Page 67 of Gentleman Sinner


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Judy takes his hand and walks closer to him, letting him drop a kiss on her cheek. ‘I didn’t grill her. I simply introduced myself.’

‘I would have liked to do that another time, and somewhere else,’ Theo replies, not sounding very happy at all, and I disintegrate under his imposing presence and displeased stare.

‘What was I going to do?’ Judy sighs tiredly. ‘Leave her looking lost?’ She breaks away from Theo and collects her files. ‘I’m done for the evening,’ she says, slighted, but giving me a secret smile as she leaves us alone. ‘It was lovely to meet you, Izzy.’

‘You too.’ I force a smile as I watch her go, not wanting to look at Theo when he’s obviously not happy to see me. So I resort to looking around the club again, except now most of the attention of the patrons is pointed in this direction, observing Theo and the inappropriately dressed, barefoot woman standing a few feet away from him. I think if I were in my underwear, I’d feel less conspicuous than I do right now. I begin to wilt under all the curious looks, faffing with the hem of my T-shirt as I glance back to Theo. His face is blank.

‘Penny is certainly . . .’ I falter momentarily, looking for the right words. ‘. . . back on her feet,’ I finish, wishing I could scurry out of here unnoticed. Or better still, wishing I hadn’t let my ears lead me in here at all. How long would he have kept me in the dark about this place?

Theo’s lips twitch, breaking into a wry smile. And for my sins, I smile, too. ‘Too shocked to give me a hug?’ he asks.

‘I think I need one.’

‘Come here.’ He jerks his head a little, an order, but doesn’t extend a welcoming hand.

My feet move without me telling them to, taking me to him. It’s natural, which is plain strange, because everything about this is very unnatural to me. Reaching for his shoulders, I slide my arms around him, and he holds me fiercely, making me meld into his embrace, my eyes closing, my surroundings forgotten.

‘I was going to tell you,’ he says quietly. ‘But then you said what you said earlier, and I know you don’t like violence, and . . . well, this place.’

‘This place,’ I agree, breathing in as I open my eyes. Everyone is still staring at us, including his mother, who has paused at the door. Embarrassed, I break away from Theo, feeling the heat rise in my face. ‘We have an audience.’

Theo doesn’t look, just slides his arm over my shoulder and pulls me into him, walking us across to the cordoned-off area where he was sitting when I stumbled in here. ‘I expect so.’ He’s unperturbed, guiding me past the barrier and indicating for me to sit. ‘We should talk.’

‘How about back at your room? I’m hardly dressed for this place.’

He smiles. ‘It’s funny.’

Funny? ‘What is?’

‘You making your first appearance in my playground looking like you’ve just been fucked.’ He winks cheekily. ‘I like this look on you.’ He lowers into a chair and signals for a server. ‘Usual, and whatever Izzy would like.’

‘Just water for me, please.’

‘Really?’ Theo asks, obviously taken aback.

‘It’s three a.m.,’ I point out. ‘I should be in bed. Why did you leave me?’

He regards me closely, sitting back in his chair. ‘I couldn’t sleep. Was worried about how I might explain this place to my girlfriend when I know she hates violence, and I’m pretty damn sure she hates strip clubs.’

This is where my head is at right now. A mess, really, because of all the things he just said, only one word resonates. ‘Girlfriend?’

His smile is faint, though I sense nerves. ‘Have things changed now you’ve seen my playground? Between us, I mean?’ He reaches over the table for my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘I hope the answer is no.’

‘And if it isn’t?’

‘I’ll do anything to make sure it is.’

‘You own a strip club.’

‘Very observant of you.’

‘Is it only a strip club?’ I bite my lip, nervous as shit, and when Theo’s stare takes on an edge of danger, I realize I have just put my big fat foot in it.

‘The girls are safe,’ he tells me, knowing that is what I need to hear. ‘They are paid handsomely. They keep their tips. If they don’t want to dance, they don’t. No one can touch them or approach them.’

I nod in acceptance and take my water when the waiter presents me with the tray, naturally taking Theo’s tumbler from it, too, and passing it across the table to him.

The waiter’s eyebrows jump up, and Theo smiles as he accepts the drink from my grasp. ‘And the cage?’ I ask.

‘We hold events,’ he says, discomfort showing again. ‘Fights.’

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