Читать книгу A SEAL's Fantasy - Tawny Weber - Страница 11

2

“LARA!”

Half the women in the dressing room were nude, another quarter stripped to the waist, but nobody batted an eyelash at the lumpy grease spot of a guy standing in the doorway.

“What?” she answered, tightening the belt of her robe. Some of the other dancers smirked at modesty, but she didn’t care. For one, she figured her costume showed about as much of her body as she was willing to share with a bunch of people whose last names she didn’t even know. And two, Rudy had a habit of following up his impromptu visits with irritating attention. A lot of the women were cool with that, since his attention usually came with better dance roles.

But not Lara.

“You busy tonight?” he asked, leaning one bony shoulder against the door frame and staring past her at one of the blonde principals who was cleaning the rouge off her nipples.

“Why?”

“Dana called in sick,” Rudy muttered around a cheekful of tobacco. “You want her spot in the ten o’clock show?”

Lara grimaced. Her new textbooks had cost twice what she’d budgeted and rent was due in five days. The only way she was going to make it through this month was if she survived on ramen noodles and cold cereal for two weeks.

Of course, given the size of her costume, keeping the calorie count down wasn’t a bad thing. But she had class tonight. It was her last semester, which brought her within kissing distance of her goal. And nothing, not even affording fresh vegetables, got in the way of her goals.

“Thanks, but I can’t,” she said with just a hint of regret.

She’d survived on less for longer.

And, hopefully, she wouldn’t be worrying about barely making it paycheck to paycheck soon.

“Mistake,” Rudy said, his gaze cutting to her.

“What’re you doing in here?” Flo pushed past Rudy, cast a glance over the undressed state of her various dancers, then shoved the man out of the way. Once a dancer, now a stage mom, the statuesque redhead wore a beehive straight out of the fifties and blue eye shadow to match. “Get. I’ll report you to Roberto, you sneak in here one more time.”

“Didn’t sneak. Came in to offer Lara a spot at ten. She refused. Stupid.” He looked past Flo to give Lara a derisive look, then shook his head and walked out.

The door ricocheted as it slammed closed.

“He’s right.”

Lara glanced at the redhead, then shrugged. Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer, because the older woman stomped over, shooing dancers out of the room as she came. By the time she reached Lara’s locker, half the room was empty and the rest were moving fast.

“I have plans,” Lara said before Flo could poke at her.

“How long have you been here?” Flo asked, paying more attention to the costume she was inspecting for tears than to the woman she was bitching out.

“Two years.”

“And you’re not principal yet?” Flo adjusted the costume on its hanger, then pushed it aside to check the next one. “You’re good. Better than most of the girls. You’ve got the moves, the talent. Your body is solid, sexy. Your looks stand out, even on stage.”

As uncomfortable with the compliment as she was with realizing that the women left in the room were listening, Lara just shrugged and grabbed her street clothes out of her locker.

“So why aren’t you headlining?”

“Maybe because I don’t want to?” Lara said, tugging on her thong, then yanking up her jeans.

Christi gave Lara a sympathetic pat, then scurried around Flo and headed for the door.

Lara grimaced. She wasn’t oblivious to the whispers that her answer caused. Nor was she blind to the expression of relief on more than one face. Dancers might put on the we’re-all-friends facade, but it was as false as their stage lashes. And usually just as brittle. The chorus went out for drinks together; some even roomed with each other. But every single one of them knew that it was every woman for herself. If stepping over one to get up the ladder was what it took, then watch your scalp for stiletto gouges.

“That’s the third time you’ve been offered extra. Rudy won’t be giving you too many more shots.”

Dammit.

Since Rudy wasn’t likely to make another appearance so soon, Lara didn’t hesitate to drop her robe. She pulled on her bra, the flowery lace stretching over her ample Ds as she slipped the satin straps up and snapped it closed. Unlike most of the women who were dressing, she didn’t bother to check her half-dressed appearance in the mirror. She knew her boobs were full and high. At twenty-four, she had no worries about drooping. Her stomach was flat, and since she didn’t have time to shower before class, it still shimmered with body glitter. Her long legs were poured into tight denim and as she pulled a light blue sweater over her head, the soft fabric draped and flowed to her hips.

“Roberto knows I need Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays off after eight,” she finally said. “I’ve got a commitment, and he’s fine with it. Rudy’s just playing a power game.”

“Roberto might be the choreographer,” Flo agreed, referring to the man in charge of the showgirls at the Silver Dust Casino, “but everyone knows that Rudy has plenty of power. Enough to trip you up if you aren’t careful.”

Balancing on one foot while she pulled on a knee-high stiletto boot, Lara sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t need Flo’s warning to know she was tiptoeing along the edge of blowing her job.

She’d run across plenty of Rudys in her days. She’d been dancing professionally since she was seventeen. Broadway in New York or casinos in Reno, it didn’t matter. There were always power-hungry egomaniacs with hard-ons out to screw you over.

She knew it didn’t matter if you were the best, if you were the brightest or if you had the most talent. She knew promises didn’t mean a thing and that trusting anyone was an invitation to be screwed over backward.

This was the third casino she’d danced at since being dumped here in Reno three years ago. But dammit, it was going to be her last.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, zipping her other boot, then grabbing her purse and backpack out of the locker before slamming it shut.

She gave Flo a smile, rare for being real, and shrugged.

“I know what I’m doing, and I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “I don’t play by any guy’s rules. Doesn’t matter how much power he thinks he has. He can’t mess with me.”

Two minutes later, Lara had to sigh and wonder why life always sent her words back to bite her. Did she flip life the bird and tempt fate? No. Did she ignore hard-learned lessons and traipse down the same stupid path time and time again? No, no, a million times no.

But life clearly didn’t trust her.

Lara walked down the long service hall toward the employee exit. The door was usually manned by a guard or two, big burly guys posted to keep the lowlifes away and make sure nobody played grab ass with the girls when they left.

Tonight the door had been left unguarded. And she was the only dancer leaving between shows.

Rudy might not be able to punish her officially for not taking his generous offer. But like petty men everywhere, he found a way to slap at her.

Message received.

And, she determined, her chin high, ignored.

She tugged her denim jacket on over the purse she’d draped from one shoulder to the opposite hip, automatically tucked her keys between her knuckles. She shoved the heavy door open.

She didn’t make it three steps before catching the attention of the creep cadre, as she had disdainfully dubbed the men who littered the back alley of the casino. Dealers, dopers and desperate losers gathered in clumps. A dozen sets of eyes cut to her, then over her shoulder to the empty doorway. The nasty smiles made her stomach knot. But only because dealing with the creeps might make her late. At least, that’s what she told herself. She wasn’t a fan of lying, but sometimes a little fib kept a girl from turning tail and running.

For every step she made, the creeps slinked one closer. Her fingers tightened around her keys while she shifted her backpack off her shoulder so it dropped to the crook of her elbow, better for swinging.

“Yo.”

Lara ignored the call just as she ignored the disgusting suggestions and lewd propositions. Her feet wanted to run, but she knew better. Jackals loved it when their prey showed fear.

“Lara Banks?”

She kept moving, her steps a little faster now. Twenty feet to the end of the alley and the road. Crowds, tourists, cops. She was almost there. Footsteps sounded like thunder as they came closer; the catcalls and rude comments were so loud now they echoed in her head.

Her breath hitching a little, she anchored her fist around the strap of her backpack and prepared to sprint to the end of the alley.

Before she made it three feet, a hand grabbed her shoulder.

Without thinking, Lara spun, swinging her pack with all her strength.

The only reaction the guy showed was a slight huff as it slammed into his belly.

She wouldn’t get any help from the creep cadre. They were more likely to pull out their cameras and film the attack.

Fist high and ready to scrap her keys across his face, Lara froze.

It was him.

The guy from the front row.

Her stomach did a slow, twirling sort of dive, leaving fear behind and coiling into a deep, intense lust.

He was even more gorgeous up close.

And he was a creep who accosted women in an alley, she reminded herself.

Figured.

* * *

WELL, WELL. APPARENTLY little sister Lara had gotten all the looks in the Banks family, Dominic decided. And all the style. She had the same mahogany hair and green eyes as her brother, but the resemblance stopped there.

Her hair was short, a wicked angle that highlighted sharp cheekbones and exotically long-lidded eyes. And her mouth...oh, baby. Her lips were full and rosy, erotic enough to put a porn star to shame. Of course, that impression might be the result of watching her strutting her incredibly sexy body onstage for an hour.

He dropped his gaze to take in that body up close. It was definitely one worth getting personal with. She was tall, in her heels just a few inches shorter than he was, with most of her height in those long, sleek legs. The kind of legs made to wrap around a man and take him for a wild ride. Her jacket obscured but didn’t hide the lush curves of her breasts. His fingers itched to move that denim aside and get a better look.

He resisted.

Not because she was glaring at him. Nor because of any stupid rules about her being off-limits because she was Banks’s sister.

Nope.

He yanked his lust back, holding it in check.

She was his mission.

“Hi,” he said, his smile pure charm. He didn’t figure it’d take more than that. It rarely did. “You’re Lara, right?”

“Excuse me,” she said, moving her hand from side to side as if flicking him out of her path. “I’m in a hurry.”

He’d been able to resist her looks, stunning though they were.

But that voice. Hello, darlin’, that voice was pure sexual invitation. Low and husky, it was meant for dark rooms and silk sheets.

“You’ve got a second, though, right?”

She gave him a look, a combination of irritation and inquiry, as if she couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t listening.

He could have told her he was listening just fine. But her order and his wishes were in direct conflict, and Dominic made a habit out of getting his way. Especially when it came to beautiful women.

With that in mind, he amped up the charm a little and tilted his head.

“Look, I just want to talk to you.”

“Right,” Lara mocked with a roll of her eyes. “Talk. Sorry, big boy. I’m busy. Why don’t you grab one of the girls on the corner? They’re never too busy to chat.”

He snorted. Damned if her smart-ass mouth wasn’t just as sexy as her legs.

“We can keep it public. There’s a diner across the street. We’ll talk there.”

“I’m not into talking, even in public,” she said as she tried again to pull her arm from his grip. He didn’t let go.

“Sweetheart, you just bared your all to a theater full of drooling guys. You obviously have no problem with public displays.” A fact for which he was very grateful. He might not be planning to enjoy what she had to offer, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to appreciate its existence. Covered in shiny fabric or simple denim, the woman had a body of a goddess.

“My all was fully covered,” she reminded him with frown.

“Not fully enough to diminish the fabulous view,” he corrected, his smile automatically shifting to flirtatious before he could stop it. Not that he’d have tried. After all, a goddess had to expect a little worship with a body like hers.

“I’m betting at some point, your mama probably taught you that look doesn’t mean touch.” She shot a pointed glance at his hand, still holding her arm. “You wouldn’t want her disappointed, now would you?”

Dominic grinned. She was as clever as she was pretty.

Still, he didn’t let go. Clever and pretty wouldn’t keep her safe. He, on the other hand, would.

He just had to convince her of that.

After giving him an arch look, she tossed a glance over his shoulder. He knew there were a bunch of losers leaning against the back of the casino, all in various states of uselessness.

“Look, I’ve gotta go,” she said, twisting the arm he held to the side so she could check her watch. “You have something to say, do it now. In thirty seconds I’ll call the goons back. They might not be able to take you, but you’ll have to let go of me to deal and then I’m gone.”

“I need to talk to you about your brother,” he said, trying not to sound amused. He knew from experience that women didn’t like it when he wasn’t intimidated by their threats.

Maybe she sensed that he was trying not to laugh, because she stiffened, her spine rigid and her chin lifting. She swallowed once, then glared and shook her head.

“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have a brother.”

“Phillip Banks. Lieutenant Phillip Banks. Navy SEAL.”

She tilted her head, giving him a long look, then shrugged.

“Like I said, I don’t have a brother.”

Dominic rocked back on his heels.

It’d taken Lucas all of five minutes to pull Banks’s family info. Parents deceased two years ago, sister estranged and living in Reno working as a showgirl. The house and ample family coffers willed to the eldest and only son, and all sitting in wait back in Maryland. From the info Lucas had pulled up, which had included Banks’s sister’s driver’s license, home address and last known work address, the woman in front of him was none other.

“Look, sweetheart, I can’t blame you for denying it. If I had Phillip Banks for a brother, I’d probably lie, too. But facts are facts, no matter how much we might not like them.”

“I said I don’t have a brother.” With a stubborn look she tried to yank her arm away, then growled when his grip didn’t budge.

“And I said you do. Why don’t we go somewhere, get a cup of coffee and make a list of all the reasons Phillip Banks pisses us off?” Dominic saw the humor flash in her eyes for one second before her scowl buried it. He lowered his voice to a flirtatious whisper. “C’mon. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours. It’s a long one.”

* * *

LARA HAD TO press her lips together to keep the grin at bay.

Long one, indeed.

No matter how long he thought his...list might be, she wasn’t interested. Besides, when it came to reasons to be pissed, no matter how impressively big he thought his was—and she was pretty sure it was damned impressive—her list was way longer.

And any guy who could flirt with a woman while insulting her apparent relative definitely appealed to her. She had a thing for cocky guys.

But that thing tended to get her in trouble. So she’d learned the hard way that it was better—that she was better—if she straight up ignored it. Or, in unignorable cases such as the gorgeous guy standing in front of her, if she got the hell away as fast as possible.

With that in mind, she shifted her weight back on her heels, wrapped her fingers tighter around her backpack and prepared to swing again if he didn’t let go.

Before she could, before she could even issue her warning, one of the creep cadre sauntered over.

“You okay?”

The temptation to say no, to ask for help, lasted about a second and a half. Lara flicked a glance at the gorgeous mountain of a guy holding her arm, then jerked her head at the four guys, indicating they should split. Even if they did manage to take him, the price they’d want for helping her was more than she was willing to shell out.

Nope, she’d take her chances with the gorgeous mountain.

She could handle him.

Forcing herself to ignore the mental images of the various parts of him she’d really like to handle, she cocked her head to one side, giving the hand on her arm a flick of her fingers.

“You’ve got an interesting pickup line, big guy. What do you call this? The Neanderthal approach? Grab a woman in an alley, grunt a few times about fake relatives and show off your studly moves for the local cockroaches?” She hoped her smile was snarky and not shaky, but her nerves were wound too tight to tell.

If she’d hoped to offend him into letting go, she straight up failed.

Instead, he shifted. His thigh grazed hers and while his fingers didn’t actually move, she felt as if he’d just caressed her arm. His dark eyes turned molten, and his lips quirked into a sexy little smile. Heat swirled through Lara’s system like a whirlwind, filling her body with longings and her mind with crazy thoughts.

“Tell you what, sweetheart. Why don’t we get out of this alley and I’ll work up a line you’ll like much better.” His words were silky smooth. So slick and easy that she doubted he’d ever had a single unsure moment in his life.

Now her nerves were racing for a whole different reason.

Eyes wide, Lara wet her lips.

His eyes dropped, amusement fading.

Lara’s stomach clenched.

Not out of fear.

This was pure, liquid desire.

She’d rather be afraid.

But she also wanted out of the alley. She knew all eyes were still on them, that the creep cadre was only waiting for a chance to unleash their ugly.

“Why don’t we go out front,” she suggested after clearing her throat a couple of times. Out front were real people. Tourists and cops and traffic. She figured it’d take her three, maybe five minutes to ditch him there.

“Let’s go,” he agreed.

As if he knew she was going to bolt, he kept hold of her arm as they made their way to the end of the building. As soon as they rounded the corner, Lara relaxed. Like a lullaby, the sounds of traffic, people and music soothed. She glanced at the mountain out of the corner of her eye, then wished she hadn’t.

He shouldn’t look as intimidating out here.

But he was.

The dim alley lighting had hid his scariest feature.

Lara cringed, averting her eyes in hopes that the stained, dirty sidewalk would wipe the image away.

He had dimples.

Damn him.

Dimples on a guy—those were fatal.

“Coffee?” Dimpled and Gorgeous asked.

“What?” Lara looked up and almost sighed. She didn’t have time for a guy like him.

It’d take hours, maybe days, even, to explore that body. Weeks just to get through her own fantasies about sex with a gorgeous, dimpled guy. God knew how long it’d take if he had fantasies of his own.

Nope. She glanced at her watch. She was already late.

She risked another look at him, noting the stubborn set of his chin and the determined light in those dark blue eyes. Blue, she thought as her nipples tightened. Blue eyes and dimples. The man was toxic.

Her mental debate took all of two seconds. She wasn’t going to convince him to let her go and she couldn’t match his strength. There was only one option left.

Seduce him stupid.

Depending on the street crowd and traffic to keep her from going overboard, Lara shifted. Just an inch to one side, but the move pushed her breast against his arm, her foot brushing his so their thighs touched.

She softened her stance, offering a soft smile, then gauged his reaction through her lashes.

His eyes flared hot, his gaze narrowing. He didn’t take her silent offer, though. Since he clearly wasn’t stupid, she figured he was either a gentleman—ha—or he was waiting to see how far she’d push it.

Far enough, she decided.

“Are you sure you don’t want to meet somewhere more, um, private?” she murmured, wetting her lips and shifting so her hip bumped his at the same time. A zing of desire shot through her from hip to core—a hot, needy surprise. She let it show in her eyes, even more turned on at his instant reaction. His smile deepened and his body curved as if to welcome hers.

A guy who caught on that quick, reacted that well? What would he be like in bed? Could he read her needs as fast? Would he meet them? Lara loved the idea of fast, wild sex. So hot and intense that her brain couldn’t have time to engage.

For a second, she forgot the reason behind her flirting. In that one moment, she was totally ready to blow off classes, quit her job, move across the country. All he’d have to do was get naked and worship her body.

“Why wait?” he asked, his voice seductively low.

Why, indeed.

Someone bumped Lara, shoving her backpack into her waist, the edges of the books jabbing her like a knife. She blinked, then frowned. Why? Because she had a life, dammit, and wasn’t about to have it messed up because some guy was sexy enough to fog her brain.

Keeping that firmly in mind this time, she locked her eyes on his and leaned forward. He was so tall she had to shift onto her toes, touching the tips of her fingers to his chest for balance. And yes, because she really wanted to touch that chest. She had to work to not let herself be distracted by the hard muscles. Instead, she came within a hot breath of his lips, then gave him a sexy smile and a flutter of her lashes.

Someone jostled her again, and music pounded around them as the dancers from Circus Circus hit the sidewalk. Music and acrobatics followed as they gathered a crowd. Lara didn’t have to check the time to know it was 8:05 and that she was late for class.

“We don’t have to wait,” she assured him, tapping her finger against that deliciously hard chest. It was all she could do not to follow it up with a pet of her palm. Since she figured good girls who resisted incredible temptations deserved a little something, she let herself lean forward that last inch and brush her lips over his.

Uh-oh.

He was so yummy.

Soft, warm lips that tasted so good.

His mouth shifted as if he were about to take control. Lara figured she wouldn’t get a better shot.

Taking advantage of his distraction, she gave a swift tug and pulled her arm free. Whooping and hollering, the crowd of dancers reached them, providing Lara just enough cover to run. She sprinted into traffic, not looking over her shoulder until she hit the opposite side of the busy four-lane street.

Damn. He’d untangled himself from the feather boa and was already in the second lane. Biting her lip, Lara looked left, then right. Spotting a cab at the corner, she used her long legs to their best advantage. Ten seconds later, she threw herself in the backseat, panting to the driver to hurry.

Angling to her knees, Lara twisted to look out the rear window. The mountain was only two car lengths away.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she chanted.

The taxi driver must’ve looked in his mirror, because suddenly he laid on his horn, then, muttering, hit the gas, drove up on the sidewalk and around the lookie-loos still stopped at the light.

As the car squealed around the corner, Lara relaxed enough to wave, a little finger wiggle, at the mountain.

The guy wasn’t even winded.

Nor, she noticed as she wrinkled her nose, did he look upset.

Instead, he only grinned and waved back.

“Lover’s quarrel?” the driver asked.

“Something like that,” Lara said, settling into the seat and giving him an address.

Nerves screaming with relief, she tried to shake off the adrenaline and settle her mind.

It wasn’t fear that was dogging her, though.

She laid her head back on the cracked seat, closed her eyes and took stock of her body.

Nope.

That wasn’t fear tightening her nipples or making her thighs tremble.

That was desire. Pure, lusty need.

Figured.

The first guy to turn her on in three years showed up now, when her entire focus was on—had to stay on—finishing her computer training and getting the plum internship the school offered. Which meant no distractions, no men, no sex. She’d made a vow—this time nothing was going to get in the way of her success.

It wasn’t that vow that put him firmly off-limits, though.

Nope. Sadly, she’d ditch her vow in a heartbeat for a sexy guy. That’s how she’d lost a plum role and effectively destroyed her career when she was dancing on Broadway. She’d called in sick one weekend to run off for a romantic trip. Snowy sleigh rides in the country, a quaint bed-and-breakfast with candlelight dinners and sex. Incredible, hot, wild sex. When she’d broken her leg, her boyfriend had left her in an E.R. two hundred miles from home and she’d been fired.

A year later, she’d given up a boring but lucrative teaching job at the dance institute to follow Mr. Perfect to Reno. A smart girl learned, after enough failures, to keep her vow and focus on the career.

Still, it wasn’t the vow that had her sagging in relief over the near miss.

What put the sexy hunk with the gorgeous dimples off-limits was one simple fact: he knew her brother.

And anyone who knew any member of her family wasn’t anyone she wanted to know. Even if he did have the good taste to admit that he’d deny a relationship with Phillip, too. That was guy talk, his way of trying to charm her.

“We’re here.”

Mulling and just a few breaths away from pouting, Lara grabbed her bag, glanced at the meter, then handed the driver the last of her cash and slid from the cab.

Phillip was a SEAL?

Lara blinked, trying to take that in. She’d known he was in the Navy. He’d been at Annapolis when she’d run away. No noncom status would suit a Banks, by God, nor would the heir apparent dare skip college. Two birds, one stone, that was Phillip.

A lot of people had been surprised that he’d joined the Navy. Phillip wasn’t exactly the fighting type, the let’s-serve-our-country type or the gung-ho-sailor type. But Lara had known better. Their grandfather, great-grandfather and a fistful more greats over the years had been naval officers for various countries, and he’d always been fascinated by the stories.

So the Navy didn’t surprise her at all.

But the SEALs? That was a straight-up shock.

She tried to imagine her brother doing heroic deeds, part of an elite team in the special forces. But the picture just wouldn’t jell in her mind.

Then she shook her head.

What did it matter? She hadn’t seen her brother in eight years. And even then, they’d been strangers.

One thing she did know, though, was that then or now, Phillip wanted nothing to do with her. So whatever his buddy was up to, her brother hadn’t instigated it.

The only thing worse than gorgeous, sexy guys wanting to lead her into temptation were gorgeous, sexy guys with their own secret agenda.

Lara settled into her classroom chair, ignoring the flirtatious wink from the guy at the station next to her and the glare from the woman on the other side. She smoothed a loving hand over the computer in front of her before sighing.

Nope.

She didn’t need men, no matter how gorgeous.