Too bad he’s a guest here. Completely off limits.
He stopped in front of the stage and sat down in an empty seat.
I continued to dance and do my best to not make a show of ogling him.
It was odd to care about one man among an ocean of them. Men always flirted. Usually, I ignored the guests. But tonight was a weird evening.
For example, I had this creepy guy in the corner, begging me to go off with him. I’d explained several times that I wasn’t a prostitute and there were plenty of them strolling around the castle, willing to please.
Still, he hadn’t let up.
“Yes!” The creepy guy slung twenty dollar bills at my feet. “Come over here, please. I just want to say one more thing.”
What now?
Stifling my annoyance, I turned away from the mysterious man and plastered a fake smile on my face. The music shifted to a more upbeat tune. I spun around and moved over to Mr. Creepy.
“Yes. There you go.” He wagged bills in the air. “Come over and talk to me for a little bit.”
Mr. Creepy peeled off a twenty and held it out as if I was going to jump on my knees to get it.
Sweetie, I don’t need it that bad.
My boss, Blake Meade, paid me well.
I’d been a ballet dancer long ago, performing on many stages. A fractured tibia ended my career. I couldn’t walk without a limp for years. It took time to dance again.
The only problem was that now I was in my mid-thirties and ballet was a young girls game. All theater doors shut when they saw me approach.
When Mr. Meade found me, he offered me a high-paying position. He’d been a fan from before the injury and needed a dancer in the high-roller rooms where almost anything happened. There, I was not only expected to dance, but I was supposed to keep my eye out for any suspicious behavior. If I thought there was anything odd happening, I was to tell the nearest guard.
“Please.” Mr. Creepy waved me over. “Just a little talk. Surely, you’re tired and need a rest.”
I lowered and sat down. Meanwhile, other dancers swayed and turned all over the stage.
Mr. Creepy placed the twenty on the ground next to me. “Do your feet hurt? I would love to massage them.”
“They’re fine. I’m used to dancing in heels.”
“Can I take off your shoes?”
I quirked my brows. “Why?”
“Your feet are so beautiful.” He moved his gaze to them. “Such a lovely color of red on your toes. I won’t even need to paint them later.”
I leaned away. “Paint them later? What?”
He extended his hands. “Do you mind, if I help you out of your shoes?”
“I’m not taking them off.” I began to rise. “Have a nice evening.”
“Wait!” Mr. Creepy rushed his hands into his suit pocket and pulled out tons of bills. “I have more money.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to go over—”
“Not yet.” He grabbed my arm and brought me back down to a sitting position.
“Excuse me.” I tried to yank my arm back.
The grip tightened. “Come outside to the garden with me. I’ll give you a thousand dollars just to touch your feet. Just one touch and that’s it. I like your—”
A deep voice boomed over the music. “Let her go!”
Mr. Creepy and I looked up.
The handsome stranger stood next to us. His guards circled around us with their guns out and pointed at his head. Several members of the party’s security team appeared seconds later.
Meanwhile, the orgy continued.
Mr. Creepy’s lips quivered in fear. “Reo, h-how did you get all the way over here?”
Reo. So that’s the handsome stranger’s name.
Danger blazed in Reo’s eyes. “Let go of her arm.”
Mr. Creepy released it. I scooted away, but didn’t rise. Two guys grabbed him—one by each arm. The guns stayed trained on him. Mr. Meade’s security displayed confused and baffled expressions.
This triggered a small amount of chaos. Some of the dancers shrieked and rushed off the stage. Most of the orgy continued their sexual enjoyment. Other masked couples rushed off.
What the hell?
Reo’s men led Mr. Creepy away.
The DJ shifted to low tempo music as if wanting to calm the commotion. I was thankful for that. My heart boomed in my ears. In shock, I remained sitting, needing to get my bearings.
Reo remained at the stage with his gaze on me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. “Thank you for helping.”
“My pleasure.”
“However, security would have gotten him. That could have been dangerous for you.”
“Mr. Meade’s guards aren’t qualified to deal with someone like him. It was better that my people stepped in.”
I quirked my brows. “Still, thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t give out my name here.”
The line of his jaw twitched as if he was displeased with the response. “Then, where would you tell me your name?”
I gave him a soft smile. “A park. A nice café. Anywhere else, but an orgy.”