Chances Are - By Christy Reece Page 0,26

The evidence of his desire was hard against her hip. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. That’s what makes this so dammed dangerous.”

Her heart zinged with joy but the anger in his eyes quickly squelched the happiness. “Dangerous? How?”

Apparently regretting his words, he shook his head and loosened his hold on her. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Pushing her gently out of his arms, he glanced at the clock. “You’d better get dressed. We’re due at the club in an hour.”

She stood in front of him. The towel bunched at her waist, her breasts still exposed. She wanted to shout at him for being so dammed stubborn. She wanted to cry because once again she had allowed him to reject her.

His eyes looking everywhere but at her, Jake growled, “Dammit, go get some clothes on.”

She wasn’t embarrassed by her nudity. Soon, Jake would be seeing her dressed in almost nothing and gyrating on a stage as if she were in the throes of sexual ecstasy. Still, she felt vulnerable and open, exposed in a way she wouldn’t be in her stripper garb.

Before she turned away, she needed him to understand one thing. “This is the last time, Jake. I’ve made more advances to you than I’ve done with all the other men I’ve known, combined. You’ve turned me down for the last time. I’m through offering.”

Turning, she walked away. With every step she took, she wanted him to call her back. When she reached the door and there was no sound coming from him, she released the breath she had been holding. That was it. She had spoken the truth, she wouldn’t offer again.

Chapter Seven

Club Drago

London

Jake opened the door for Angela and then followed her into the club. After she’d walked away from him an hour ago, he’d been cursing his poor handling of the situation, sure that things would now be awkward, possibly putting the mission in jeopardy. But Angela was a true professional, making him admire her all the more. The moment she’d walked out of the bedroom, dressed for their meeting with the club manager, she’d acted as if nothing had happened.

For someone who was doing his best to protect a woman he cared for so deeply, he was doing a shitty job of it. He’d dammed well better get his head out of his ass when it came time to protecting her physically. Hadn’t he already learned his lesson the hard way?

“Think I’ll be able to dance tonight?” Angela asked.

“Depends. Roddy, the manager, is totally onboard with our mission but if he puts you on in place of someone who’s scheduled, it might look suspicious.”

She held up her purse. “I brought my outfit and music, just in case.”

“In that?” The handbag barely looked big enough to carry her wallet and apartment keys.

She glanced down at her legs. “I’m wearing my boots. The rest of my costume is minimal. Remember, I’m a stripper. The clothing tends to be quite small.”

Yeah, like he was going to forget. Jake’s jaw tightened. He’d almost not survived having an almost nude Angela in his arms. Now he was going to sit in an audience while strangers ogled her. This would be the most hellish LCR assignment he’d ever been on.

“May I help you?” A young woman dressed in a sedate brown pantsuit came toward them.

“We’re here to see Roddy. The name’s Jake, this is Angela.”

“Of course, he told me to send you to his office when you arrived.”

As they followed the woman through the club to the office, Jake saw Angela stare at the stage and the tall silver pole in the center of it. Was she nervous? Though she seemed to have the energy of three normal people, Jake didn’t see Angela as a nervous person. But still, anyone would be apprehensive to have to dance almost nude in front of strangers, wouldn’t they?

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, just trying to decide the best routine for the stage size. It’s not very large so most of my moves will have to be done with the pole.” She nodded as if satisfied with her assessment and then turned to him. He was stunned to see excitement gleaming in her eyes. “I’m really good on the pole.”

Holy hell, he was in trouble.

Roddy Rawlins was a short, stubby man with a raspy voice, tobacco-stained teeth and wise eyes. Without any seeming sexuality in his gaze, he assessed Angela as an employee and nodded approvingly.

“I understand you have pole dancing