Set Loose by Isabel Morin Page B

Brian’s covering for me.”
    Her relief was so immense she realized how scared she’d really been. Richie held the door open for her and followed her out, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes watchful.
    “I really appreciate you doing this,” she said.
    “I’m happy to do it, but I can’t take all the credit. Cutter called me earlier today and asked if I’d see you back to your room. Once he told me what had happened I figured it was the least I could do.”
    Emily stopped mid-stride, floored that Cutter had arranged this for her. Even when he was nowhere around he was looking out for her. How was she going to get over the man when he did things like this?
    Richie waited for her to catch up. “I know, what a mensch, right?” He shook his head as if baffled himself. “I can’t say I have him figured out, but he’s a good guy.”
    Emily laughed, charmed by his lighthearted manner. He wasn’t as handsome as Cutter, but there was something sweet and comforting about him at the moment. It was a far cry from his bouncer persona and it left her thinking about how changeable people were. Some people more than others.
    ***
    “Thanks for asking Richie to walk me home the other night.”
    Cutter shrugged, his hands going to his pockets. “I just thought you might be nervous.”
    “You were right, I was,” she said, watching the play of emotions cross Cutter’s face. Concern, discomfort, embarrassment. Why did he make everything so complicated?
    They were standing in the back hallway, not far from the VIP room. Emily was in full costume, though full probably wasn’t the most accurate description of it, seeing as how her first performance tonight would be as Salomé. She’d choreographed her own striptease version of the dance of the seven veils, throwing in a few moves inspired by the Salomé ballet she once danced.
    She could see Cutter making an effort to keep his eyes trained on her face, and it made her feel just a little better that the transparent, jewel-colored scarves drifting around her were proving to be such a distraction. Maybe he wasn’t as in control as he seemed.
    “Is there a problem, here?” Steve asked, coming toward them down the hallway, his habitual scowl firmly in place.
    “No, no problem,” Cutter replied, looking a touch guilty. “I was just heading onto the floor.”
    Cutter walked away and Steve looked Emily up and down. “Nice, babe. They’re gonna love it.”
    And they did love it. It was her best performance so far, certainly her most creative, and she even did it to instrumental music with a lot of sitar and exotic flair. One by one she sent each veil drifting down to the stage, the men watching her like she was the sexist woman on earth. And she felt like it, too. She was a woman out of mythology, a biblical seductress come to life to mesmerize her followers. Her body floated through the air, and she could almost smell the incense burning, feel the hot wind.
    Then she looked out into the audience and there was Cutter, caught up in her spell. following every move like she knew he would be.
    By the time she came off stage she was as aroused as the audience, her mind full of Cutter and their wild kiss.
    But she couldn’t get near him. He kept his distance the rest of the night, paying attention to her only when she was onstage. She knew him well enough by now to understand that he watched her reluctantly, against his will. Which meant he felt something for her and was trying to deny it. But why?
    She walked offstage after her third striptease, emptied her money into her locker, and headed back out to work the floor, her engines revving. Between stripping and watching Cutter without being able to touch him, she was feeling dangerous.
    She strolled around the room, leaning closer to the patrons than usual, touching an arm, throwing her head back and laughing at every effort to amuse her. Another girl started dancing to “Some Girls,” a naughty and politically incorrect