2
Hayley wanted to press her hands to her burning cheeks and retreat to the ladies room. But the five PIs—even Tom had actually turned away from the stage—were staring at her.
Ravi, a really nice man, had phrased his question politely and Evelyn’s and Kari’s expressions were curious. Ry’s face, however, bore an expression that pretty much robbed her of breath, intelligent thought, and the ability to speak.
Which, come to think of it, was his usual effect on her.
It was both heaven and hell, working with Ry Montana. Bad enough he had thick, always-tousled black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a perpetually stubbled jaw. Add in that devil-may-care air, and he was just about the sexiest guy on the planet.
Mostly, he didn’t notice her, so she went her quiet way, savoring the eye candy and storing up images to fuel her midnight fantasies. Embarrassed by her attraction to him, she’d been kind of grateful he was oblivious to her, but also a little annoyed. And annoyed at herself for being upset.
Hayley wasn’t the type of woman who sought office romances or traded on her sexuality. She firmly believed that in the workplace women should be treated no differently than men. With her abundant figure, the only way she could ensure that attention was on her skills rather than her curves was to dress conservatively and professionally, downplaying her femininity. The one time she’d worn a sexy dress to an office Christmas party, back when she worked for the government, her boss’s boss had hit on her in a really nasty way. Remembering still made her nauseous.
Bottom line, she could hardly blame Ry for barely noticing she was female.
But then, tonight…
When their eyes had met, she’d felt a distinct sizzle. All the way to her crotch, where steamy arousal dampened her panties.
For a moment she’d thought he was actually turned on by her. Then she’d realized, likely it was the dancer who’d made his eyes blaze that way. She only hoped he hadn’t read her own arousal on her face.
She shouldn’t have joined the PIs at 4-Play tonight. Shouldn’t have indulged her secret craving for adventure.
Her gran, who’d raised her since she was eight, had done her best to stamp out that itch for excitement. She’d drummed into Hayley’s head the importance of being practical and responsible, and Hayley really did believe her.
But every once in a while, the itch needed scratching. Only, of course, when there was a practical justification—okay, a way of rationalizing the indulgence. Like tonight. It was research. She’d do more effective work on the Mortimer case if she better understood their subject.
That amazingly sensual, sexy, attractive woman on stage, who held the audience in the palm of her hand.
“Hayley?” Kari sounded concerned.
With a start, Hayley realized they were all still watching her, their expressions varying from curiosity to impatience, waiting for her answer.
“I have some dance training and I’ve performed onstage,” she said softly.
“You dance?” Tom asked disbelievingly.
Ry’s brows arched and she had trouble reading his expression. The simple fact that he’d focused on her was enough to fluster her.
“I did. Ballet.” She didn’t say she’d taken ten years of lessons, dancing until her ever-expanding breasts and hips had become an embarrassment. Nor did she say that, at home alone, she loved to put on some raunchy rock and roll or sultry jazz and get down and dirty.
“Oh, ballet.” Tom turned his attention back to the stage.
So did the other PIs. Hayley, too, relieved to no longer be the center of attention.
Kat Dancer finished her act and everyone applauded enthusiastically, including Hayley.
She’d never been sexually drawn to another woman, but she’d sure been aroused by Kat’s performance. Even, to a lesser degree, by the one given by Vivi LeDare.
It wasn’t the women so much as the combination of music, sensuality, and lack of inhibition. Hayley had almost been able to imagine herself in their shoes, to feel the thrill of performing in front of an audience. Of captivating them. It was something she’d always enjoyed about ballet.
But ballet had been restrictive more than liberating. A dancer had to conform to a choreographer’s vision rather than let her body interpret the music. And never had it been sexual.
When she’d come here tonight, she’d expected sleaze. And yes, there was some of that. But there was also sensuality, sexuality, male adoration, the provocative pulse of music in your veins.
What must it be like to be up on that stage? Better, even, than ballet, she guessed.
The next dancer took the stage. Curvaceous and hard bodied, with blond-streaked dark hair, she wore a sexy parody of a biker costume. Music pounded out of the speakers. Hard-driving rock. Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”
The song wouldn’t have been Hayley’s choice, but the woman onstage was selling it, raunchy and in your face.
“Okay,” Ry said quietly, “we’ve been here long enough. Don’t want to be too noticeable.”
The others leaned forward so they could hear, and Hayley knew the loud music would make it impossible for anyone else to overhear.
“I’ll take the shift tomorrow,” Tom said promptly.
At their Monday morning meeting, Ry had suggested that the male PIs make some visits to 4-Play this week to see who Kat Dancer interacted with. To look for sexual vibes with a club manager, DJ, bartender, or bouncer, and to keep an eye out for drug transactions.
“Ry, I’ve been thinking—” Evelyn started, then broke off when Vivi LeDare, now clad in a skimpy red slip-style dress, came over to ask if anyone would like a VIP dance.
After they’d shaken their heads and she’d gone, Evelyn resumed, voice low. In her fifties, she ran The Private Eye with a nice blend of flexibility and vigilance and they all respected her. “It would also make sense for a woman to try to get close to the subject,” she said. “Women confide in other women.”
“That’s true,” Hayley murmured. There were secrets she’d never shared with a man, only with girlfriends. The thought reminded her of how much she missed her best friends, Steph who was back in Victoria and Margaret who’d moved to Toronto.
“Makes sense,” Ry said.
“I’m around Jennifer’s age,” Kari said. “I could bump into her at the grocery store or a coffee shop and try to strike up a friendship.”
Ry shook his head. “These days she only hangs out with strippers.”
“She’s gone over to the dark side,” Ravi said in a pseudo Star Wars voice, making them chuckle.
“Yeah, in a sense,” Ry said. “Her life used to be centered around her husband, home, and friends. Now she’s focused on the strip club world.”
Hayley glanced toward the stage, where the dancer was now clad in a gold bikini. “Likely she now shares confidences with other dancers.”
When she turned back to Ry, his gaze was on her, even though Kari was saying, “Yeah, a girl has to talk to someone.”
The man’s attention made Hayley squirm in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For once, he was actually seeing her. Was it possible there was sexual interest in those blue eyes, or was she imagining it? The mere possibility sent a charge straight to her pussy.
“Hey,” Tom joked, “I could date a stripper, see if she’d gossip about Kat Dancer.”
They all laughed and he said, “Yeah, I’d have trouble selling that to my wife.”
“Too bad we can’t send someone in undercover as a dancer,” Evelyn said.
“Ooh,” Kari squealed, “what fun! I’d so volunteer, but somehow I don’t think they’d hire me.” She leaned back from the table and patted her seven-month baby bump.
“Don’t think they’d hire me either,” Evelyn said dryly, fingering a lock of gray hair.
“So much for that idea,” Ravi said.
“I could do it.” The words burst out of Hayley’s mouth without conscious thought.
And again, five pairs of eyes were staring at her. This time with disbelief.
After a moment, Ravi summoned a kind smile. “You’re not a PI, Hayley.”
Oh my God, what had she done? Now she should politely agree, withdraw her offer, and shut up.
But the same crazy impulse that had made her volunteer now made her say, “You’ve used me for surveillance.”
“Um…” Ravi exchanged glances with Ry and Tom. “Because you, uh, have the knack of fitting in.”
“Then why couldn’t I fit in here?” She glared defiantly at the three men. Damn it, she was an attractive woman, a damned fine dancer, and smart too.
And she’d just used—at least in her thoughts—more damns than she usually did in a day.
“Drugs and gangs might be involved,” Ry said. “Can’t send you into a potentially dangerous situation.”
“Talking to another woman could be dangerous?” she responded. “I doubt it. And don’t forget, I’m the one who got that librarian to open up about the straying husband who was meeting his lover in the medieval weaponry section.”
“Next time we need someone to go undercover in a library, you’ll be the first one we ask.” Ry’s eyes danced.
Damn the man. He was laughing at her.
“Ry has a point about drugs and gangs, Hayley,” Evelyn said. “Who knows what you might run into?”
“Then I’d run the other way. Besides, you know I’ve been studying kickboxing.” That was another activity her craving for adventure had led her to. She’d had no trouble justifying it to herself; a sensible woman should know self-defense.
As for going undercover as an exotic dancer at a strip club, though…Why was she being so persistent? If Ry actually let her do it and Gran ever found out…
Her grandmother had been delighted when, after getting her BA, Hayley went to work for the provincial government. She had great job security and excellent employee benefits—and lived in Victoria where she’d grown up, nice and close to Gran.
But after three years, Hayley had been bored out of her mind. When she’d seen The Private Eye’s ad for an admin assistant, she’d leaped to apply. A PI agency would be exciting, and so would moving from small town Victoria to the larger, more cosmopolitan Vancouver.
She’d justified her decision by saying she needed wider job experience.
Stripping would certainly give her that!
But no, Ry would never go for it. She was safe.
Safe. Again. Just the way Gran wanted.
Kari broke the weighted silence. “I agree with Hayley.”
Hayley couldn’t suppress a squeak of surprise as the other woman went on. “I think she can do this. She has dance training, she knows about choreography, and she’s got a great build.”
Ry’s gaze drifted down her body, and she resisted the urge to refasten the buttons at her throat. Either that or undo another couple.
“She does?” Tom said.
Hayley gritted her teeth.
Kari bopped Tom’s shoulder with her fist, not gently. “Remove foot from mouth, insert beer bottle, and shut up.” Then she turned to Ry. “Where’s Kat Dancer scheduled to perform in the next month?”
“Next week it’s a club in Langley, then it’s The Naked Truth downtown for two weeks. That’s her most regular gig.”
“The Naked Truth?” Kari said. “It’s a classy place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Ravi said. “My girlfriend and I and another couple went there a few months ago. It’s only open at night, unlike a lot of clubs that open at noon. It’s expensive, nicely decorated, has a dress code. And the security is great.”
“That’d give us time to get Hayley ready,” Kari said.
Hayley took a deep breath. “Ready?”
She couldn’t dance onstage stark naked. Damn, if only she’d thought before she opened her mouth. “Uh, maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, I’m not exactly stripper material.”
Across the table, Ry cocked an amused eyebrow.
Kari grinned. “They didn’t think Sandra Bullock was beauty pageant material either.”
“Huh?” Tom said.
“Miss Congeniality?” Kari said impatiently. “Where the FBI agent went undercover as a beauty pageant contestant.”
Hmm. Sandra Bullock’s character had gone from being a total tomboy to strutting her stuff onstage in a bathing suit.
“Oh, yeah,” Tom said. “But that was Sandra Bullock. I mean, no offense Hayley, but…”
“What did I tell you about shutting up?” Kari scolded.
A quick flash of smile lit Tom’s lips, making Hayley wonder if he was putting them on. There was more to the man than the bumbling, rather crude façade he presented, or he wouldn’t be such a successful PI.
Eyes gleaming, Kari fixed her gaze on Hayley. “Oh, girlfriend, we are going to have so much fun!”
Girlfriend? The word made her smile. Up to now, Kari’d been friendly but only in a businesslike way.
Kari turned to Evelyn. “What do you think? Shall we do this? Will you help?”
This was Ry’s case, but Evelyn, as head of the agency, had ultimate responsibility and could veto the idea.
To Hayley’s surprise, the stocky woman nodded her head. “I’m in favor so long as we ensure Hayley’s safety, and the client approves the expense. I think Hayley can do this. And yes, I’ll help in whatever way I can.”
“Well?” Kari asked Ry. “It’s your case.”
Hayley should stop this now. Be firm and say she’d only been kidding, she could never be an exotic dancer. But then she’d look foolish.
Besides, Ry would say no. He’d never believe her capable of doing it.
The thought hurt, and irked her, but it was also reassuring. She’d get out of this with a shred of dignity intact.
The corners of his mouth curled slowly into a wicked grin. “Go for it, ladies.”
Hayley’s mouth dropped open. He’d called her bluff.
The PIs were offering her an important undercover assignment. Which meant she had a practical justification for saying yes. If she wanted to.
She’d craved excitement. Wondered what it would be like to dance on that stage.
Ry, eyes gleaming, added, “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
The truth—the naked truth—hit Hayley.
If she did this, she’d not only be dancing onstage, she’d be doing it without a stitch of clothing. In front of the world.
Including the panty-meltingly, scorchingly hot Ry Montana.