I stared at the stage, my nerves controlling me, my heart racing. I knew my hands would be shaking if I didn't have them closed into tight fists.

I felt his gaze on me, this dark, penetrating focus that had me acutely aware of my surroundings. I took a deep breath, and I walked over to the stage, took the three steps that were required to get onto it, and set my bag down.

“If you need to change, there's a small dressing room off to the left.” His voice was so deep, dark, and commanding.

I glanced over my shoulder at him and stared right into his eyes. This wasn't my first stripping job, and certainly wasn't the first time I had auditioned, obviously, but for some reason I was scared shitless.

“I don't need to change. I came prepared.”

The thigh-high jacket I wore was cinched tightly around my waist with a tie. I undid it and slipped the jacket off my body and tossed it aside. I slipped off my ballet flats and bent down to open up the duffel bag. I pulled out my black patent leather stilettos and slipped them on.

My heart was thundering, and I could feel it beating rapidly at the base of my throat. Once I had the bag moved out of the way, I turned around and faced Cole. He watched me with this unreadable expression, his face partially covered in shadows, his big body seeming imposing.

He lifted his hand, and I saw he held a small remote. A second later music started playing from speakers overhead.

“When you're ready, Jana.”

The way he said my name had shivers racing up my spine. It sounded so intimate, like he knew me, had seen every part of my body previously. It was like he knew who I was and he’d anticipated this moment.

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and focused on the task at hand. I was here to impress him, to show him that I'd be an asset to his business.

I opened my eyes and walked over to the silver bar. I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around the gleaming pole, feeling the metal warm under my touch.

The music continued to play overhead, a softer, seductive tone, but also having this bite to it. I started moving. The outfit I wore was a minuscule skirt with pink lace around the edge. The top stopped at my midriff with the plunging neckline and the same lace around the bodice, accentuating my cleavage.

For stripper standards I was pretty much overdressed, but the clothing would come off the more I got into the song and dance.

I only focused on what I was doing and not on the fact that Cole was just a few feet away, his intense gaze burning holes in the back of my head. I felt him watching me, like fingers skating over my bare flash. Goose bumps popped out along my arms, and this chill raced over me.

I started moving then, pressing my body against the pole, swaying my hips, and making anyone who watched desire me. That was the goal, to make them want me even though they knew they couldn't have me. The more I got into it, the hotter the room became.

My eyes were still closed, my focus still on the dancing. The moves were sensual, seductive. They were a mix of my ballet and the eroticism I felt knowing I was being watched … that I held the power.

And then I moved away from the pole and started undoing my top, still swaying my hips, still being sexual. I let the material slide down my body until it fell to the floor. My breasts were freed, bared. Even though I felt hot, the air touching my nipples seemed chilled, making the tips pucker, elongate. I kept my bottoms on, though, because a little mystery always turned them on more.

The music turned off suddenly, and I was pulled out of my haze, my trance. I faced Cole, staring directly into his eyes. He hadn't moved and seemed unaffected by my dance.

He sat there with arrogance, this air about him that made me feel like I was naked for him, and not just in the obvious sense.

Had I not enticed him, teased him? His unreadable expression made me even more nervous. But I wouldn't let that show, wouldn't let him know that I was on edge, wondering what he thought.

Cole stood up then and walked toward me. He was only a foot from the stage now, his head slightly tipped back so he could look me in the face.

“You're hired, but I have stipulations.”

Stipulations?

“Come back to the club tomorrow night to sign paperwork and discuss the legalities of it all.”

The way he spoke was so formal, but I reminded myself this was a business transaction. Stripper or not, this was a way for me to make money, and him as well. The way I felt, the way he made me feel, was not relevant in this situation. For all I knew, I was just another girl that he’d hired.

And damn it, I didn’t like how that realization made me feel.