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possibility.
    She’d been far too full of herself.
    But then, it did get her far. Even now, it
was getting her far. Hayes was putty in her hands. He knew she
could walk out if she decided and he knew she would. She knew he
didn’t want her to walk out.
    She also knew he desperately wanted her to
sleep with him.
    It wouldn’t happen. Not even the younger
men, the ones her age or close to it, the sexy handsome mobile and
virile-looking men had talked her into it yet. Caroline was there
to dance. To strip tease, but to dance in the only professional way
she now could.
    Her stupid foot.
    After so many years of putting up with the
aches and...
    It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let herself
dwell on it. She was dancing, with a paycheck.
    And the audience did relate better to her
job now. There were no fancy French names to know or not to know.
Technique didn’t matter as much as showmanship, as moving well, as
shaking her hips and bending and ... whatever her body felt like
doing. They understood that. Anyone could do it. Anyone could stand
up and move to the music in the way they felt it, in a way that
made them feel desirable, at least for that moment when they danced
and let themselves go. Even if they didn’t feel desirable at any
other time of their lives, they could when they danced the way she
did. You had to make yourself think you were sexy in order to look
it. They could see she thought she was. At least when she danced
she thought she was.
    As Caroline made her way backstage to wash
off the overdone makeup and put a decent amount of clothes on, she
was pulled to movement nearby. It was him, the man in the mask she
hadn’t yet seen. A closer. And my, no wonder he was a closer. In
his black skin-tight trousers and black skinny vest with no shirt
underneath that showed off his massive chest and arms, he was hot
as hell. Even standing doing nothing, he was worth a look or two.
He might even be worth a good daydream. From the distance, his hair
looked nearly as black as his clothes. His thin stretchy mask was
also black, like the Lone Ranger except it covered more. It covered
far too much of his face. One side of his jaw showed and it was a
beautiful strong swarthy jaw. Half of his forehead on the other
side showed youth but not too much youth and strength and ... and
she wanted to see the rest.
    Of his face. Caroline told herself it was
the rest of his face she wanted to see.
    He turned. Caught her staring.
    She didn’t look away. She’d taught herself
long ago that if she admired a man enough to stare, she could let
him know she did. He was too far away to see his eye color, but
close enough to see he didn’t pull away, either. He skimmed her
with a slight tilt of the head, in appreciation. She knew the
look.
    Caroline grinned and continued her path. She
would dress quick, skip washing off the makeup, and get back out to
where she could see his act, see whatever it was he had to show off
other than his body.
    She guessed his body was about it, and
enough.
     
    Dio forced himself to breathe again. She
smiled at him. Teased. And walked away.
    He wanted to say the hell with the show, his
act, and follow her, ask her for coffee or... He nearly laughed.
Coffee. Right. Like he was just any guy who could ask a girl to
coffee, and like she was a regular girl who would accept just to
see if it was worth it.
    He wasn’t. Neither was she.
    On the other hand, maybe that would make it
work.
    Chastising himself, Dio forced himself to
put it out of his mind and went to get set for his appearance. He
was only a farmer with a secret double life. Nothing for her to
see. Nothing for her to want.
    One of the other girls stroked a hand down
his shoulder and arm as he waited to go on. He didn’t remember her
name. He’d told her before he didn’t do it with coworkers but he
repeated it again in case she forgot.
    “This is my last night. I have another gig.
So how about tomorrow night? Wanna get together tomorrow
night?”
    “No.