been a few parking-lot lurkers who’d been chased away by one of the bouncers, Bernie, who’d been watching out for her since her first night. Long before Nick had come on the scene.
In this job, she’d expect nothing else. But Nick was relentless in his lecturing. He kept on about how they all needed to look out for one another, report anything suspicious. Yadda yadda. Izzie zoned out somewhere between “drive a different route home from work every night” and “have a buddy when you go to the restroom.”
That one did spark an “I’ll be your bathroom buddy, Nick” from one of the girls, a glare from Delilah and another long-suffering sigh from Harry.
Finally, though, the meeting broke up and the other dancers raced to finish getting ready. Izzie quickly ducked out of the room, hoping Nick wouldn’t see her. She’d gotten about ten steps from her dressing room when she realized he’d followed.
“Rose, wait a minute.”
She froze, but didn’t turn around.
“I’m particularly concerned about you. The ‘who’s behind the mask’ element puts you at higher risk. Some whack job might decide to try to find out for himself.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks for the warning.” Now go away.
Before she could look away again, she saw a dark frown pull at Nick’s handsome face. “What in the hell?” he muttered, staring at her face.
Fearing he’d recognized her, she quickly lifted her hands to ensure her mask was still in place. It felt okay—but Nick was still staring at her, blinking in confusion.
“What?” she snapped. Remembering at the last minute that she needed to lower her voice to the sultry whisper he’d grown familiar with, she rephrased. “Is something wrong?”
He reached for her. Izzie immediately lurched back, almost tripping over her own feet. If she hadn’t backed herself up against the wall, she would have.
“Careful,” he muttered, still frowning. “It wouldn’t look good on my résumé if somebody I’m supposed to be guarding trips and breaks her neck.”
Right. He needed to guard her.
Not look at her. Not watch her. Not batter at her defenses with every flex of that body, every whiff of his spicy scent that filled her head whenever he was near.
God, this was hard. So much harder than it had been last weekend, when she hadn’t had him. When she didn’t know what he was capable of.
“You have something on your...it’s...”
Shrugging uncomfortably, he reached for her again. This time, she stayed still. At least until he yanked at her eyelashes hard enough to jerk her eyelid off her face. “Ouch!” she yelped, slapping his hand away.
His hand was still stuck to the lashes so when she smacked him, she only ended up hurting herself more. As his hand flew away, he took the lashes with him, ripping them off her lid.
“I thought it was a bug,” he said with an uncomfortable grimace.
She yanked her false eyelashes out of his fingers. “A bug? You thought I had a bug on my face?”
“It’s not like you’d be able to tell if you did with that stupid mask on. Why do you wear it when you’re not onstage, anyway?”
Oh, boy. A question she definitely couldn’t answer.
“You don’t have to keep up this mysterious-woman act for the staff, do you? So why not take it off and take a deep breath?” Swiping a frustrated hand through his short spiky hair, he added, “Or at least put your damn false eyelashes on more securely?”
She almost growled in annoyance. He was the reason she’d had to put the lashes on through the eyehole in the mask. “I want a lock on my dressing-room door,” she whispered harshly.
He glanced at the knob. “You don’t have one?”
“No.” Thinking quickly, she added, “And that’s one reason I keep the mask on all the time. I have no place to go for complete privacy. A reporter who did an article on the club a few weeks ago came creeping around down here one day, trying to get a picture of the real me.”
Nick moved in close, towering over her, burning her with his heat. Putting his hands on the wall on either side of her, he trapped her in. “Who is he?”
Izzie nibbled her lip, trying with every ounce of her strength not to throw her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. Or to shove him away so he’d stop looking searchingly at her, seeing her eyes...how could he not recognize her eyes? How could he be this close and not know the