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Izzie finally slipped out of his arms, her lovely face taut and strained. Her mouth drooped and she shook her head, appearing almost…hurt…that someone would be after her.
But the hurt didn’t last for long. As she stared toward the replacement chair, her frown deepened and her eyes narrowed. He saw the clenching of her jaw and knew she was working herself into a temper.
“The cowardly bastard.” She smacked her hand flat against the tabletop, muttering a few more choice curses. “You find out who did this, Nick.”
He liked the return of that fierceness. Izzie wouldn’t let anything keep her down for long-it was one of the things he loved about her. Which he planned to tell her, just as soon as they got around to having that whole “I love you,” and “I love you, too,” conversation. Which would be soon, if he had his way. Very soon.
“I intend to. We’ll start by questioning everyone to see if anybody noticed your anonymous gift-giver hanging around.”
Though he didn’t say it to her, Nick also intended to carefully watch the staff when he talked to them. It wasn’t impossible that someone who worked right here at Leather and Lace was behind the attacks. An obsessed bartender, a jealous dancer who wanted Izzie’s headliner spot. Maybe even a bouncer wanting to be her hero. Hell, maybe even Harry wanting to stir up a big news story as publicity for the club. He could see the headline now: Hottest mystery dancer in Chicago stalked by unknown assailant.
It was possible. Anything was.
“I’ll watch the crowd tonight and see if anybody acts suspiciously, or if I recognize some of the guys who come every night I’m on.” Glancing at her watch, she added, “I have to hurry up.”
That comment drove everything else out of his mind. Nick shook his head hard. “You’re not going on tonight.
She lifted her mask, turning to the mirror. “Of course I am.”
Nick met her reflected stare. “Like hell.”
“It can be like hell in here if you force me to make it that way,” she shot back. “Because if you say that again, we’re going to be having a major fight.”
Nick couldn’t believe her. She’d just found out someone had likely tried to poison her and she still wanted to perform. “Izzie, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, you bet I am. We’re already down one girl with Leah being sick and I left Harry in the lurch last weekend.” Her eyes flashing fire, she added, “Besides, no one’s going to force me off the stage.”
Her expression betrayed her sheer determination as much as her words did. And he had to wonder if they had a double meaning.
Because despite everything that had happened this evening, he hadn’t forgotten what they had been talking about before Leah got sick. She’d basically asked him if he was going to watch her dance, and he’d hedged on his answer. He hadn’t missed the shine in her eyes or the disappointment twisting at her mouth. But he hadn’t been able to reassure her, because even Nick didn’t know how he was going to react when that moment came.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“There are four big, burly bouncers upstairs to make sure nothing happens,” she insisted. Piercing him with her stare, she added, “Besides, you’ll be there to protect me. Or won’t you? Maybe there’ll be something more important to deal with.”
Nick now knew for sure she was referring to their earlier conversation. And maybe she had a right to.
But being a little slow to want to watch the woman he loved get naked in front of a bunch of other guys had absolutely nothing to do with his concern for her now. “It’s not about that.”
“Oh, yes, it is.” Izzie stalked around the privacy screen. Given that it offered no privacy whatsoever, considering the mirror, that was a statement in itself.
A frank one…that the walls were going up between them.
“And frankly, I’m tired of asking you about it. You can watch or not, but the Crimson Rose is performing tonight.”
She yanked her robe off, then, watching him watch her, dropped her bra and panties to the floor.
“Damn it,” he muttered, as always unable to take his ravenous eyes off her. She was just so incredibly beautiful. The woman stopped his heart every time he looked at her.
Izzie continued to ignore him, reaching for her G-string and pulling it on. Then she covered her dark, puckered nipples with those two ridiculous pink petals.
“Don’t do this,” he ordered through a thick, tight throat. “Not until we know you’re safe.” When she stepped out from behind the screen and lifted her chin in challenge, he added, “You don’t have to go out there.”
