? Maybe your aunt just can’t run a business.” “The club’s been here for over thirty years, Nate. I don’t think it would’ve lasted so many years if she couldn’t run a business. Do you?” “Possibly not.” Still, stranger things had happened. Maybe Sophia’s aunt had been lucky enough to hire a great manager who’d kept things afloat until recently. Who knew? “What kind of problems have you spotted?” She hesitated. “This is confidential, right?” Annoyed she felt the need to ask, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You know better than to ask me that question.” “Yes, I do.” She agreed. “I’m sorry. It’s just with everything that’s happened I guess I needed to hear it out loud.” She took another deep breath. “There are invoices being paid to companies, employees being paid big bucks, who as far as I can tell, don’t exist.” Nate whistled. “You’re sure?” “I’ve asked a couple of the long-timers and they’ve never heard of any of the guys I mentioned who, according to the books, receive a check every two weeks along with the rest of the club’s employees.” “Sounds suspicious.” “It’s hard to tell, because when I say books, I literally mean books. My aunt hasn’t updated any of her records to a computer system. There’s not even a computer in the entire building as far as I know.” “You think someone’s trying to cover something?” “Maybe.” 51

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“What do you want me to do?” “Nothing. Like I said, I’ll handle this.” “Let me get this straight, you’re launching an investigation on your aunt’s club?” “There’s no need for anything formal, yet.” Her pitch was a full octave higher than normal. “I imagine there’s a logical explanation for the discrepancies. The accounting system is archaic. I’m probably just missing something.” Not likely. “You’re an intelligent woman, Sophia. Trust your instincts. Don’t let the fact this woman is family blind you to the reality that she may be a criminal. She’s not worth risking your job and reputation.” “Uhm, Nate.” He could hear the vacillation in her voice. “I really appreciate you.” “Sure. What are ex-fiancés for?” “Nate.” He could picture her in deep thought with her eyes closed and her lower lip between her teeth. “Despite the way all this sounds, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she continued. “I want you to find happiness too.” “I’m happy. I’m one of the most successful men in this country.” “Of course.” Nate didn’t miss the irony in her soft answer. “I’d be happier if you came home and said ‘I do’.” “I doubt that,” she denied, spoke a few more minutes of lighter conversation, then they said their goodbyes. Nate fingered Sophia’s engagement ring through the white packet for a few moments before sliding the envelope back into his desk drawer. Damn it, he was happy.

***** “The first thing we’ve got to do is decide what your costume is going to be.” Elvis walked around Gray, inspecting him with a critical eye. “You’ve got the goods to pull off just about anything. Any fantasies? Cowboy? Policeman? Vampire? Indian? Scottish warrior?” How about none of the above? Gray sighed, feeling like a fool for standing on a strip club stage while a sixty-year-old Elvis impersonator inspected his “goods”. Thankfully the club was closed and the morning cleaning crew had finished a few hours ago. At least there were no witnesses to his humiliation. “Any suggestions?” Something with a mask so he could hide his face sounded about perfect. “There are ten hired performers that night in addition to the amateur competition. You’re the big boy, so to speak.” Elvis winked. “Last year, Ken was a pirate ghost.

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Actually covered his body with powdered sugar and let women strip off the stuff any way they liked.” “That’s out.” No way was he letting grandmas lick him or whatever it was stud-boy let the women do to clean off the sugar. “Come to think of it, the year before he was a vampire so that one’s out too.” Elvis mused, scratching his dyed black pompadour. “If I remember right, he went around sucking on women’s necks that night.” Just as well vampires were out, Gray didn’t plan to suck on anyone’s neck except Sophia’s. He’d like a long nibble of that particular delicacy. “How long did Ken work at the club?” Maybe he could get some useful info from this session and curtail his actual onstage Halloween performance. “Several years.” Elvis shook off his heavy studded white jacket and dropped it onto a nearby table. “Madame G must have liked him to give him lead stripper.” Come on, Elvis. Give me something I can use. “Despite his flaws, the ladies love him.” “His flaws?” Gray asked, trying not to look overly interested. “He pulled a pretty penny from the ladies but just couldn’t be happy with it. If only—” Elvis sighed. “Ignore me. Just the ramblings of an old fool.” Don’t clam up on me now. “Sophia said Barnes gave her a hard time. That she called the police even.” Gray would like to punch the guy’s lights out, would if their paths crossed again but he played it cool. “Is that your take on how things went?” “Ken’s moody like that. Certainly not used to women turning him down.” Elvis winked at Gray. “Of course, he should have known better than to move in on your turf.” “My turf?” he asked cautiously. “Sophia.” Elvis’ expression turned leery, suspicious. His chest puffed like a prize fighting rooster. “You’re serious about the gal, aren’t you? ’Cause she’s Madame G’s flesh and blood and I’d have to bust you up if you hurt her kinfolk.” Gray wanted to laugh at the man’s warning. Not that Elvis wasn’t in great shape for his age but few men in their prime would be able to “bust him up”. And he’d yet to meet one who had. Although Sophia was single-handedly doing a bang up job. Still, being connected with Sophia apparently made him more acceptable in the older stripper’s eyes. Never in the two months Gray worked at the club had Elvis opened up. Not about anything. He’d been right. Getting involved with Sophia was the smartest move he could make to crack this case. A cold sweat coated his skin. If he didn’t know better he’d swear guilt pervaded his senses. But he knew better. She’d gone into this with her eyes wide open. He hadn’t 53

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made her any grand promises. Just the here and now. She was a means to an end. The end being solving his case. That was his story and he was sticking to it. They hadn’t even done much more than kiss since Lawrence interrupted. He wouldn’t consider the voice inside him warning he was a fool. A voice he usually trusted implicitly but would ignore this once. “My relationship with Sophia is private,” he told Elvis. The older man snarled his upper lip in true Elvis fashion. “Just make sure you don’t be cruel to a heart that’s true. She’s all Madame G has.” “Warning noted.” Gray eyed the elderly King impersonator with more than a little respect. He liked Elvis. Not that he wouldn’t bust his ass if he were in on the drug ring, he would without batting an eyelash. “Now, teach me what I need to know so I can pull this off without embarrassing myself, Sophia and Madame G.” The man nodded, his jet-black pompadour swaying with the movement. “Music. We need music. What kind do you like?” “Country.” He had a hankering for Willie Nelson and Toby Keith. Or the honkytonk sound of Montgomery Gentry. “Country?” Elvis looked genuinely surprised. “We are in Nashville,” Gray reminded. “Any particular song rock your world? One that makes you want to whip your pelvis back and forth?” Gray thought a moment, trying to imagine dancing to the beat of any of the songs he could readily recall. None of the images fit. “You pick something.” “Okay but it ain’t gonna be country this afternoon, boy. I’m a rock and roll sugar daddy who likes to shake his thang like a dog with a flea gnawing on his tail.” Elvis disappeared behind the curtain. Gray glanced around the empty club. A stripper. He shook his head and wondered for the millionth time what he’d been thinking when he agreed to this. Was any case worth this? Music blared into the empty club and Elvis stepped back onto the stage. “You’ve been here a few months so you have to have some idea of what the ladies expect. They want to be shocked, seduced, made to feel special. Every woman in the audience needs to feel like you’re stripping just for her. Like you want to love her tender and never let her go,” Elvis advised. “Like you want to rock her jailhouse all night long. Above all else, you have to enjoy what you’re doing. If you aren’t, it’ll show.” He had to enjoy this? “I’m not sure I can.” “Sure you can. You just have to focus on the women and give them what they want.”

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“What they want,” Gray muttered. Wasn’t that what men had been trying to figure out for centuries? Had he missed the big announcement when the secret had been unveiled? Elvis shook his hip to the beat and slid across the stage in slow motion. “It’s all in the execution.” “The execution.” Gray felt like he was at his execution. One with a noose around his neck. “Don’t look so worried. You can pretty much get away with anything as long as you maintain eye contact with the ladies and keep moving.” Elvis dipped his shoulders back and shimmied up. “Let the music into you, get all shook up and just dance.” Gray mentally filed Elvis’ every word. He needed all the help he could get. He couldn’t imagine how he was going to pull off a grand finale strip. Surely, taking off one’s clothes on stage shouldn’t be so difficult? “Just move to the music,” Elvis prompted when Gray still hadn’t budged. “I’ll give you pointers on what you’re doing right or wrong as you go.” Gray stared at Elvis dancing rhythmically around the stage. The man really was in awesome shape. “Uhm, what do you mean, just move to the music? I thought you were going to teach me how to strip.” “That’s what I’m trying to do. Dance. You can’t just stand there and pull off your clothes. You have to move, boy. Love the audience tender, love it true.” Gray ordered his body to move and it did but the look on Elvis’ face assured he’d have been better off if he stood perfectly still. “You’re pissin in a pea patch if you think that’s gonna fly.” Gray grimaced. “That bad?” “You’re serious?” Elvis wheezed then blew out a long, exasperated breath. “Whoa Nellie, we have our work cut out.”

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Chapter Six Sophia snuck into the back of the club to watch Elvis instruct Gray on the fine art of stripping. She expected to see good-natured Elvis smiling while Gray swayed to the music in seductive motion. Instead, the older man’s face blazed red and he threw his hands in the air. “You’re hopeless.” Hopeless? Her heart quickened at the resigned look on Gray’s face. Had he been that bad? She couldn’t believe it. “Try again.” Elvis instructed. Gray did. Sophia winced. Gray—she searched for the right word—jerked? Lurched? Spasmed? Oh! He was hopeless. And funny. The sight of Gray, who she knew to be full of finesse and utter bad-ass-ness, wiggling on stage as if someone glued his butt cheeks together was too much. She burst out laughing. Both men’s attention whipped in her direction. Gray’s face reddened under the stage lights. Elvis shook his head in sympathy. “You’d have done better with one of those girly guys. Erickson has two left feet and the cadence of a neutered cow.” Gray actually flinched at Elvis’ description of his efforts. Sophia tried to tamp down her laughter as her heart went out to Gray but she failed miserably. “Aw, Elvis. He just needs to practice.” Elvis’ bushy, dyed black brows met in a vee. “I don’t think the boy will live long enough to get in all the practice he needs. He’s worse than a man with an itch on a fuzzy tree.” “Don’t soften your words too much. Wouldn’t want to deliver the final blow to my trampled-on ego,” Gray mumbled, his silver gaze locked with Sophia’s. “Did you finish your paperwork?” Now Sophia flinched. She’d finished all right. The results of hours of poring over her aunt’s books convinced her of two things. This club was highly profitable but someone who had access to the accounts was robbing her aunt blind by funneling money out through all the bogus employees and bills. Extortion? Or was her aunt embezzling from her own company? No doubt about it, someone was committing tax fraud on numerous counts.

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Either way she should notify her boss and instigate an inquiry. Not notifying her boss would cause major ethical and legal issues and like Nate warned, possibly even put her career in jeopardy. The club was being used as a cover for something. But what? Simple embezzling? Drugs? Illegal arms? Terrorism? She had to figure out what and who was behind it. Because she refused to believe Aunt Genevieve was the guilty party despite all account columns pointing in that direction. “Paperwork?” Elvis’ usually congenial smile faded. “What kind of paperwork?” Was it her imagination or did Elvis look uncomfortable? “Just trying to keep my aunt’s books up-to-date so she won’t be behind when she comes home from the hospital.” Sophia walked over to stand next to the stage, hoping how she watched Elvis’ expression wasn’t too conspicuous. He slid on his jacket, straightened his sequined white collar and shook his head. “There ain’t no need for you to worry your pretty little head with those books. Your aunt doesn’t do her books. Hasn’t for the past couple of years.” “Oh? Who does?” Odd. She hadn’t found any records of someone being paid to do her aunt’s books. Apparently the only person not being paid by Heavenly Hunks. “Some accountant friend. James Hooper.” Elvis’ attention returned to Gray, who was listening to the exchange with great interest. “Maybe you can help your Strip or Treat delight learn how to seduce a woman with a twitch of his rear and a flick of his clothes. I’ve got to go home to get a few hours’ sleep before tonight’s show.” Sophia temporarily tucked away her worries over her aunt’s books and bade goodbye to Elvis before smiling at a frustrated Gray. “You know,” she began. “For a whole multitude of reasons, I’m probably not the best person to teach you.” “Why?” Interest flared in his expression. She ran her gaze over his broad shoulders, trim waist, muscled thighs, then flicked back to his face. “Because just looking at you seduces me.” “Really? I’d say you’ve done a pretty good job resisting my charms.” His midnight brow lifted and a small smile crept onto his face. “Maybe I should follow the King’s advice and practice.” Unlike his jerky movements from moments before, Gray moved with sensuality and purpose when he closed the distance between them. Like a sleek jungle cat on the prowl. Sophia swallowed and watched the twinkle in his eyes build parallel with the sexual tension sizzling between them. Life around Gray Erickson sparkled. Like her Pop Rock candy and she wanted to feel every sizzle and experience every pop. “After all, practice does make perfect.” He continued the slow sway of his hips, promising her great pleasure when those hips finally locked with hers. Oh, this could be fun. 57

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Dropping back into a front row chair, she dug into her ever-present pocketbook and found what she looked for. Grin in place, she waved a dollar bill in the air and whistled. “Over here, big boy.” The music changed to “Whip It” by Devo. Gray’s eyes glazed over with mischievousness. He closed the final gap between them and thrust his hips in sexy seduction. Not to the beat but sexy all the same. With fingers that trembled, she traced down his chest. The tightening of his abs and the intensity in his eyes suggested she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. At his indrawn breath, she tucked the folded dollar into the waistband of his shorts. “Sophia.” A strong hand closed over hers, holding her hand against his body. His skin was slick and smooth beneath her fingertips. She longed to bend forward to discover if he tasted salty. With exaggerated slowness he eased her hand lower. Lower. Lower. Until she pressed against his impressive ridge, a mountain against the flat planes of his abdomen. “I thought you were supposed to seduce me.” Her voice came out a rough whisper, barely audible over the “Whip it. Whip it good,” lyrics blaring in the background. “You’re not seduced?” He shifted beneath her palm, bringing her in full contact with his erection. She’d been seduced from the moment they met. She leaned toward him. Just one little lick of his abs. Just to satisfy her curiosity of the way he tasted. “Mmm.” Ambrosia. Pure masculine food from the gods. She licked her lips, cherishing the lingering salty taste and stroked her finger up and down his hard length. “Maybe I need more practice?” he asked. “You could say you’re growing on me.” He snorted at her pun and tugged her to her feet. “I missed you this morning.” “I was only gone for a few hours,” she reminded. “Hours?” His hands cupped her bottom, squeezing and molding her to him. “That’s too long.” Sophia bit back a moan at the delicious sensations lapping through her body. “Too long? There’s no such thing.” His pelvis ground against her. “I think we’re talking about two different things.” She closed her eyes, enjoying being in Gray’s arms and swaying to the beat with him. His movements matched hers perfectly. Being in Gray’s arms felt good. Right. “Whip it. Whip it good.” She sang along with the song, feeling freer than she had in years. Despite the club’s tax fraud and the fact her body ached for Gray. His mouth lowered, touching her lips gingerly, then with deep possession. Back and forth they moved to the music. Lips locked, hips cocked, bodies bumping, hearts thumping.

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Maybe now was the right time for her and Gray to make love. She lifted her head to tell him what she wanted, what her heated thoughts were. “Now that’s rhythm.” Elvis applauded, causing Sophia to jump out of Gray’s arms. Well, she attempted to but he held her close and scowled at the grinning older man who snapped his fingers to the beat. “Did you forget something?” Gray demanded. “Yep.” Elvis didn’t elaborate, just beamed at them. Gray’s hand pressed against her spine, providing a reassurance their touching was undeniably right and he dared anyone to say otherwise. “Well?” Impatience dripped from him. “Well.” Elvis’ hands went to his love handles, as he affectionately called them. “I’m not going to give you any more strip lessons.” “Why the hell not?” Yeah, she’d like to know the answer to that one too. “Because I can’t get you to move the way Sophia does. She’s the one you need instructing you. Obviously her curves inspire you in ways mine never will.” He gave a mock offended look. Gray’s gaze narrowed and it surprised Sophia to see that he seriously considered Elvis’ suggestion. “He’s crazy,” she insisted. “I don’t know the first thing about teaching a man how to strip.” She couldn’t believe Gray would even give the notion of her instructing him any credence. Until her aunt’s stroke, she’d never stepped foot inside a strip club. Her stripping experience was limited to Demi Moore’s performance in Striptease and somehow she didn’t think that qualified her to teach Gray. “Look at you. You’re actually moving without looking like a chicken with his head cut off.” Elvis accurately pointed out. “All afternoon I tried to get you to loosen up and the best you could do was pretend you didn’t have a corn cob up your crack. Sophia’s who you need, not me.” “I don’t know how to strip,” she insisted. She didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Nor did she like how the two men ignored her denials. “Then I should teach you and let you teach him, because my instructions to Gray are like water rolling off a duck’s back. Ain’t a thing sinking in.” “You’re right,” Gray agreed. “Sophia should teach me.” She glared. Uh-huh. “Maybe I should find another dancer. Or let one of the other guys headline the show.” She hedged. They’d already been through this but she couldn’t teach Gray. “Every single one of the star strippers already has a segment in Strip or Treat. You need a headliner.” Elvis leaned against the bar. “Someone the ladies will oooh and aaah

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over for weeks. Gray’s your man. Besides you’ve already sent the new flyers promising ‘Delicious’ here to the copiers.” “For the record, I still don’t like that name,” Gray reminded them. Not that he hadn’t been quite vocal about the choice when she and Elvis had come up with the ridiculous stage name. Sophia ignored Gray’s interruption. “We could go on without him. We’ll just make more of a big deal out of the amateur competition. We’ve had several pay the entrance fee in advance and Aunt Genevieve says there’s always a slew who sign up on the day of the show.” Elvis eyed her as if she’d gone mad. “Your aunt always has a special treat. This year Gray’s it.” “But,” she started but both men shook their heads. “Give it up, Sophia.” Gray tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I told you I’d do this and I will.” His jaw clenched. “Unless you’re afraid I’ll embarrass you?” “Nooo,” she began, wondering if she should tell him the truth. That she felt rotten he decided to do Strip or Treat because she believed their relationship played too strong a role in his three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turnabout on the matter. “Have you considered that I might not want you taking off your clothes in front of hundreds of other women?” Gray’s expression eased and his mouth curved in a sexy smile. “Really? Think they might want a piece of the action?” “Uhm, I’m out of here.” Elvis shook his head at them, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Don’t forget the crew will arrive in about an hour for tonight’s show. You two kids have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. I’ll lock the door on my way out.” Sophia barely acknowledged Elvis’ farewell while she stared into Gray’s glittering eyes. “You’re a free man. If you want to give another woman a ‘piece of the action’, I have no right to stop you.” “You have nothing to worry about when it comes to other women,” he whispered. “You’re all I can think about.” Shivers of awareness ran along Sophia’s spine. Guilt too. Why did the sneaking suspicion persist that he might think she’d used him to do Strip or Treat? Probably because she couldn’t think of one other good reason he would change his mind. “Gray,” she whispered. He placed his finger over her mouth. “Just feel what’s happening between us.” A hot flush dampened her skin. “What is happening between us?” she dared to ask. He didn’t speak, just replaced his finger with his mouth. The tenderness of his touch, the demand, answered her question in ways words never could. “Gray,” she breathed when his lips lifted. “Shh.” He kissed her again. Deeper. Not deep enough. 60

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All thought except those of Gray’s touch dissolved into nothingness. She skimmed her hands over his shoulders, relishing the strength beneath her fingertips. Lower over his biceps. Lower still until her fingers laced with his. He raised her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one in turn, his mouth hot and wet as he sucked her pinky. “Have you ever made love on stage before?” “Yeah, right. You must have me confused with someone who’s lived an adventurous life.” But with Gray she was someone else. She was snap, crackle and Pop Rocks Sophia. With soda poured on top. Excitement bubbled. He smiled and took a step toward the stage. “Time to rectify that because you are one adventurous lady and I think we need to explore that aspect of your personality.” Gray led Sophia onto the hardwood stage. Not that she protested. Obviously she’d crossed some invisible line when she first kissed him, because she knew her former person would never contemplate sex on stage. Especially not for her first time with a lover. The new Pop Rocks Sophia embraced the naughtiness. The music changed to Randy Newman’s “You Can Leave Your Hat on” and Sophia smiled. “This would be a great song for you to strip to.” “A fan of The Full Monty, huh?” Assuming he referred to his full monty, Sophia nodded and danced to the music. Gray swayed with her, matching her movements. All of which were meant to heighten the sexual awareness between them. Not that she needed any help in that area. The heat in his eyes said he burned just as intensely for her. Any moment she expected the stage to burst into flames. She dipped her head back, exposing her throat. As she hoped, Gray took advantage of the easy access and lowered his lips to graze over her tingling skin. “Mmmm,” she whimpered with pleasure when he nuzzled behind her ear. Their bodies still moved against each other in a timeless rhythm but Sophia only vaguely recognized that she moved. All her attention zeroed in on Gray and his mouth feasting on her flesh. That is, until his hands snaked under her blouse and eased the polyester blend over her head in slow, torturous motion. Once freed from her body, he dropped the pale pink material to the stage floor. Gazing at her bra-covered breasts, he growled a guttural sound from deep within, once again making her think of a predatory cat about to pounce on its susceptible prey. Her. Sophia shivered in anticipation of being devoured. “I can’t believe how hard I am for you.” “Show me,” she urged, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kissed her. Thoroughly. Breath-robbingly.

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“Or how patient I’ve been in taking what I want,” he breathed against her lips. “You.” Silky locks of midnight hair tempted her fingertips and she gave in, twisting the dark strands. Liquid heat pooled between her legs, dampening her panties. How was it possible to feel so hot and wet? She might scream if he didn’t touch her there soon. Just like that, his hand slid beneath the waistband of her dress slacks and panties, tugged the material down to give him free access and skimmed his finger over her clit. Memories of the magic he wrought on that first night flooded her. “Gray,” she mumbled, wondering how, when her legs had turned to Jell-O with his first touch, she’d continue to stand if he increased his pressure, the friction. “Spread your legs,” he ordered. She attempted but the confines of her clothes bunched around her thighs prevented her from making much progress. “Take them off.” Sophia wiggled free of her pants and granny panties, left her heeled pumps on and couldn’t quite believe she stood on a stripper’s stage with only her bra and high heels. It was too much. The bra needed to go. “Release your breasts.” Had he read her mind? Eyes locked with Gray’s hungry gaze, Sophia reached around, unclasped her bra and let the white material fall to the stage. “Damn.” He stepped back and admired her naked body. That could only be admiration reflected on his face. Admiration and awe. His obvious pleasure in her body prevented her from embarrassment or attempting to cover her nudity. Instead she wanted to turn Gray on to the point he couldn’t keep his hands off her, couldn’t not be inside her, couldn’t not pump his body into hers. “Like what you see?” Satisfaction pursed her mouth. “Hell yeah.” His gaze ate her up. With velvet hands, he pushed against her chest, above her straining breasts. She took a step back. Another. Until one of the stripper-poles that ran from stage to ceiling pressed against her behind. Ice-cold metal dug into her back and fiery heat burned her front from Gray. Her eyes widened when he placed her hands above her head on the stripper-pole. She clasped her hands around the smooth metal, her body stretched, her breasts thrust forward. Gray’s gaze engulfed her with a long, greedy caress. “Don’t let go.” “Why?” “You’ll see.” He dipped his head and licked the tip of her nipple, flicking his tongue in a teasing motion over the achy nub. Her hands loosened to push Gray’s head more

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fully to her breast but he chided, “Uh-uh-uh. Back up there, or I’ll tie your wrists to the post.” Hot lava erupted within her core at his husky threat. Not that she felt threatened. How could she when every touch, every look bordered upon worship? He grinned when she re-clasped the stripper’s pole. “Hold on tight.” “Yes.” His mouth returned to her breasts, laving and sucking each swollen peak until she squirmed. “Please,” she begged, tossing her head back and forth while his mouth worked its way lower, down her quivering belly, lower. He paused, lips level with her pubis, to glance up. Pure bedevilment shone in his gaze. “Please what? Tell me and it’s yours.” “Touch me.” Heart beating in tune with the music, she thrust her hips forward. “Where?” he teased. “Here?” He bent to kiss the blonde curls at her thighs. “Yes.” Apparently she knew no shame. “How about here?” He pushed her legs apart and pressed a kiss to her most sensitive spot. Bolts of lightning streaked through her body, branding her insides with his erotic kiss. “Gray.” “Was that a yes or no? I couldn’t tell.” His mouth hovered millimeters from where she wanted him. “Yes.” Her hands fell from the pole to guide him. He shook his head, wagged his finger at her. “Uh-uh.” Grabbing hold of the post, she closed her eyes and almost screamed her pleasure when Gray pressed his mouth to where she ached. He kissed her as no man had ever kissed her. Teasing, sucking, tasting, giving pleasure and taking pleasure all with the flick of his brilliant tongue. “You like that, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just dived back in, driving her beyond any place she’d been, beyond anything she’d imagined. She’d swear her body melted to a gooey puddle when Gray’s finger slipped inside. He thrust in and out in cadence with the movements of his tongue over her sensitized nub. Multicolored lights danced around them adding to Sophia’s surreal sensations. Music played but for the life of her she couldn’t identify the tune over the roar of her pulse. Over the pleasure ripping through her. “Gray,” she cried. Waves of spasms hit. Every muscle in her body contracted, relaxed, turned to mush. Her knees buckled and if not for her grip on the pole and Gray’s support, she would have collapsed to the floor.

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A smug look on his face and his hands never completely leaving her body, Gray stood and flipped her around. His engorged penis pressed against the crease where her buttocks met. He bent, inhaled near her nape, whispered in her ear what he planned to do to her body. “Yes.” His raw words excited her even more. No man had ever talked dirty to her but darn if she didn’t like it. A lot. And as ridiculous as it was since she’d orgasmed seconds before, she hungered for the feel of Gray stretching her body. She wanted to know what it felt like to have him inside her, loving her, pumping her full and doing all the things he just whispered he longed to do. “But I’m not going to.” His words dropped like a bucket of cold water doused over her head. “Why not?” Her outburst surprised her but felt amazingly liberating. Especially considering she was a naked, high-heeled woman on stage gripping a stripper-pole while the sexiest man alive held her close. “I don’t have a condom.” Condom? She blinked, searching her sex-starved mind for the word. Condom. Yeah, they needed one of those. The sigh brushing against her nape was filled with a mixture of frustration and desire so viable it wrapped around her heart. “As much as I ache to take you,” he said, “and despite the fact I’ve never had unprotected sex, I won’t risk pregnancy or your health.” He was going to deny himself the gratification he just provided her? Her heart swelled with emotions she buried almost as quickly as they blossomed. Acknowledging the delicate thread binding them could only lead to heartache. “It’s okay.” She wanted to turn, to see his face, to stroke away the anguished expression she imagined he wore. But she kept her hands above her head, afraid to turn, lest looking into his handsome face, his silver eyes, she lost her mind and begged him to take her anyway. “The hell you say. It’s not okay.” His pelvis prodded against her bottom, physically reminding her how un-okay it was. His hands slid around to palm her breasts. He blew hot breath against her ear. “From now on, a condom goes everywhere we do.” “Gray?” They moved against each other, grinding in a seductive motion. “Uhm?” “I bought a box of condoms this morning after I visited Aunt Genevieve.” She’d felt silly, schoolgirlish when she’d made the purchase but bought the box nonetheless. “They’re upstairs.” An excited shudder trembled down his body, sucking her further under his spell. “Then why are we still down here?”

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Chapter Seven By the time they haphazardly dressed and got to the apartment door, Sophia knew now wasn’t the right time. A quick glance at her watch told her that in less than thirty minutes they were both due downstairs. Despite how much she wanted Gray, her loyalty to her aunt came first. Either Gray arrived at the same conclusion or read her thoughts, because he lost the urgency that had them bounding up the stairs. Sophia leaned back against the apartment door and stared into his eyes. “Don’t say it,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. “Okay, I won’t.” “Tonight,” he promised. “After the club closes, you’re mine.” A shiver shimmied up her spine. “Yes.” Only, later that night, three of the club’s employees, not strippers thank God, called in sick and Sophia worked the entrance to cover for their absence, carding the audience to make sure they were of legal age and collecting the admittance fee. Gray worked with only one quick break and by the time the last patron left all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. For sleep.

***** The following afternoon, Sophia rubbed her temple while she pored over Heavenly Hunks’ books, searching for answers. Aunt Genevieve was in trouble. Big trouble. At the minimum she’d be arrested on charges of tax evasion, tax fraud, money laundering, although for what Sophia hadn’t found a single clue and Lord only knew how many more illegal activities she’d uncovered in the account ledgers. Ring. Ring. Ring. The shrill chirp of her cell phone snagged Sophia’s attention. With dread she dug the silver flip-phone from the bottom of her purse. Her cell phone ringing couldn’t be a good thing. She’d told her mother not to call unless it was an emergency. Eliza had already experienced more than a dozen emergencies. Surely, yet another crisis hadn’t occurred. She glanced at the number and cringed. Her boss. Under the circumstances that might be worse than her mother. “Hello, Jeremy.” “Hey, how’s it going?” Oh, great. I’m just working at a strip club that probably has more incidences of tax fraud than my last two jobs put together. “Staying busy,” she answered out loud. 65

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“How’s your aunt?” From the looks of things, she’s on the verge of spending a lot of time behind bars. “Slowly recovering.” Sophia closed the ledger, as if having the evidence out in the open would somehow allow Jeremy to magically see it over the phone line. The entries in that book could only lead to trouble. No doubt about it. “Glad to hear that. I’m hoping you’ll be able to return to work next week.” Next week? “Uhm, I’m not sure how much longer Aunt Genevieve will need me. The doctors haven’t mentioned letting her go home from the hospital yet and I’m sure she’s going to need rehab. It may be a couple of weeks before I’ll be back. I can get her doctor to fill out FMLA forms if needed.” She’d suggested it to begin with but he’d told her not to worry about it until they saw how long she’d be away. “Well, if that’s how it has to be. I’ll send someone else on the team I’m putting together for next week. Big job in Dayton I thought you might like to participate in.” “I’m sorry, Jeremy.” Even more sorry that she wasn’t going to tell him about her suspicions, not until she knew for sure what Aunt Genevieve’s involvement was. “My wife and I went through this with her mother not long ago. Family comes first. I understand. It can’t be helped. You probably should go ahead and get those forms signed, though, for your employee file. Just because I know and understand doesn’t mean your next boss will.” “Will do and will have them faxed to you within twenty-four hours.” Thank God Jeremy understood. Now, would he understand her next question? “If I decided I wanted to work outside the Atlanta area, how difficult would that be to arrange?” “You’re wanting a transfer? To Nashville?” He didn’t sound too understanding. “No, not Nashville. I was thinking more along the lines of New York, Boston, Chicago. Somewhere north and very urban.” “Atlanta too small for you?” “No but I’m ready for a change of scenery.” “Does this have to do with your breakup with that high-falootin’ fiancé?” “Not directly but the same issues that caused me to break things off with Nate are pushing me to stretch my wings.” Static, as if he rearranged the phone, rumbled over the line. “If you’re serious, I’m sure any team in America would love to pick you up.” He sighed. “You’re a natural at number-crunching and I’ve never seen anyone break computer codes the way you do.” She had a knack for decoding encryptions. She liked solving puzzles, following up on loose threads. How pathetic. It wasn’t like that ability was going to help her save

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Aunt Genevieve. Quite possibly the opposite since she’d been the one to uncover the mess. Aunt Genevieve. A rush of heat flushed her body and she tapped the closed ledger. Maybe she should just tell Jeremy about her suspicions, let him launch an official investigation and then the matter would be out of her hands. She’d have done the professional and ethical thing to do. And Aunt Genevieve would go straight from the hospital to prison. It might kill her. No, she couldn’t do it. “Does that work for you?” She blinked. What had he said? Dear Lord, she’d fazed out of their conversation. Just what every boss liked in an employee. “Uhm, sure. Thanks for calling and I’ll let you know something just as soon as I know when I’ll be back.” “Take care.” Sophia flipped the phone closed and dropped her forehead to the desk. What had she just done? As if she didn’t know. From this point on she was possibly aiding and abetting a criminal. Dear Lord, please let Aunt Genevieve somehow be innocent. Despite all the evidence pointing otherwise.

***** Gray slowly ground his hips under Sophia’s watchful gaze. “No, you’re missing the rhythm. Again.” Her expression pinched when she popped up from Madame G’s candy apple red vinyl sofa for the twentieth time. She placed her hands on his hips and guided them back and forth in a sensual measure. “Like this.” Just like that. He hid his grin and pressed forward until his body made contact with hers. She’d been distracted when he first arrived at Madame G’s apartment but he was determined to lighten her mood. Hell, he was surprised his own mood topped the charts. Then again, he and Sophia had all afternoon together. And a condom. Finally. “Like that?” Good thing her gaze never left his midsection. ’Cause he had no doubt it would only take one look for her to figure out he intentionally strayed from her precise guidance. Just to watch her breasts jiggle when she jumped from the sofa. Just to feel her hands on his body while she repositioned whatever offending body part he’d failed to execute in a seductive way. Damn, messing up was fun with Sophia as his instructor. She nodded. “You’re obviously a quick study.”

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“Obviously.” He didn’t miss her amused sarcasm. Did she know that from the moment he walked into the apartment all he’d thought about was peeling off her clothes and licking her from head to toe? She looked up, her gaze narrowing. “Gray?” “Uhm?” he said, the model of innocence and glad to see the usual sparkle in her eyes. “You’re not taking advantage of me, are you?” Busted. “No ma’am. Not me.” “Good thing. I’d hate to have to punish you if you were being a bad boy.” Her lips twitched. “Punish me? Tell me more.” He thrust his hips forward to remind her there wasn’t anything boyish about his body. He was all man and ready to prove it. Like he’d been wanting to prove for what seemed like eons. Although in reality only a couple of days had passed since he first kissed her. Then again, his body probably didn’t understand why he’d deviated from his normal pattern, especially since he was so damn sexually frustrated. Generally, when he kissed a woman, he bedded her soon thereafter. It’s just how things were with him. Kisses led to one-night stands where the woman involved knew not to expect anything beyond the moment. Sophia wasn’t a one-night stand or a real relationship. Plain and simple, he wooed her for a case. That was it. That and the fact she set his body on fire with lust. The color of her eyes deepened, reminding him once again of a velvety violet blossom. “Have you been a bad boy?” She licked her lips, anticipation evident in the way her tongue’s pink tip moistened her plump lips. Gray grinned, loving how she looked so cool, so sophisticated, yet underneath the classy exterior she hid behind, she was one hot chick. “Bad? Definitely. But I take offense at the boy.” Obviously she hadn’t taken the meaning of his hip thrust. He pressed against her, loving how her breath caught when his hard cock dug into her belly. “Does this feel boyish to you?” “I can’t say it feels girlish.” He snorted. “I’m trying to impress you with my manliness. Leave it to you to knock me to my knees.” “Your knees?” Invitation challenged passionately in her gaze, impossible to resist. “Now there’s a way to impress me.” He threw his head back with laughter and continued their playful banter. “Do we have time?” he teased. “I’m working tonight, you know.” She glanced at her watch and sighed. “I suppose you should practice more.”

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“Getting on my knees? I’d swear I got an A on that lesson yesterday afternoon,” he reminded her, knowing they wouldn’t be going into the club anytime soon by the way Sophia’s gaze gobbled him up. Good, they’d waited long enough. Too long. “An A for first-time efforts. There’s always room for improvement.” She smiled, pulled free from his loose grasp and sank onto the sofa. “Now strip for me.” “What a slave driver.” He sighed in mock misery. “Next thing you know, you’ll want me shackled.” “Mmm, now there’s an idea for your costume. Now dance, slave-boy.” “I thought we’d already established my impressive manhood. Guess I’m going to have to prove myself to you once and for all.” “Oh, I’m just going to hate that.” Her eyes twinkled. “Sure, you are.” “Strip. You need the practice.” He chuckled, dipped his shoulders with exaggerated movements and would have felt like an absolute idiot except for the turned-on light in Sophia’s violet eyes. “Work it more,” she rasped. “Run your fingers along the inside of your suspenders.” Focusing on the growing flame of her hunger with each dip and sway he made, Gray danced, seducing his audience of one. He slipped his hand under the suspenders Sophia insisted he wear with the sleek “black-as-a-moonless-night” slacks, as she called them. She left him shirtless, although she informed him that if this costume worked he’d be wearing a rip-off white dress shirt. The only thing he wanted to rip off was Sophia’s clothes. “Gray,” she snapped. “Pay attention.” “Yes ma’am.” Her eagerness excited him. He grinned and earned a glare. “I’m serious.” Her expression said otherwise. She enjoyed their play. “Right. Fingers inside suspenders.” He plucked the black elastic away from his chest. “How’s this?” “Let go.” Automatically he did, ignoring the stinging sensation as the strap slapped against his skin. She flinched. “That’s not what I meant. Now look what you’ve gone and done.” He cocked a brow when she rose from the sofa once again. Her bare breasts bobbed under her T-shirt. Old Navy had never looked so good. “Ouch. Did that hurt?” He started to answer that it hadn’t but she continued talking and he was glad the denial hadn’t tumbled out. “Guess I’m going to have to kiss and make you all better now.”

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“Ow,” he moaned. The upturned corners of her mouth hinted she knew just where he really did hurt and the fact amused her. Bewitching woman. She bent and dropped a butterfly kiss next to where the strap snapped. “I hurt here too.” He pointed to beside the other suspender. Her face tilted to smile up at him, then she kissed the indicated spot. “And here.” His finger tapped the hollow at his throat. Sophia smiled beguilingly and licked her tongue into the indention. Blood pounded in his brain. And elsewhere. “Here.” He touched his chin. Flashing another smile, she straightened and softly caressed his hair-stubbled chin with her mouth. “And here?” Her sweet breath fanned over his lips. “Definitely there,” he answered. Her lips whispered across his, murmuring silent messages of seduction while she caressed, nipped, hypnotized. He was totally under her spell. “Where else do you hurt, Gray?” Her hands splayed across his chest, burned their imprints into his flesh. “All over.” It was true. His insides ached with need. “I’d better get busy before we run out of time. Or the phone rings. Or we die from old age.” Her mouth pressed to him and damn if she didn’t set out to kiss him all over. When her tongue thrust into his navel and mimicked the very actions he wanted to do to her, he almost exploded. “Sophia.” He clutched her head and held it against his abdomen while, jaw locked, he struggled to rein in his baser instincts. The tenderness in the way Sophia gazed at him stirred turbulent emotions. She was so full of contradictions. Sophisticated, sexy, giving, demanding, all things wonderfully woman wrapped into one delectable package. Unaccustomed emotion flickered within him but he lumped it under sexual desire for lack of a better description. “What?” she asked when he didn’t move, barely breathed. “Just you,” he admitted, wondering if his words held a bittersweet doubled-edged meaning. “Mmmm, I like the sound of that.” She slid up his body. Unable to contain the volcanic lust mounting within him, Gray covered her mouth and kissed her until she panted and swooned, as if the floor shifted beneath her feet. Good, ’cause his insides quaked too. He pushed her back onto the sofa. “Oh,” she gasped at his sudden movement but then her pupils dilated with pleasure when she saw what he was doing.

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Eyes locked with hers, Gray slipped first one, then the other suspender from his shoulders. With mind-boggling ease he flicked the snap of his pants and painstakingly inched the zipper down. “Mmmm,” she practically purred. He decided right then and there he liked the sound of Sophia’s purr. Liked it a lot. With gentle bumps of his hips, his pants dropped to the floor. Sophia’s purr mutated into a strangled groan as she stared at his naked assets. She’d set out a thong for him to wear. He didn’t wear thongs. Absolutely no strings of material up his crack. Not now. Not ever. “You are so not going to wear nothing under your pants on Saturday night.” She informed him with a saucy shake of her head. “Aw and here I was planning to give the ladies a treat like no other.” “Over my dead body.” He chuckled and shook one leg in the way Elvis had demonstrated to them both earlier in the afternoon. His pants remained bunched at his ankles. Uhm, maybe he should have kicked off his black, slick bottomed shoes first. No matter, he remedied the problem and stepped out of the dark material. “Hmmm,” Sophia mused from where she sat on the sofa. Walking toward her, he fumbled with the condom package he retrieved from his pants pocket. He rolled the rubber over his erection. “Now that’s a costume a woman could get into.” He pried her legs apart and stood between her spread thighs. “I’m going to get into you, Sophia Walker. So deep you aren’t going to be able to see straight.” “Promises, promises. Let me see some action and maybe I’ll believe you,” she mocked but he saw her quick swallow, felt the quiver in her knees pressing against his legs. The heated anticipation in her gaze and her uninhibited arousal intensified the thudding of his heart. He stripped the pair of tie-string shorts off her in one swift jerk. Looping her knees, he pulled her bottom to the edge of the vinyl sofa. Her moist heat rubbed against his leg. Need racked him. Damn, he’d meant to tease her senseless and here he was the one losing his senses, his control. “You ready?” he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say the words. She clenched her thighs around his legs and nodded. “Drowning.” Gray pressed forward, Sophia’s ankles draped over his shoulders and he rammed into her dripping body. He drove inside. In so deep he’d never surface again. Was sure he’d never want to. Drowning, she’d said. He understood.

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Barely, he contained his natural urge to pummel her with raw animal power. Barely. Deeper and deeper. Back and forth in gut-wrenching madness while he pounded his hardness into her sweet, moist softness. “Gray.” She panted his name. Her muscles quivered around his throbbing cock. Over and over her body contracted, pulsated around him until his ironclad willpower slipped. A fresh wave of sweat dampened his body. He cursed when his balls tightened. He held still, hoping to prolong the moment. Refusing to let him restrain his release, she demanded verbally and with her body that he forget control, demanded he take her hard and fast. “Now,” she cried, riding his cock while an orgasm rocked her. “Don’t hold back, Gray,” she begged. “Now.” Teeth clenched, muscles scrunched, he threw his head back and lost himself. Hard. Fast. Deep. “Sophia,” he gasped and came, knowing he’d never look at the world quite the same way ever again.

***** Gray mixed another fruity concoction and ignored the flirty brunette while she waited on her drink. Apparently, she thought she was the cause of his goofy grin. Hell, he couldn’t quit smiling. He’d never had sex on red vinyl before but had sure as hell enjoyed the experience. Had enjoyed everything about his afternoon with Sophia. Such a sweet contradiction. Sophisticated sexiness. He couldn’t wait to try out some of the contraptions in Madame G’s bedroom. A room Sophia had refused to let him enter even after their amazing debut on the sofa. But when he’d broken into the apartment shortly after he moved in, he scoped out the entire place and Madame G had some wild-looking equipment in her room. His hand paused mid-action of placing the glass in front of the brunette. He could clearly see the red satin covered heart-shaped bed, could see the stripperpole near the foot of the bed, the black leather straps attached to it. The leather and chain contraption that hung from the ceiling he’d not taken time to figure out exactly how one used—although his imagination could come up with a few interesting ideas. Ideas all starring Sophia. Hell, sex with Sophia surpassed his wildest fantasies. Period. He had a feeling it didn’t matter if they were in a sexy boudoir or in a plain, white cotton covered bed. Either way she’d rock his world.

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“Ahem,” the brunette cleared her throat, reminding him he withheld her drink. “As good as you are to look at, honey, I’m thirsty.” Gray grinned, accepted her generous waistband-tucked tip without a single grimace and leaned against the bar. “Pour me a beer. Whatever you have on draft.” A familiar redhead slid her curvy derrière onto one of the man’s hand barstool. “Yes ma’am.” Seconds later, Gray set the frosty mug in front of one of his female coworkers, Joey. “Here,” she handed him a ten and winked. “Keep the change.” “Thanks.” Knowing the bill would contain whatever message Lawrence wanted him to know, Gray turned to walk away but she stretched forward. “Have to admit, you’re looking mighty fine in that getup, Erickson.” “We aim to please.” He shot her a teasing glance. “I know you, red?” “I hate it when you call me that.” She rolled her eyes. “And, of course, you know me. I’ve been coming in here two, sometimes three nights a week since you started.” “Why? You interested in me?” She pinned him with her narrowed grass green gaze but laughter spilled from her painted red lips, creating a conflicting image. “Not in a long, long time, you bastard.” Remorse hit him. “I’m sorry, Joey.” Her smile slipped but only for a second before she pulled her tough mask back into place. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. Her words weren’t pleasant but then he hadn’t expected them to be. “Cut the crap, Erickson, before I cut off your balls and serve them for breakfast.” Gray stared at her, holding his face rigid. Anyone looking their way would think she was flirting. She wasn’t. “What the hell are you doing here, Joey?” he demanded in a low growl, not sure he really wanted to know. She forced another flirty smile, then slanted over the bar again. “You know the answer to that. This isn’t funny and you’re drawing unnecessary attention to us. If you’re trying to tell me you want back in my pants, forget it. Been there, done that and won’t be going on that ride again. Now tell me, do you have anything on the old bat yet?” Back in her pants? Not hardly. He’d been the one to end their relationship. Gray ran his gaze over her. Long curly red hair, big green eyes that weren’t as immune to him as she professed and a body that attested to long hours in the gym. Nothing soft about Joey. She was tough and wanted the world to know it. A sexy package for sure. But he didn’t feel the slightest bit of desire. Odd as in the past, Joey always got his juices flowing. Too bad she also got too attached for his comfort level and he ended things before their working relationship became strained.

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Sensing he was being watched, he looked up. Sophia perched in the doorway to a backstage entrance. Her eyes darkened but she averted her gaze before he had time to reassure her with a smile. “Shit.” “Who is she?” Joey asked with the aplomb that she had every right to know. “Why do you want to know?” She looked upward as if it were all she could do to keep from wrapping her hands around his throat. “She’s the tight-ass niece you told me about last week?” Silence grew thick with tension. “You’re sleeping with her.” It wasn’t a question. A look of satisfaction curled her glossy red lips. “Still using the same old tricks, I see. Good. Maybe screwing you will loosen her tongue in more ways than one. Use her to find out whatever you can.” A cold knot formed in his stomach. He was using Sophia. This afternoon, well, he had used her. To satisfy his sexual itch. To satisfy the ache she caused deep within him. Not that she had. He yearned for her even more now that he knew the heights she brought him to. Use her? Yeah, he had but hell if he liked hearing someone else say it. He ground his teeth to keep from defending Sophia’s honor. He couldn’t. Joey would latch onto anything he said like a dog with a bone. Green eyes narrowed suspiciously. Her smile faded at his continued silence. What did she see on his face? Whatever it was she apparently didn’t approve. “You know, something about you is different.” A look of skepticism passed over her face. “I can’t put my finger on it, nor can I believe I’m saying this to you, you, icecold Erickson, for Christ’s sake but don’t let her pretty little face keep you from doing what you’re really here to do. And just for the record, it ain’t her. Her warming your bed is just an added bonus.” She picked up her mug. Chugging the contents in one long guzzle, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand in a most unladylike way and slapped the glass down on the bar top. “If you screw this up, I’ll kick your ass.” With that she weaved her way through the throng of squealing women waving money in the air while they tried to catch the current stripper’s attention. Gray raked his fingers through his hair and took a quick glance at the money Joey tucked into his waistband. Lawrence wanted Joey backstage. Damn. She would be part of the backup team on Saturday night and would need to be as familiar with the place and employees as possible. How was he supposed to get her backstage without raising suspicions? Somehow he didn’t think Sophia would go for him bringing Joey backstage under the guise of a quickie. He glanced to Sophia. His gaze collided with tumultuous violet eyes. Immediately she turned toward where Fireman Freddie dangled his hose this way and that way on

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stage. From the look on her face, Freddie wasn’t the only one who’d be putting out fires tonight. Sophia was pissed and he expected her anger to grow by leaps and bounds when he brought Joey backstage.

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Chapter Eight Who was the redheaded woman and why did Gray look as guilty as sin? Sophia stared unseeingly at the hunky fireman starting more fires than he was putting out based upon the audience’s squeals of delight. Tears pricked her eyes. Tears of jealousy. And fear? Despite the make-her-toes-curl sex from this afternoon Gray was a mystery. He sure acted familiarly with the redhead. Did he know her? Maybe she was someone from his past. Had they had something going prior to Sophia arriving on the scene? Arriving on the scene? Ha, for all she knew, they could still be involved. The woman had a body that would make Lara Croft drool with envy. And she exuded self-confidence. Bet she didn’t make a bumbling mess of almost everything she attempted. Raw emotion clenched Sophia’s insides. Both nauseating and fearful. She didn’t want to feel this way. Never had she felt any jealousy over Nate and they’d been engaged. Yet, she felt wildly possessive of Gray. He was hers. Not that he knew it or would say the same but darn it, a man who could make a woman orgasm like there was no tomorrow deserved to be held on to. So who was the redhead? The only way to know was to ask. Smiling, she visited with one group of ladies and then the next. Methodically she made her way closer and closer to the redhead’s rambunctious table. “Hello, ladies. I’m the manager on duty tonight. Are you having a good time?” “Oh yes.” A pudgy brunette waved her hands excitedly, squealing for the stripper to make his way in her direction. “A grand time.” “Good.” She turned to the redhead, hoped she wasn’t too obvious and wondered if the woman worked as a personal trainer. Maybe to some country music star. Or at one of the many gyms Sophia saw advertised around town. She’d never seen a woman so tough, yet so undeniably feminine. Except maybe on television. “And you?” she asked, staring into amused green eyes rimmed with lashes so impossibly thick they appeared fake but weren’t. “Splendid.” A wry humor snaked through the word. She could be showing sarcasm or she could be having the time of her life. “Anything I can do to make your evening more enjoyable, just let me know.”

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“Will do.” The woman leaned back in her seat, watching Sophia closely. Her calculating eyes took on a shiny gleam. “There is one thing.” Sophia’s breath caught. She wasn’t going to like this. “Yes?” “The bartender.” The woman wrapped a red curl around her finger, drawing out the suspense of what she might ask. Sophia’s lungs threatened to explode from lack of oxygen while she waited. “He’s not available, is he?” The curl sprang free, its recoil simulating the emotional boomerang firing within Sophia. “Uhm, we don’t intrude on employees’ personal lives.” She choked back the lump in her throat, choked back the urge to rip out the woman’s hair—not that she’d manage to do anything but get her butt kicked if she tried. “You’d have to ask him.” The woman smiled. “I think I will. He’s quite yummy, isn’t he?” Sophia followed the woman’s gaze to where Gray mixed drinks for three women standing at the bar and eyeing him. They found him “quite yummy” too. For that matter, he was quite yummy. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced in her direction and paused mid-motion. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Sophia looked away, only to crash into the redhead’s scrutiny. Sophia gritted her teeth. She was being toyed with. “Yes. Yummy. We hire only the best.” God, she sounded pathetic. An idiot would realize she had feelings for Gray. The redhead’s gaze held way too much intelligence for her not to see right through Sophia’s overly bright tone. She drew her shoulders up straight, looked the woman square in the eyes and smiled. “You really should catch our show Saturday night. He’s going to be on stage.” “To strip?” Sophia hadn’t thought anything could faze the woman but her eyes rounded with disbelief and her voice went several pitches higher. Good, she liked seeing the redhead wasn’t as impervious as she looked. “Yes, it’ll be a real treat.” “You ain’t saying.” The woman smiled a look similar to what the cat that swallowed the canary must have resembled. “Erickson taking off his clothes on stage. Now this I have to see.” She’d called Gray by name. “We’ll look forward to seeing you Saturday night.” “Hell yeah, I’ll be here.” The redhead slapped her hand against the table, hard. Surprisingly, the table didn’t crash to the floor but the other women at the table practically leaped out of their seats. “Bet I have some buddies that’ll want to see this too.” Her long red curls caught in the light when she threw her head back and burst out laughing.

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Sophia covered her frown with a pasted-on smile and said her goodbyes, moved to another table and ran through her spiel. Having actually spoken with the redhead hadn’t given her any reassurance. Just the opposite. But, oh yeah, she could see why a man like Gray would be attracted to her. Why any man would. A real life redheaded Lara Croft. “Sophia?” Speaking of the devil. Turning, she stared into his eyes. Eyes full of questions. And guilt. Something definitely transpired between him and the redhead. The dog. And so quickly after bedding, er, sofa-ing her. Sure hadn’t taken him long to find his next lay. If that’s what he’d done, she reminded herself not to convict him without sufficient evidence. Unable to speak without letting her green-eyed monster roar with jealousy, Sophia averted her attention back to the stage. “Look at me,” Gray demanded. She couldn’t do more than watch Geronimo hoot and holler on stage and ignore that her eyes stung. “I’m an Indian outlaw,” the current stripper mouthed while he shook his tomahawk in the air. “I was just talking to her.” Sure he was and the Indians had kicked the cowboys’ butts. “Sophia, I didn’t do anything wrong.” If he hadn’t looked so guilty, she might believe him. “Talk to me, damn it. Part of my job is to keep the customers happy. All my customers are women, you know that.” Sophia nodded. He was right. Flirting with women was part of his job. But the redhead was more than a customer. Gray knew her. She knew Gray. Biblically? No, she didn’t want to know the answer to that. Hell, she already knew the answer. Yes. Darn it. “What would you have me do? To have told her to get lost? That wouldn’t be good business.” “Who?” she asked just to be contrary. After all, she hadn’t said a word about anything or anyone. But he’d known. Because he was a guilty dog. And would he stop being so logical? Stop making so much sense? She didn’t want to let go of her anger. She needed it to wrap protectively around her heart. “So-fee-ah.” His frustration echoed in his tone. “What?” “I didn’t flirt back.” “Back?” She latched onto his choice of words. “So, she issued an invitation?”

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Not that she hadn’t known. She’d seen the suggestive way the woman smiled at Gray. The way she whispered in his ear. The guilty one ran his hand through his dark hair. Images from this afternoon when it had been her hands snaking through the silky strands flashed. Darn. She didn’t need those kinds of thoughts right now. Not if she wanted to resist him. “Of sorts but not the kind you’re assuming.” “Oh really? Just what kind of invitation was she issuing?” She quirked her brow. Indecision crept into his expression. “Does it matter? I’m working in a male strip club. I’m going to be propositioned, Sophia. If I’m really good at my job, lots of women will proposition me. That is what you want, for me to do my job so well Heavenly Hunks will have lots of repeat business, right?” Damn his logic. “Do you know her?” “Yes but before you say anything, just remember I can’t tell her not to come here just because I know her.” He told the truth. She could see it in his eyes. “I’ll be polite to her and every other woman for the simple reason it’s my job.” She hesitated. The man’s reason left her without argument. Which she found frustrating in and of itself. She wanted to be angry at him for the exchange with the redhead bombshell but he was right. He had only been doing his job. Just one of the follies of sleeping with a man who made his living by working in a strip club. She was being ridiculous and petty. They never agreed to an exclusive relationship anyway. Actually, they never discussed their relationship at all. Did she even want to discuss it? Sex with Gray was a complete aberration from everything about her life up to the point of when she’d come to Nashville. If she went back to Atlanta, a relationship with Gray would never work. Best thing for her to do was to enjoy every moment she had with him and to quit analyzing their relationship so closely. It wasn’t as if she didn’t already have plenty of fodder for analyzing. Her aunt’s books were positively lethal. “Okay.” She met his gaze and had to steady herself at the eagerness for forgiveness in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of a beautiful woman hitting on you and seeing returned interest in your eyes.” He flashed a quick grin. “Jealous?” “Yes.” She hated admitting it. And hated even worse that he didn’t deny interest in the woman. “Don’t be.” He touched her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You’re the only woman I want.” For right now. His unspoken words hung between them. Her heart flip-flopped and, if she’d not known before, the truth became crystal clear.

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Whether she wanted him to or not, whether he’d fit into her life or not, Gray meant much more to her than just a short fling.

***** “Come on, Joey.” Gray ignored the knowing wink from the bouncer at the employee only entrance and looked back at his grinning coworker. “We don’t have all night.” Joey’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Why? You afraid your girlfriend’s going to catch us together?” Damn straight but he wasn’t telling her that. “Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to explaining why I’m back here with you.” “Why not just use the same ploy we usually use and pretend we’re making out? That’s always worked in the past.” Why indeed? “Because of Sophia.” “Because of the case, you mean?” “Yeah,” he agreed. “She’s important to the case and we can’t rock the boat.” Joey laughed but didn’t comment. “I’m out of here.” She didn’t need him with her. They weren’t doing reconnaissance work. Joey needed a good feel of the layout of the building before Saturday night. Just in case. Although he fully expected her to do some snooping as well. Not that she’d find anything. He’d already given the place several going-overs and had found very little useful information. “Leaving so soon?” she teased, ridiculously fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay and play, Erickson?” “Just remember,” he warned. “If you get caught, you’re on your own.”

***** “Are you still upset?” Gray asked Sophia much later while he finished restocking his supplies. He glanced at where she waited, propped against the inside of the bar. Joey hadn’t gotten caught or had covered well since no one mentioned a redhead backstage. She left the club soon after returning to the main area of the club. Best as Gray could tell, Sophia didn’t know about his brief disappearance backstage. He planned to keep it that way. “Not really.” Sophia toyed with a napkin holder on the bar. “But you have doubts?”

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“A lot of women flirt with you. There was something different about the redhead. You looked at her with interest.” Her shoulders hunched and she didn’t meet his eyes. “Not that I blame you, she’s gorgeous.” Gray flexed his jaw, trying to figure out the best way to explain why he’d been looking at Joey. Somehow, he doubted admitting the truth would help. That if his hunch was right her aunt’s club was a front for a drug ring and that he was here to bring that ring down. With the redhead’s help. And although Joey was a coworker, yes, he’d had sex with her. But that had been a long time ago and hadn’t meant anything to him. Nope, the explicit truth wouldn’t get him back into Sophia’s good graces and that’s where he wanted to be. For the case. Nothing more. Except maybe more sex. Okay, the case and more sex. “All closed up and I’m headed out.” Robbie the Rocket interrupted when he came through the backstage door. Gray nodded in the man’s direction and couldn’t help but think the guy was way too chipper for this time of night. Maybe it was just his own foul mood at thoughts that after he and Sophia had finally had sex, Joey would choose tonight to show and screw things up. Still, Sophia was talking to him and he’d grovel or do just about anything to feel her thighs around him again—um, to solve this case. Anything to solve the case, not to have sex with Sophia. “Night, Robbie,” Sophia called. “Lock the back door on your way out, please.” “Will do, Miss Sophia.” The man winked, saluted and left through a back hallway. “Miss Sophia?” Sophia looked taken back. “The guys have been calling you that since right after you first arrived.” Gray closed the distance between them now that they were truly alone in the club. He had some making up, sucking up, kissing her ass to do. Anything for the case. “Oh. Makes me feel ancient.” She didn’t touch him. Not for a caress. Not to push him away. “Who was she?” He sighed. Oh yeah, he’d be doing some groveling. “Does it matter?” “Do you find her attractive?” “Not anymore.” Gray could have kicked himself the moment the words left his stupid mouth. “Meaning you did at one time?” Frank curiosity shone in her violet eyes. Along with a cool reserve that he’d not seen since before he’d kissed her. She was trying to shut him out. After this afternoon? Hell no. “Yes.” He wouldn’t lie. Not unless he had too. He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. “I’ve had sex with her but not in a long time. Is that what you wanted to hear, Sophia?” Sophia’s mouth clamped shut. “Because I personally think some things are better left unsaid.” Even in the low light, he could tell her face paled. Shit. He shouldn’t

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have lost his cool. “She means nothing to me.” He wasn’t sure why it was so important she understood but it was. “Never really did. We used each other for sex.” Her head whipped up. “Great. You have a history of meaningless sex with a gorgeous woman who flirted with you tonight. Now that makes me feel better,” she insisted with a great deal of passion. “Do you wish you were still with her?” “No.” “How could you not?” Enough was enough. He pulled Sophia to him. “How could you ask after this afternoon? Yesterday afternoon? I’m not sure what to say, Sophia. Not sure what you want me to say. I don’t want to be with her. If I did, I would be.” Sophia opened her mouth to protest. Gray gave up trying to convince her verbally. If she wouldn’t listen to what his words were telling her, maybe she’d listen to what his kiss said. His mouth covered hers. At first, she held perfectly still in his embrace. Which he considered a plus since he’d half expected her to push him away. Or hit him over the head again. With a need that burned deep, he kissed her. The moment she relaxed against him, Gray took the kiss to a deeper level. Keeping the movements of his lips gentle but demanding, he pried her lips apart and thrust his tongue inside. She tasted like strawberries. Sweet, sweet strawberries. Had she been eating candy? He supped the sugary sweetness from the recesses of her mouth and would swear something zapped him. Talk about an electrifying kiss. With each flick of his tongue, Sophia’s body melted into his a little more. Finally, she acquiesced and slipped her hands around his neck. Smugness and humility assaulted him at the way she accepted his caress. He lifted his mouth, hovering close to her lips. “Does that feel like the kiss of a man who wants to be with anyone other than the woman in his arms?” Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths as she stared at him before answering. “No.” “Because it’s not.” He dropped another kiss on her full lips. “Let’s go upstairs.” She hesitated. Damn, he didn’t know what else to say. He wanted Sophia. Of all the suggestive looks he’d received from the multitude of women who came to the club, none had even slightly sexually interested him. Only Sophia. “Forgive me for whatever it is I should’ve handled different that’s upset you.” Her eyes closed. “I want you,” he whispered. “I want you too.” Her soft answer tore into his chest and grasped hold of his heart. “And it scares me.” He touched her face and gently held her, searching for the right words to ease her mind about Joey, to tell her how she, Sophia, made him feel. And, he realized he 82

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couldn’t possibly find them since he couldn’t label the way he reacted to everything about her. “I’ll never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” Her eyes remained closed and he felt the tremble that shook through her. “Do you believe me?” She nodded. “Then trust me to do what’s right. I can’t make promises of what the future holds. All I can give is the here and now.” He dropped a kiss onto her right eyelid, causing her eyes to blink open. “It’s all I have, Sophia but my present belongs to you.” It scared the hell out of him that he couldn’t imagine a future without her but knew that when everything came into the open she wasn’t going to be happy with him. Not when she didn’t even know who he really was. A man who would likely put her aunt behind bars. Sophia too, if she was involved or tried to stand in the way of his case. Trust him, he said. She shouldn’t trust him because when all was said and done, he’d betray that trust and she would be hurt.

***** Sophia pulled back to stare at Gray in the lowered lighting. The shadows darkening his face had little to do with the club’s dimness. “Gray?” Tension rolled off him but he smiled. Sort of. “Let’s go upstairs.” She started to agree but had another idea. A better idea. If Gray would play along. This idea was a fantasy she longed to fulfill. It had been on her mind ever since his first strip lesson. “No.” They both needed to relax. To get past this first little bump in their relationship or affair or whatever it was they were having. What better way than a little fantasy role-playing? He raked a hand through his midnight hair, the disarrayed locks absurdly sexy. “Sophia.” She shook her head, smiling. “Not that. Look around.” She motioned at the empty club. “I’d like to stay right here. With you.” Interest flared. “Oh?” “Yes.” She loved how his tension visibly eased. Loved how much better she felt letting go of the green monster within. Gray tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just what do you have in mind, boss lady?” “I want to act out a fantasy.” His throat worked. “A fantasy?”

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“I want to pretend to be one of your customers.” She grinned, enjoying the heated anticipation in his eyes. “I’m listening.” “I want to order a drink.” “Anything in particular you’d like?” Her fingertips trailed down the strong lines of his throat, thrilling at the way his pulse raced. “What would you suggest?” “Screaming Orgasm?” Gray’s breathing labored. His chest rose and fell in excited fervor. Good. Sophia wanted him totally enraptured in their role-playing. “Mmm, sounds like just what I need to quench my…thirst.” “I love my job.” Sophia laughed and she pressed her palm against his thundering heart. “I’d say you’re going to have to work really hard tonight.” She batted her lashes. “Hope that’s not a problem.” “No problem.” He grinned. “Think it’ll earn me extra tips?” “Depends what kind of tips you’re referring too.” She brushed her breasts against his chest, letting him know what tips she meant. The cotton of her bra provided friction against her already sensitive nipples. How was it possible for one man to make her feel so sexy? So decadent? So daring? So unlike the shell of a person she’d always been? “I think I’m more into fringe benefits than monetary compensation.” “Did you say French benefits?” she murmured before kissing him in a fashion that would make any Parisian proud. “If you want your fantasy, you’d better get your bottom around to the other side of the bar. Now,” he growled. “Otherwise I’m going to act out a fantasy of my own and have you right here, right now, on the bar.” She glanced meaningfully at the smooth countertop. What would it feel like to give Gray his fantasy? Orgasmic. “Go. Before I change my mind.” He swatted her bottom. “I’ll be right back.” She scooted from behind the bar and turned to wink provocatively. “For the record, just being with you fulfills my fantasies.” His eyes darkened to stormy clouds, threatening to spill their passion any moment, to rain his possession over her. Sophia disappeared into the ladies room, flipped on the light and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was almost one in the morning. She should be tired. Instead her skin glowed and her eyes were wide with excitement. She should be emotionally exhausted too. She’d gone from a green-eyed monster worried about her fragile link to a man she was quickly falling for to a woman determined to enjoy every precious second she had with him.

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Even if it was only for a few short days. Because once her aunt was discharged from the hospital and Strip or Treat had passed, she’d have no choice but to confront her aunt about the books. When she did that all hell was likely to break loose. She’d enjoy her little slice of heaven while she could. Releasing her hair from its clip, she shook out her shoulder-length tresses, liking the tousled, just-from-bed look. She undid her blouse’s top three buttons, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. Why had she always dressed to hide her body under clothes meant to say sophistication rather than sexy? Because that’s what had been expected. Well, tonight wasn’t about other people’s expectations, particularly her mother’s expectations. Tonight fantasies ruled. She smiled at her image in the mirror, liking the woman staring back more than was logical. Her fantasy image. Puckering up, she blew a kiss at her reflection and floated out of the bathroom. Time to go live a fantasy. Or two.

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Chapter Nine What a turn of events. Gray loosened his bowtie. Sophia had gone from spitting mad to playful temptress in a few heartbeats. She wanted to act out a sexual fantasy. With him. Going backstage, he flicked the music system back on. A seductive beat filled the club. He’d barely gotten behind the bar again when Sophia stepped into the room. Hot damn. Every nerve ending in his body surged to attention. She looked hot and needy and wanton. He burned, needed and wanted. Hips swinging, she sashayed up to the bar and fluttered her impossibly long lashes. “Fix me a drink, stranger?” Gray swallowed and wondered if he’d be able to do more than yank her onto the bar. Her expression had “do me” written all over it. But he hesitated. He wanted to give her fantasy to her even more than he wanted to ease the ache in his groin. “What’ll you have, Miss?” he croaked out. Maybe he’d pour himself a drink too. Anything to wet his dry mouth. He bet Sophia was wet. “Uhm.” She placed her fingertip over her lower lip and dragged it back and forth while pretending to be lost in thought. Gray watched, mesmerized by her mouth’s plumpness. “Something sweet, yet tangy,” she decided. “Something wet?” She smiled, closed her eyes and licked her lips. Slow and sensual, as if the touch of her tongue running over her lips might send her into ecstasy. “Sex on the Beach?” he suggested, leaning forward. Her lilac scent enveloped him, seducing him further. Her eyelids flickered. Velvety violet invited him to take what he wanted. “Do you mean Sex on the Bar?” she purred. “I’ve heard that’s every bartender’s fantasy.” Gray gulped. “That would be a helluva good start.” “Hmm.” She ran her fingers down the collar of her shirt, resting her fingertips tantalizingly in the vee at her breasts. Gray’s gaze followed her actions with rapt interest. “Personally, I was thinking more along the lines of that Screaming Orgasm you mentioned earlier.” Her lower lip pouted ever so slightly. “Good choice.” 86

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Again, she batted her lashes. A stirring mixture of vixen and innocent played upon her face. “You know, until two nights ago on your sofa, no one had ever given me an orgasm, much less one worthy of screams.” “No, I didn’t know.” Why did the knowledge he’d been the first to share that experience with Sophia make him feel so smug? Sweat beaded at his brow. “A damn shame since a woman like you was made for mindless pleasure.” “You think?” “I know.” Gray mixed her drink, feeling her watchful gaze on his every move. He snuck a glance. A smile curled onto her lips and she twirled a twig of hair around her finger. “So, how long have you worked here, Mr. Bartender?” “A few months, Miss Customer.” “Bet the ladies loooove you.” She pulled her finger free of her hair and traced the neckline of her shirt. “A few.” “Get propositioned often?” He hesitated only a second. “Occasionally.” “Ever say yes?” “The right woman hasn’t asked. Yet.” Her hand stilled. “You have someone particular in mind?” “Definitely.” He finished mixing her drink and plopped a cherry, then two, into the glass. “She’d be tall, blonde and as sexy as hell.” “Uhm.” “Cool and dry on the outside like a martini. Hot and wild at the core like a shot of the finest Tennessee whiskey.” He set her drink in front of her, watched while she toyed with the red swizzle stick shaped like a sword. “This woman. How will you know it’s her when she propositions you?” She twirled the stick in her mouth and sucked the drops off the lucky plastic blade. “I’ll know.” His answer rumbled from deep in his chest. “Humor me.” Dipping the tiny straw back into the glass, she repeated her actions and licked the straw clean. “How will you know?” She was good at this fantasy stuff. “She’ll look me in the eyes.” He looked her in the eyes. “And she’ll ask me to lick her all over, to drink whiskey from her belly button, to sip her intoxicating nectar.” Sophia’s eyes darkened, her lips parted. She wiggled against the large plastic man’s hand seat cupping her bottom. Lucky chair. He waited for her response and wasn’t disappointed.

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“Mr. Bartender.” Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth. “I think I need to be licked all over.” “You think?” he mocked her early reply. “I know.” A smile played on her lips. “And?” “I’d like you to drink whiskey from my bellybutton.” “And?” Would she think him a barbarian if he ripped her pants away and sheathed himself inside her? “I want you between my legs.” Apparently not. They seemed to be on the same wavelength. Gray steadied himself, tamping down the fierce desire to take her hard and fast. “Remove your shirt, Miss Customer.” Sophia unfastened the tiny pearl buttons on her shirt and carelessly dropped the cream colored silk into the next chair. Gray drank in the beauty of her breasts displayed in a pale satin bra. Her nipples puckered beneath the shiny material and he longed to taste them but he’d wait. Anticipation heightened his awareness. When he finally did touch her, he’d likely combust. They both would. Her shoes dropped to the floor with soft thuds. “I do feel overdressed.” She eyed his bare chest. “I didn’t realize the dress code was the less, the better.” She stood and shimmied off her pants. Gray’s breath caught at the lovely vision she made, wishing he could see the full effect of her legs uncovered. What he could see sent his blood pressure soaring. With a saucy smile, she plopped into her seat and wiggled her satin-covered bottom back and forth. “Oh, this is nice.” “It gets better.” She arched a dark blonde brow. “Better?” “Heavenly Hunks aims to please.” “Customer service is priority number one?” “Always. We pride ourselves on our outstanding customer satisfaction.” “So, if I accidentally spilt my drink, you’d clean it up? No complaints?” Sweet heavens. Without looking into her mischievous eyes he knew where she was going with that one. “With a smile on my face.” And his cock so hard it would cut glass. She lifted her glass and poured a tiny stream of the liquid right down the center of her breasts. A trickle ran through the sweet valley and headed south, disappearing into her navel.

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“Oops.” Her gaze rose to his. “I’m so clumsy.” “No problem, Miss Customer. Lean forward and I’ll clean you right up.” Steadying the barstool, she tucked her feet beneath her bottom and did as he asked. “Looks like you’re up for any challenge that might come along.” Was she just now noticing that? “Absolutely. It’s a tough life but somebody’s got to do it. Without a doubt, I’m the right man for this job.” Gray bent and, without touching her, nuzzled her breasts. He inhaled, filling his lungs with the intoxicating scent of lilac, Screaming Orgasm and Sophia. She shivered and he traced his tongue over the juicy path she created. Sophia tasted of heaven. Or how heaven would taste if it had a flavor. With precise, slow motions he licked her sticky sweet skin. He licked until his tongued darted into the shadows of the crevice her breasts made. Sophia moaned, her back arching in response to his touch. “There’s certainly something to be said for great customer service.” “You’ll have to be sure to put in a good word for me with my boss.” “What would you have me tell her?” “That I’m a good clean-up man,” he suggested, still lapping at her skin. “Well, you halfway did the job.” “I’m not finished. Doing things properly requires time, patience and attention to detail.” He looped his hands under her arms and lifted her onto the bar. Grasping her hips, he bent and plunged his tongue into her navel. The sugary flavor of her drink pleased his senses but not as much as the natural taste of her skin. Sweet femininity. Sweet Sophia. Flattening his tongue, he swept up the succulent path her drink had traveled. He sipped all remains of the alcoholic concoction from her stomach and lifted his head to look at her. Kneeling, head thrown back, eyes closed, she was a vision to behold. Gray beheld. He reached behind and unclasped her bra. The silky material fell to the sleek countertop revealing creamy round globes of perfection with pink-tipped nipples. “You’re beautiful.” Her eyes flickered open and she smiled. “Complimenting the customers. Your boss should be proud.” “Yes, she should. She’s a stunning woman.” Tempted though he was to kiss her straining peaks, he resisted. Looping his fingers around her panties, he pulled them down. Sophia stood up on the bar to ease their removal. He feasted on her long, curvy body so perfectly displayed for him. From his viewpoint, no woman should be prouder than Sophia. He ran his gaze upward, caressing each curve, each delectable part of her body. “Damn.” “What?”

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He half expected her to cover herself with her hands but she didn’t. She waited, letting him look long and hard. And he was. Very long and particularly very hard. “You.” He shook his head admiringly, then whistled. “You’re hot, Sophia. Damn hot.” A blush crept into her cheeks. “Thank you but I haven’t given you my name.” There for a second he’d forgotten their game. No wonder. “Sorry, Miss Customer.” He folded his arms and visually embraced her from head to toe. “Maybe I should give you free dancing tips to make up for my lapse.” “Dancing tips?” She looked intrigued by the idea. “This is an exotic dance club,” he reminded. “Uhm,” she considered his request. “Dance for me.” “Is that a usual request to make of a customer?” she asked but her hips swayed gently to the rhythm of the music. “Dancing instruction is a perk we provide only to special customers.” “I’m a special customer?” Her hands rubbed down her breasts, lower to her trim waist while her body barely moved but kept time to the rhythm of the music. “You’re definitely a VIP.” He touched her calf and massaged his way to her thigh. He kneaded and rubbed the smooth silk of her skin. “Dance for me.” Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. She’d probably refuse any second. Gray’s breath caught when, eyes closed, her body’s tempo picked up. He wished she still had on her heels. That would complete his fantasy image of Sophia naked and dancing on the bar. He’d never set a drink on the bar without remembering how her long legs looked, her shapely hips, her tiny waist, her generous breasts. Gray kissed one knee, then the other, trailed kisses over her calves, her thighs. He clasped her hands and slowly pulled her to her knees. “You’ve not met all my criteria yet,” he reminded her. He picked up her drink and poured the sticky liquid into her navel. Her eyes widened. The fluid trickled lower until blonde curls lapped up the rivulets. Gray bent and sucked the droplets from her navel and worked his way along the juicy path. “Delicious.” “Are you saying you make a great Screaming Orgasm?” “Give me a few minutes and I will,” he promised. She gasped. “Spread your legs for me, Sophia.” He grabbed her buttocks, pulled her hips forward and buried his face. She did.

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Over and over, he stroked her clit with his tongue. Stroked until she panted his name. “What?” “More. I want more,” she begged. “More?” “Touch me, Gray.” She demanded, thrusting her hips. “Touch me now.” He slipped a finger into her wetness. God, she was so tight and hot. Immediately, her vaginal walls contracted around him. Intense and convulsive. “Gray,” she cried when her orgasm racked her. Her hands clasped onto his shoulders for support. Her nails dug into his flesh. He pressed his free hand against her bottom to steady her but the rhythm he applied to her clitoris never wavered. Not until he tasted her release. As with her first screaming orgasm, he licked her clean, savoring every sweet drop. “Delicious,” he repeated when he lifted his head. Her eyes were glazed over, her chest heaved and her inner thighs glistened. “I think you get an A plus in customer satisfaction,” she whispered. “I aim to please.” His chest swelled with pride that he’d made her come so completely. “I’m very pleased.” She moistened her lips, then pouted. “Well, almost.” “Almost?” “Uh-hum.” Eyes locked with his, she upped the stakes of their sexual game. “I’m going to make you come while you serve the other customers.” “Other customers?” She frowned. “Play along, Gray.” He didn’t remind her that he hadn’t given his name. To do so might distract her from her objective. Only a fool would risk that. She draped her legs over the edge of the bar and he couldn’t help himself, he wrapped them around his waist. “I’ll do anything you like, Miss Customer.” She rewarded him with a smile. “Then set me down.” He kissed her first. Hard. A mind-drugging kiss. When their mouths parted his midsection throbbed with need to slide into her slick folds. He had protection. Not that tucked inside his lace-up black leather boot was the best place to keep a condom but in his work uniform there wasn’t space anywhere else. When he lowered Sophia to the floor, she grinned. “Now remember, you’re working. No one can know I’m back here with you. If someone discovers you’re playing hanky-panky with one of the customers, you’ll be fired. Stand your ground, pretend I’m not here and serve your paying customers while I pay homage to my favorite bartender.”

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“Okay,” Gray agreed, hoping she was going to do what he thought she was going to do. She dropped to her knees and grazed her palms over his thighs, his hips. Hot damn. “Where’s the zipper on these things?” she asked after several failed attempts to find access along his front and middle. “The side.” He shifted his left hip forward. “Guess whoever designed these wanted to make sure none of the goods got caught, ’cause there sure as hell isn’t a way to wear briefs under them. I tried that my first night on the job and, believe me, it doesn’t work.” She laughed softly while she slid down the zipper. “Okay, quiet. Serve your customers. Chitchat with them.” Talk to nonexistent customers? When her hands wrapped around his cock, he decided he’d do anything she liked. He began to babble. What he said, he didn’t have a clue. He probably didn’t even make sense but if Sophia wanted “chitchat” then “chitchat” she’d get. Just so long as she kept doing what she was doing. Her fingertips stroked him, teased him, encircled him and pumped his shaft back and forth. His heart pounded in his chest. His pulse hammered through his body. His cock throbbed for release. When her mouth slid over his engorged tip, he grasped hold of the edge of the bar. His knees weakened to water. His thighs quaked with need. “Sophia,” he growled when her head bobbed back and forth, taking him deeper with each dip of her magnificent mouth. She paused and scowled up at him. “You’re not supposed to be talking to me.” “And you’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full.” He clenched his teeth, resumed his incoherent babble. Fine, he’d talk nonsense until real customers appeared. Or until someone locked him up for insanity. ’Cause Sophia was driving him insane. Pleasurably insane. He watched her perform her magic. Her slim fingers cupped his balls and gently massaged them while her tongue circled over the ridge of his penis. Cheeks hollowed out, she sucked him. Gray forgot to babble but Sophia was too caught up to notice. Or if she did, she no longer cared. His finger twined in her soft blonde hair and guided her movements. Harder, faster he pumped into her mouth until his balls contracted. “Sophia, I’m going to come,” he warned and let go of her head, not sure what she intended but leaving the choice to her. He knew what he wanted, craved. The room dimmed, bursts of light exploded in front of him. She never slowed.

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“My God, Sophia.” His voice didn’t sound his own when the words rasped from him. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her to her feet. She smiled. “That was amazing.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are amazing.” And it scared him just how true that was. Never had he completely lost his senses during sex. Had the building burned down around them, he didn’t think he’d have noticed. “You liked?” she asked, looking uncertain and in need of reassurance. “You have to ask?” “Not really.” She grinned. “Ready to go upstairs?” He was pretty sure he’d go any damn where she asked.

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Chapter Ten “She called you?” Eliza Walker’s brown eyes so unlike her daughter’s widened at Nate’s revelation. “Yes.” Nate covered his lingering surprise at his secretary announcing that Sophia’s mother waited to see him. “She’s come to her senses, then and plans to take you back. Thank God.” The petite woman sighed and sank into the leather chair across from Nate’s immaculate desk. “Actually, she quite emphatically said she wouldn’t be changing her mind.” He hadn’t been able to sleep last night for Sophia’s words floating through his mind. Atlanta had stifled her. The elegant but controlling woman in his office had stifled her. Had he too? “What?” Eliza’s spine stiffened ramrod straight. “Just wait until that girl gets back. I’m going to give her a good talking-to. What can she possibly be thinking?” “Sophia isn’t a girl. She’s a grown woman. And coming back was another thing she mentioned.” Although not in the way Eliza hoped. “She’s coming back?” How much should he tell her? Despite their differences, Eliza loved Sophia. And was worried about her. “Not that she said.” “Oh.” Disappointment clouded Eliza’s face but ever the one to maintain a proper image, she quickly pasted on a smile. “Well, no matter. She’ll be home soon enough. Just as soon as that she-devil recovers.” He’d known Sophia’s aunt wasn’t well thought of but the venom in Eliza’s voice dripped poison. Surely, the aunt wasn’t that bad? He recalled Sophia’s concerns about the books. Could she be in danger? “This aunt Sophia is visiting, what’s she like?” “I told you, she’s a living, breathing she-devil.” Nate practically flinched from the viciousness of Eliza’s tone. “This is your husband’s sister you’re talking about,” he reminded her. An odd look pinched her face. Her gaze dropped to her shaking hands. “Thank God none of that woman’s blood runs through my veins.” “You forget. Her blood does flow through your daughter.” “No, that’s something I never forget.” Eliza’s perfectly made-up face aged ten years before him. Well, hell. Was the aunt really evil incarnate?

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“If you think so badly of this woman, why is Sophia staying at her apartment? And why is she running her strip club?” “I tried to convince her not to go but she wouldn’t listen.” Her flawlessly manicured hands wrung together in a telling motion. “Lately, she’s acted so strangely. Like she’s dissatisfied with her life. It’s probably that crazy IRS job. Her father and I tried to get her to go to work for him, or to do charity work like me but she’d have nothing to do with it. And I still can’t believe she broke off her engagement to you.” She turned beseeching eyes on him. “You’ve got to go get her, Nathaniel. Make her come home.” “What?” “Go to Nashville. Bring her back to Atlanta before that witch corrupts her. Please.”

***** “You took my advice, didn’t you?” Aunt Genevieve beamed minutes after Sophia entered the hospital room on Thursday morning. Large vases of sweetly scented flowers sat on the windowsill almost flooding out the antiseptic stench of hospital smell. Who had sent them? Sophia had never seen a visitor other than herself and the bouquet she sent paled in comparison to the elaborate arrangements that multiplied each morning. “Which advice would that be?” Sophia asked although she knew good and well what advice her aunt meant. “Gray Erickson.” Sophia hesitated. Although her insides glowed, did she really want to share her and Gray’s sexual fantasy marathon? “Do tell.” The eager light in Aunt Genevieve’s eyes broke into Sophia’s wall of reserve. This was her aunt, not her parents. Aunt Genevieve cared more about Sophia’s happiness than who bought what or who was moving in what social circle. “He’s incredible.” Sophia sank onto the edge of the starchy white sheet covering her aunt’s bed. “Completely and totally incredible.” “Give me details.” At Sophia’s hesitation, Aunt Genevieve chuckled. “Humor a bored old lady. There ain’t much action inside these four walls. I’m starting to go stircrazy.” Sophia eyed her aunt, noting that in addition to the scarlet gown, which contrasted brightly against the drab surroundings of her hospital room, her aunt wore makeup. Aunt Genevieve looked more alive, more vibrant. “He’s a fabulous kisser.” Was it bad to kiss and tell? She never had before but sharing with her aunt felt so…right. “Better than your boring Atlanta fiancé?” “Ex-fiancé and there’s no comparison.”

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“So.” Her aunt grinned mischievously, only the slight sag of the left side of her face giving evidence to her stroke. “Did you do the nasty in my apartment?” Had the question come from any other sixty-year-old than Aunt Genevieve, Sophia would have been shocked. “No.” She was pretty sure she was blushing when she added, “Well, not in your bed, I mean.” Her aunt’s right brow rose with a great deal of admiration showing on her face. “The stripper-pole?” A fresh wave of heat infused Sophia’s cheeks. “Not the one in your apartment.” Her aunt’s jaw dropped in pleased astonishment. “Have to say, I’m proud of you.” Proud? Had anyone ever told her that before? Especially a family member? And to think experiencing great sex was all it had taken to hear those words. “Thank you.” Sophia averted her gaze to the machinery next to her aunt’s bed. “They took out your IV.” “I’ll be going home soon. As soon as I can quit taking these stupid shots in my stomach to thin my blood. They’ve turned me into a blasted pin cushion.” Sophia cringed at the thought of what her aunt had been through, at how much worse it could have been. What if she’d lost this wonderful woman without having gotten to know her? “I’ll have to go to rehab during the week, but at least I’ll be out of this joint. Although, there is this one cute male nurse.” Aunt Genevieve winked. “He enjoyed my sponge bath more than I did.” “And you said you were bored.” Sophia laughed. “I thought your therapist fussed at you for pinching the nurse when he gave you your bath.” “Oh, she fussed but he came back for more. So what’s an old broad to do except make lemonade out of life’s lemons?” “Lemonade, huh? I’ll have to remember that.” Lord knows she’d had plenty of lemons in her life. Without thought, she leaned forward and hugged her aunt. “I’m so glad you called me.” “Me too.” Her expression sobered. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. Christmas and birthday cards ain’t no way to get to know family.” Sophia mourned all the times she’d lost by not being close to this wonderful, zestful woman. “I’m sorry, Aunt Genevieve.” “For what?” she huffed. “You ain’t done no wrong, girl.” “I should have come to visit you. It shouldn’t have taken a stroke to get me here.” “What? And risk the wrath of that wicked mother of yours?” Aunt Genevieve’s face turned as remorseful as Sophia imagined it ever got. “I should hold my tongue. She is your family, after all.” “I love her but Mother can be a bit…pushy at times.”

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“Oh?” Sophia sighed. “More and more, I’ve realized that even though I stood my ground on my career, I’m living the life she chose for me rather than one I chose for myself.” “Which is?” She shrugged. “I’m not sure but I’m fairly certain it’s not something Mother’s going to like. I’m not going to marry Nate, nor am I ever going to work for my father. I’d started taking my life back before you called but hadn’t figured out what direction I planned to take. Mother was furious, of course.” “Of course.” Sophia shared a smile with her aunt. “It’s odd but sometimes I feel like there must have been a mix-up at the hospital. I’m so different from her or Dad. I know I’m a disappointment.” Aunt Genevieve looked horrified. “You must be wrong. Any woman would be proud to have you as a daughter.” “Maybe. Regardless, Mother is likely ticked that I’ve not ‘come to my senses’ and returned to Atlanta and Nate.” “Bah. She’ll get over it. The woman deserves to be strangled for making you so worried about pleasing her.” “Oh, there’s no pleasing her.” Sophia smiled, determined to lighten the mood and not let thoughts of the account discrepancies sneak into today’s euphoria. “Now, tell me about this sponge bath. Is this something I should experience with Gray?”

***** Gray lingered in the hospital hallway until Sophia left her aunt’s room. He ducked into a doorway, ensuring that she didn’t notice him. He needed to talk to Madame G. Alone. Not that he expected her to tell him much. But his sense of urgency was growing. Questioning Sophia’s aunt seemed like a paltry enough place to start. Knocking on the door, he waited until Madame G called for him to enter. If asked, he couldn’t have said exactly what he expected to see upon entering the hospital room but Madame G in a crimson gown amid a stark white background wasn’t it. “Gray?” Her speech slurred only slightly, her face sagged almost imperceptibly and she looked regal. As always she was a striking woman. He could tell where Sophia got her good looks. Madame G’s presence dominated the room. Which come to think about it was not really saying a lot considering the only other spots of color in the room were the massive flower bouquets. “Ma’am.” His gaze swept the room, noting the fancy equipment pushed up next to her bed. Unease churned in his stomach. He got the sensation he’d been here before but

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under worse circumstances. Which was ridiculous. The only other time that he’d been inside a hospital had been when Leslie— No, now wasn’t the time for those kind of thoughts. “Not that I’m complaining to have a heavenly hunk in my room but what brings you by?” Her face brightened with a smile. “Never mind, I know.” “You do?” “I could tell the moment I looked at Sophia’s face.” “Oh?” Although, there was no doubt evidence of their lovemaking on Sophia’s body, he was positive her face wasn’t one of the spots he’d left a love bite. Possibly one of the few spots he hadn’t left his mark. “She’s crazy about you.” Madame G’s hands clapped together. “And just look at the difference in you, Gray. You don’t have to tell me. You’ve fallen for her, as well.” Not knowing what to say, Gray shifted his feet. He hadn’t come to discuss his relationship with Sophia. Especially not with her elderly aunt, who just happened to be his suspect. “Sophia isn’t why I’m here.” Her forehead wrinkled as she waited for him to continue. “Then why?” “Money is tight. I have bills to pay and not enough tips to cover them. I was hoping you might have some side jobs I could do. I’m not above doing whatever you need done. Anything.” “Well, no, I don’t but if you need the extra work, I’m sure I can find you something.” Then she beamed. “Oh, you mean stripping. Sophia told me how you’ve come through for her. A true knight in shining armor rescuing a damsel in distress. Whatta hero.” She patted her bed, indicating that she wanted him to sit beside her. He opted for the uncomfortable looking chair next to her bed. “Yeah. There is that. But I really meant more than just Saturday night. Something more lucrative.” “I’d be happy to give you all the hours you want on stage.” He hadn’t meant to but he grimaced all the same. “I was hoping for something a little more…clothed.” “Oh. I’ll talk to Sophia. See what she can come up with.” “Thanks.” Just how far could he push her before she’d become suspicious? Before she’d hint at other jobs she could offer him? Jobs involving drug sales? “I have to admit, it surprised me when Sophia told me you planned to strip. For weeks, I tried to convince you, offered a small fortune and you swore you’d rather be shot than to get on stage.” She waved her hand in the air. “But when I realized you and Sophia were an item, it all made sense.” “Made sense?”

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“Why you would suddenly change your mind. I always found your attitude regarding the club a bit confusing.” Madame G laughed. “Your distaste always lurked beneath the surface. Barely hidden.” Gray cringed. Had he been so obvious? Usually he was the best undercover agent in the bureau. What was wrong with him? Nothing about this case had gone as planned. “You thought I hadn’t noticed?” “No ma’am.” “Well, if sleeping with Sophia convinced you to do Strip or Treat, I’m all for it. Sleeping with her has been good for you. Period. Just look at you.” She waved her ringladen fingers at him. “You just suppressed a smile and don’t try to tell me otherwise ’cause I saw that snicker.” Her lips turned up in a bad girl smirk that belied her age. “I’m hoping to be released Saturday morning so I can watch your debut myself.” “My debut?” He stammered. Debut made it sound like he planned to strip longterm. He didn’t. Just as soon as he had evidence, he hoped never to step foot in a strip club again. “Oh yeah, you shaking across that stage is going to be a sight to remember. Probably do more to put life in these old bones than months of rehab.” “If you say so.” She eyed him curiously. “Why are you doing this? For Sophia?” “Partially. Mainly because I need the money. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to make some extra cash right now,” he lied. Going with his instinct, he pushed onward. “Too bad Barnes isn’t at the club anymore. He once mentioned he knew of a way I could make some quick dough.” Eyes similar to Sophia’s narrowed while they regarded him. He got the impression Madame G’s sharp old gaze didn’t miss much. “Ken?” Her words were more slurred than previously. “That boy is always out for a quick buck. You’d do well to stay away from anything he wants you to do.” “Why’s that?” Maybe he was the guilty son of a bitch after all. Madame G’s face tightened and she sighed, visibly tiring before him. “I’m sorry but I suddenly feel drained and need to rest.” Damn. He wanted to yell at her to tell him everything she knew but she closed her eyes. No amount of pushing would get her to tell him more. Not today. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” Her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter. More frustrated than when he’d arrived, Gray left her hospital room so lost in thought that he almost missed the flashy man stepping off the elevator with a huge bouquet of flowers.

99

Jana Mercy

And Elvis Constiago was a hard-to-miss sight.

***** Genevieve Walker opened one eye to make sure her hospital room was empty. Why had Gray come to see her? Although she hired him and gave him a place to live, they weren’t close. Of course, Sophia had fallen for the buff bartender and apparently Gray had feelings for her too. But there had always been something mysterious about him. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Lots of her employees didn’t list references. No big deal. Her own two eyes told her what she needed to know more than any schooling or special skills listed. Special skills never hurt though. But he’d mentioned Ken. “Hello, sunshine.” The hospital door burst open. “You’re looking lovelier than a bird dog on point this crisp fall day.” “Elvis, darling.” She cupped her hands together in glee as she smiled at the man who’d been a part of her life for the past twenty years. He put the flowers on the tray beside her bed and bent to kiss her cheek. “How are you feeling today, teddy bear?” “Better now that you’re here,” she admitted. “Did you pass Gray?” Elvis’ dyed black brow rose. “He was here? Why? With Sophia?” He smiled. “They’re getting more and more chummy every time I see them.” “I’m not sure why Gray was here. At first, I thought Sophia was why he’d come but now I’m not convinced.” She tapped a painted fingernail against her chin, grateful she no longer drooled. And if one more nurse attempted to remove her nail polish she’d scream. Damn strokes and aging bodies. “He must have waited until she left because he came in only moments later.” “He purposely avoided Sophia? Now there’s something I ain’t seen. The boy can’t keep his eyes off her at the club. Nor his hands.” The hospital bed squeaked as Elvis propped himself beside her. “I’m sure that’s what he did.” “Why?” “He was asking for extra work.” Elvis shrugged. “Guess he’s trying to impress her. Sophia’s a class act. Used to fancy beaus. Gray’s probably feeling a little insecure.” Gray insecure? Madame G shook her head. Men could be so obtuse at times. Still, she only said, “Maybe.” “Sophia didn’t tell you that she’s hound-dogging with Gray?” he asked. “She didn’t have to tell me. I’d have had to be blind not to realize what was going on between those two.”

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“True.” “Do you think he’s using her?” She clasped her fingers with his. “For sex? You’ve seen how women launch themselves at him. He could have his pick of the club most any night.” “Why did he pick Sophia?” “Why wouldn’t he?” “True. Do you think he has feelings for her?” Elvis shrugged. “Not sure it matters with that boy. When he’s ready to move on, whether or not he has feelings for Sophia won’t come into play.” “You think he’ll hurt her?” “Don’t you?” Elvis was right. No matter how much Gray appeared smitten with Sophia, he wouldn’t stick around. At which time Sophia’s heart would be broken. She’d be vulnerable for the vultures to move in. Speaking of vultures. “We’ve got to protect Sophia.” “From Gray?” “From Ken, you idiot.” Have a stroke and the world went batty around you. “If he hurts her, I’ll never forgive myself.” “He’s not been back to the club and is avoiding me like a rabbit during a dog hunt.” A dull throbbing started in her temples. The first headache she’d had since the day she’d arrived at the hospital. “I should have taken him out in a field and taught him the true meaning of rock and roll and why they call me the King.” “I know why they call you the King and it has nothing to do with anything other than what’s inside your boxers.” Elvis’ head plopped back against the hospital bed. Despite the wrinkles time etched onto his face, he was still the most handsome man she knew. “I know.” He sighed. “But I should have faced the music I made instead of letting you dance to his tune.” She placed her hand over his. “No. I won’t let you take the blame. I make my own choices. Just as Ken does.” “But it’s my fault you’re involved in this.” They’d argued about this many times. She wouldn’t push the point. They’d only end up agreeing to disagree. “Gray wants a side job,” she mused. “Maybe I should hire him to watch out for Sophia. Hopefully, Ken will lie low for a while and take that greedy accountant friend with him.” “Speaking of the accountant, Sophia’s been working on your books.”

101

Jana Mercy

“What?” Nothing good could come out of Sophia going through those blasted books. “I told her you paid someone to do them so I don’t think she’ll bother with them anymore. Especially now that Gray’s taking up all her free time.” She patted Elvis’ hand, squelching the worry within her. There wasn’t much she could do at the moment anyway. But if Gray did come back tomorrow, she’d definitely offer him a job. To keep a close eye on Sophia. Ken might want revenge for Sophia firing him and taking him out of the Strip or Treat spotlight. And, in the process, taking him off her overly generous payroll. Plus, Sophia needed to be too busy to give the accounts and her accountant another thought. Gray was just the man to keep her occupied.

102

Strip or Treat

Chapter Eleven “Who’s there?” Sophia almost threw open the apartment door in hopes Gray had returned from whatever errand he’d run. Common sense stopped her. “It’s James Hooper.” Did she know a James Hooper? She peered through the peephole. A rakish thin man who looked to be about forty-five stood outside the door impatiently eyeing his fashionably slim gold watch. Every movie she’d ever seen with a Mafia twist flashed into her head, causing the tiniest of neck hairs to stand at full attention. She hadn’t heard Gray come back up the stairs. If she needed help, no one would hear her. She squeezed the doorknob, undecidedly. Should she open the door? Lord, just look at her. She’d never been this paranoid while living in Atlanta. Of course, she’d lived with her parents in a snazzy Atlanta neighborhood but the incident with Ken had rattled her more than it merited. Her imagination was apparently working overtime. “Who are you?” she called through the door. “I’m here to do the books.” Sophia squinted through the peephole for a closer look. Could this be the person responsible for the discrepancies in her aunt’s books? That sure didn’t reassure her about letting him inside her aunt’s apartment. “Miss Walker, I do not have all day.” He checked his watch again, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited on the opposite side of the door. What was she to do? And how did he know her name? Aunt Genevieve must have given it to him. Taking a deep breath, Sophia unlatched the lock and opened the door. “Mr. Hooper.” The man’s eyes widened while he checked her out. The guy gave her the total creeps. “Call me James.” Maybe the worry of not knowing if he was robbing her aunt played into the image but from his slicked back dark hair to his pencil-slim mustache, James Hooper personified Sophia’s Hollywood created image of a Mafia bad guy. Yep, her imagination was in overdrive. Forcing a smile, she held out her hand. “Sophia Walker.” “Sophia.” She half-expected him to kiss her hand in some grand gesture but he barely shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.” Sophia just smiled. “What can I do for you, Mr. Hooper?”

103

Jana Mercy

“It’s James and I can think of lots of things you could do for me, Sophia but,” he glanced at the gold band on his wrist yet again, “I don’t have time for any of those things today. I’ve come to pick up the books.” “The books?” Why would he pick up the books? “Yes. I pick them up at my convenience, update the records and then return them the following Monday. This is how things have always been done.” His speech rushed out with more than a little annoyance at having to explain himself. “Why not do them here?” His narrowed gaze snapped to hers. “Because I do them at my office. Your aunt prefers not to pay the extra fees involved in my reconciling her accounts on the premises.” “Makes sense.” Still, she couldn’t see letting some stranger walk off with her aunt’s records. But then, it didn’t really make sense if he had to come out of his way to pick the books up. How could that save money or time? Did Aunt Genevieve usually bring the books to him? An idea struck. “You’ll excuse me while I call Aunt Genevieve to verify your request.” An impatient sigh heaved from his thin frame. “If you must.” “I must.” Keeping the accountant in sight, Sophia rang her aunt’s hospital room. “Aunt Genevieve, there’s a gentleman here, a Mr. Hooper, who says he’s to pick up the account books for Heavenly Hunks.” “James is there today?” Her aunt’s voice raised two notches and slurred more than normal. “He isn’t due until the first week in November.” “Yet here he is.” Silence, then a rushed, “If he’s there, give him whatever he needs.” Sophia frowned. “You’re sure?” “Positive.” Uncertainty and concern played heavily in her aunt’s tone. “Is Gray with you, Sophia?” Why did she think Aunt Genevieve wanted her answer to be yes? “No, why ask?” Sophia watched Mr. Hooper wander to a shelf lining one wall. Idly, he ran his finger over the smooth edge of an embracing lovers statue. As if he’d never seen the work of art before. Odd if he picked up the books every month. But then, maybe he generally only met Aunt Genevieve in the small office downstairs. Which is where the books were kept. Except for when she’d lugged them around in her oversized purse. Like the night she’d hit Gray. “No reason.” Her aunt lied. “Give James the books. Whatever he wants.” Sophia hung up the phone and turned to the man who cast a curious eye around the apartment. “If you’ll follow me downstairs, I’ll retrieve the books for you.” The man smiled and his Hollywood sinister expression struck Sophia once again, giving her the heebie-jeebies.

104

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***** “So how goes it, Erickson?” The sassy redhead slithered into one of the man’s hand bar chairs. “Better now that you’re here,” he quipped, hoping like hell Sophia didn’t show up at the club any time soon. She’d run some errands and hadn’t made it back before he went on duty. She wouldn’t be happy Joey returned to the club. Maybe he should ask Lawrence to get another female for this particular case. Then again, he couldn’t think of any other female agent he preferred to watch his back than the one glaring at him. “What can I get for you?” Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Coke and Jack. Heavy on the Jack.” He mixed her drink and felt her gaze watching his every move. “Meant to ask you the other night and I got sidetracked but what’s this I hear about you taking off your clothes Saturday night?” He inwardly winced but kept his face straight. “You planning to be here?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she snickered. “Several pals decided to take in the show as well once they heard what you were doing.” “Really?” He’d halfway hoped no one would show tomorrow night and he’d get out of the stripping session yet. Ah well, it had been a long shot. “Why would they want to watch me strip?” Joey snorted in a most unladylike fashion but then she didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what anyone thought of