Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,117

did, it might get loud. And neither one of them might be ready to go back to work after they had the blowout fight Nick suspected they were going to have.

It was definitely going to be a blowout, and probably not for the reasons Izzie would suspect. Yeah, it bothered him that his sister-in-law’s kid sister was working as a stripper. But he was no prude, nor was he judgmental. He’d seen her act...she was not only good, she was damn good.

As someone who was—and might again be—Izzie’s lover, he was not happy. Couldn’t deny that. But again, not so much because of other men looking at her, but more because she was working in a very risky field. Putting herself in danger.

The real reason he was fuming was because she’d lied to him. She’d been deceitful, letting him chase after Izzie by day while Rose pursued him by night. The woman had nearly sent him out of his mind—for what? Some twisted game? A power trip?

He didn’t know. He just knew he wanted answers. And when the club finally shut down and everyone began to drift away, he walked downstairs, determined to get them.

Nick knew she hadn’t left yet, he’d been watching her car in the parking lot, which was emptying as everyone departed for the night. She usually left much earlier—since her last number took place around midnight. And it didn’t take her long to get ready since she didn’t bother taking her mask off before getting into her car and roaring away. Obviously for his benefit.

But she was still here. So he could only assume one thing: she was waiting in her dressing room, either hiding in the hopes that he’d leave first, or preparing herself for his arrival.

Because she had to know he’d figured her out. All she’d have had to do was look out at him in the audience during her second set and see the steam pouring out of his head. And the fire burning out of his eyeballs.

Reaching her closed door, he remembering she’d said it had no lock. He gave her a one-knock warning, then entered without waiting for an invitation. It wasn’t like she had anything to hide...he’d seen her body, both as Izzie and as Rose.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, staring at him from across the room, where she’d been slipping a jacket on. She was dressed casually, in a loose, comfortable-looking pair of baggy pants and a tank top. If she hadn’t been wearing the mask, she’d have looked just like the girl next door.

Like Izzie.

God, what a blind idiot he was not to have seen it before. The eyes were the same—though “Rose’s” were shadowed by the mask. Those lips couldn’t be denied. The shape of her jaw, the length of her neck. Everything about the Crimson Rose was Izzie under a sexy microscope. Everything about Izzie was the Crimson Rose in nice-girl trappings.

“What do you want, Nick?”

“You’re here late,” he murmured, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Um, yes, I guess so,” she replied.

“You don’t usually stay until closing time.”

She tilted her head back, her chin up, displaying outright bravado. She was going to try to bluff her way through this, since she couldn’t be certain she’d been busted. “One of the other dancers got sick and had to leave. I wasn’t sure if Harry would need me to cover for her.”

He hadn’t. Nick knew that much. If he’d had to watch “Rose” in a third performance on the stage, he would have lost it. He didn’t know that he’d have been able to keep himself from going up there and confronting her right in front of the audience.

She fell silent, just watching him. Waiting. Nick said nothing, not giving himself away yet. He wanted to see what she’d do. How far Izzie would go to maintain her secret.

God, it killed him that she didn’t trust him. He had no illusions about why she’d put that mask on her face in the beginning. Her parents would be upset if they found out. He could even see why she’d kept quiet the first couple of times he’d worked here—before she knew she could trust him.

But now he was her lover. She’d trusted him with her body. She should have trusted him with her secret.

“Well,” she said, “I guess it’s time to go.”

“So soon?” he murmured, leaning back against the closed door, blocking her escape. He crossed his arms and stared. “But this is the