“Oh.” She drew out the word as if everything made sense now. She grinned and pointed at him with a lazy gesture. “Porn. I could totally see that.”
He dropped his head back and laughed. The sound was so deep, so rich, so absolutely buoyant it turned just about every head in the room and made Giselle smile. And, yes, once again, she heard a little of Troy in his laugh.
“Oh damn,” he said, his voice light and happy. “That was good.”
The sizzle in her belly told her it was time to leave. This was the kind of man who could get her in big trouble.
She picked up her purse. “Look, it was nice talking to you, but I'm about done here.”
“Already? You could have gotten that”-he swung a loose gesture toward the stage-“on the Internet and saved yourself fifty bucks in drinks.”
He was right. “Well, I tried.” She stood. “It just didn't turn out to be what I needed.”
“Why don't you tell me what you're looking for? If I can't give it to you, I promise to point you in the right direction.”
She shook her head and reached for the glass, grabbing a sip for the road. “I don't think you can help me.”
She'd gotten two steps toward the door when he said, “Hope you find what you're looking for, angel. The experience makes the performer.”
Her feet stopped, his last sentence resonating in her head. In her heart. An expression she'd heard while filming her music videos. “What?” She turned to face him. “What does that mean?”
One shoulder rose in a lazy shrug. “That's why you're here, right? To gain the experience of a swingers club so you can accurately portray it…somewhere else?”
“I'm not an actress.”
He laughed softly, but the sound wasn't nearly as happy as it had been moments ago. One finger rose to slide around the rim of her half-finished snakebite, his gaze following the motion as if drifting in thought. “We're all actors to some degree, aren't we?”
That was an insightful statement. And if he was in movies, he had to know more about acting than she did-because she knew a thimbleful in an ocean of information. She didn't even act onstage in concert. While she rehearsed with a choreographer for flow and audience engagement, everything she did was natural. Everything she did was what she'd do anyway, maybe just in a different order or from a different location onstage.
This devil could easily be full of shit-they were in Las Vegas, after all, and everything here was one type of façade or another-but he also had to be someone to have a membership. Which meant he might be a great source of information.
She strolled back to stand in front of him and crossed her arms. “Go on.”
“It sounds like you're looking for the same input method actors use-drawing on an experience to research a role, gaining the emotional, psychological, physical, sensory information they need to transfer into the character they're portraying.”
When he paused, she said, “Maybe I am.”
His smile flashed, then instantly faded. “So, why don't you tell me what kind of role you're going for? If you can't find the experience here, there are several other clubs in the city that might work for you.”
She glanced away. “I can't go to those other clubs.”
The curtains reopened, and a new couple wandered onto the stage. She didn't think she could handle another show like the last. Not without coming apart at the seams.
She heaved the air from her lungs and faced the devil, but she stared at the ink disappearing beneath his shirt, wondering what he'd depicted so permanently on his skin.
“It's…just a part in a music video,” she said, “which includes simulated sex. There will be cameras and lights and costumes and makeup and crew and…”
Her throat grew so tight with the admission, she had to pause to deliberately draw air. She licked her lips. He was staring again, those dark eyes so intense, it felt like he was digging around i
n her soul.
“Anyway,” she said, growing uncomfortable, “I'll figure something out.”
“So,” he said, catching her just as she turned for the door again. She turned back to find her half-empty drink in his hand. “Why didn't you just bring your man and get it on in one of the rooms? Most guys would jump at that opportunity”-his gaze slid along her body again-“especially with a woman as gorgeous as you.”
“I don't have a man in my life at the moment.”
He laughed. “Bullshit. A woman like you always has a man-or five-in her life.”