Susan stared at the blank computer screen then glanced at the written instructions provided by Jennifer’s harried assistant.
“What are you doing?” Maggie halted beside Susan’s desk in the office at Maxwell’s.
“I’m trying to decide what to put on my blog. I was going to go ahead with the post on burlesque, but I checked out the posts written by other entrants and they’ve all written introductory posts about themselves and their interests.”
“So?” Maggie said.
Julia popped her head into the office. “Susan, it’s only half an hour before you’re due on stage.”
Susan glanced at the clock on her screen. “Bother. I’m on my way to the dressing room.”
“Connor brought his camera. We’ll get some shots tonight. I thought we’d take a few of you getting ready, if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” Susan said, already shifting to show-mode. “I’ll take care of this later.”
It was almost three when Susan unlocked the front door of the apartment she shared with Christina. Although the first day of filming had taken place two days before, her mind still whirled with astonishment. Nolan Penrith was playing games and doing it in a public arena. How to react—that was the problem.
The answer popped into her mind like a magical genie.
Act like herself.
If Nolan didn’t like the person she was, that was his problem. No way did she intend to change her natural personality to please a man. Been there and hadn’t liked the T-shirt.
She powered up her laptop. Time to write her post and stop stressing about the contents. No sheep behavior for her. Yes, she’d do her own thing. She took a deep breath and started writing.
Last year, I worked for an inner city accounting firm. My best friends worked there too, but now we’ve gone on to do other things. Julia took over the management of Maxwell’s when her mother’s health deteriorated. All of us helped her while she rebranded the club and reopened. That was when I discovered I have a talent for dancing. I not only enjoy performing, but it helped me to climb out of the deep rut I’d fallen into. It turns out dancing and physical exercise is character building too, and I think I’ve changed for the better.
A win-win situation all the way around.
Yes, I’m a burlesque dancer. Yes, I wear skimpy costumes and sometimes I take off my clothes. Some people will call what I do stripping. Their problem, not mine.
Burlesque has been around for a long time with some saying the art goes back to Greek times. During the 19th century, dancers performed burlesque for the lower classes, and the management and choreographers used the form of expression to poke fun at those in the upper classes. Nothing like thumbing your nose at the rich and getting paid for it! When audience numbers dwindled, the women donned skimpy costumes to attract a larger crowd. Really controversial during staid Victorian times where even chair and piano legs were covered so as to avoid offense, although it made good business sense.
Give the men something they don’t get at home. A simple demand and supply situation.
Susan’s computer let out a beep, indicating the arrival of an email. She clicked the icon and spotted a message from Maggie. Her friend had attached several of the photos Connor had snapped during the night. A slow grin spread across her face. The pictures were perfect and a step up from the cat and dog photos the other participants had posted on their blogs.
Susan resized a photo of her in the dressing room, applying her stage makeup and another of her onstage. Connor had caught her saucy smile as she looked over the top of her feather fans.
It’s no secret that Maxwell’s, in its former guise of The Last Frontier, used to be a strip club, but what most people don’t realize is that originally, the club offered burlesque performances, and Julia Maxwell, the manager of Maxwell’s, has taken things full circle to the beginning.
We still do pole dancing, but I challenge you to come and watch our show. There is nothing tacky about the acts. Maxwell’s is class all the way. The pole dancing is very popular for hen’s parties, and everyone joins in, learning the basics and having a lot of fun.
Maxwell’s is a place where both sexes come to relax, have a few drinks and enjoy the nightly entertainment.
At first, I was dubious about dancing, but most of you wouldn’t recognize me on stage. You could pass me on the street and not see me as the woman who danced in front of you the previous evening. Well…that is until I appeared on national television. I figure you might notice me now.
I started dancing to help my friend save her mother’s club. I did it out of friendship and because I know she’d help me if ever I needed her. Julia is a stern taskmaster. Every muscle in my body ached the day after our first practice session. I walked like a duck for a week before finally, my muscles adapted to the exercise and my fitness levels increased. Slowly, dancing began to feel like second nature.
These days I find burlesque an excellent form of stress release. I’m fitter, healthier and a dress size smaller than I used to be. Score! But I’m also happy. I’ve found my niche at the club. Some people might judge me—believe me, in the past I would have numbered amongst you—but I’ve grown during the last year. I’ve learned doing something that makes you happy is just as important as finding someone to share your happiness.
One of my friends took some photos for me to include with my post. The first photo is of me getting ready to perform. The makeup and costume is a huge part of burlesque, and after much practice, I’ve managed to become an expert. The second photo shows me in action on stage, doing a fan dance. I dare you to tell me this picture is disgusting.
The next step in the Farmer Seeks a Wife competition will prove interesting. I sent in my application because I was lonely and wanted to find a man who accepted me and my quirks.
Despite my occupation, I’m pretty ordinary. I enjoy moonlit walks, days at the beach and dinners out. Expensive meals aren’t necessary, since fish and chips on the beach can be just as enjoyable as the most expensive five-star meal at a top restaurant. Togetherness and common interests are important, and that’s what I’m looking for in a husband. I want a man to make me laugh, to hold me when I’m sad and to support me in everything I do. In return, I’ll look after him, shower him with love and honesty. I’ll give my everything.
If you have any questions about burlesque, have at it. I’ll be happy to chat with you.
Susan’s lips twisted, mocking herself, as she proofread her post. She’d receive rude messages and, no doubt, a few crank emails. At the very least, Julia would garner publicity for the club. She read her post a final time, made a few small adjustments and hit send.
Her area of the forum remained empty, but she saw she’d received emails already. The first message made her stomach buck and not in a good way. With a shaky hand, she hit delete. She shuddered and rubbed her hands together, imaginary cooties crawling over her arms and legs.
Her trembling fingers communicated with the cursor, and she had to concentrate to hit the next email in her inbox.
Dear Susan,
My name is Tyler Penrith, and yes, the name should be familiar to you—I’m Nolan’s younger brother.
I want to apologize for my brother’s rudeness, and I can’t believe the numbskull flashed your butt to national television viewers. While most men—if they are gentlemen—would apologize and assure you they didn’t peek, I’m gonna hit you with honesty. I looked and loved the view. You’re an attractive lady. Learning about your job just intrigued me more. You possess layers and are like a complex perfume and I find myself wanting to learn more.
Susan found herself grinning. No one had ever compared her to a perfume before, and she rather liked the contrast.
If my idiot brother doesn’t choose you during the next elimination, would you consider me?
I am a widower with a four-year-old daughter. My wife died of cancer over two years ago now, and as much as I love my daughter and have incredibly supportive in-laws, I find myself wanting more. Sure, I have friends in Clare, and I get out occasionally, but seeing you on television tonight was the first time I’ve found myself attracted to a woman. Go figure! The woman I’d like to get to know better is out of bounds because of my brother.
If you’d ever like someone to talk to, I’m here. I’m not a gossip and would never pass on any confidential information should you care to use me as a sounding block. I’m including my phone number along with my private email address if you’d like to contact me. If you’re as savvy as I think you are, you’ll want to check me out. The number is in the phone directory under my in-laws name. Katey and I live with my in-laws, Eric and Josie Murdoch.
Eric and Josie own a farm and I work as a general hand for them, doing a bit of everything. I’m twenty-five years old—yeah, a little younger than you, but don’t let that put you off. In life experience, I’m older. I grew up quickly with a child and a sick wife because I had to. In my spare time, I enjoy rugby and like to draw and paint. Like you, I’m looking for that special someone who gets me, despite my flaws, someone who is sexy and honest and not afraid of the hard work necessary to make a successful relationship.
I hope you’ll take my offer seriously, and at least take pity on me, letting me down gently if you’re not interested. I won’t like it, but my ego will no doubt recover. My daughter is a handful and keeps me busy. I won’t have time to sulk.
Since I know what you look like, I’ve attached a snapshot of me and Katey. Nolan and I don’t look much alike. My mother says I take after my father’s side of the family.
Best wishes,
Tyler Penrith
Susan found herself holding her breath as she clicked on the attachment. The photo appeared on the screen and her breath whooshed out. Tyler Penrith was a cutie with dark chocolate brown hair and brown eyes. One dimple flashed at the right side of his impish grin. The child in his arms had the same mischievous smile twinkling in her brown eyes but had blonde hair. Their heads were close together, and they were both staring into the camera.
Tyler didn’t look anything like Nolan. Together, the two brothers would be like night and day. A cliché—sure—but Nolan was a burly man with brown hair and sun-streaks of blond from working outdoors while Tyler brought to mind dark nights, silky sheets and…
Stop right there, Susan. She was committed to the show. Yet every instinct told her to email Tyler back. No, she needed to think about her next step first. She’d jumped too soon before and landed in a pile of steaming crap. She’d talk to her friends tomorrow, show them the email and hear their thoughts.
To distract herself, she clicked on the next email. Eew! That was disgusting. She hit delete and steeled herself for the next one. Hit delete. The last two emails were from church groups, decrying her profession. They went into the trash.
Unable to help herself, she clicked on Tyler’s photo again, smiling in response to his happy expression. The humor in his eyes and the echo in his daughter’s face wiped away the filth from the other emails and brought a surge of hope. She wasn’t a lost cause, despite what her family thought. Her friends believed in her, and even better, she believed in herself.
Susan waited until after their usual Saturday dance practice. She, Christina and Julia were relaxing with a cup of peppermint tea when Maggie and Connor breezed into the club.
“Do you guys have time to watch Connor’s game?” Maggie asked. “It’s a beautiful day outside and I could do with the company.”
“I’m in, but I’ll have to bring Alex with me,” Julia said.
“We can help keep an eye on him,” Maggie said.
“Count me in,” Christina said.
“Are you okay?” Susan asked. “You look tired.”
Christina gave a heartfelt sigh and took off her glasses to rub a smear from the lenses. Without the disguise, it was easy to see she wasn’t sleeping. “I’ve been staying with my godmother. She’s not well again, and I’m worried about her. She refuses to go to the doctor.”
“Anything we can do?” Maggie asked.
Christina shoved her glasses back into place. “Not really. I need to persuade her to make a doctor’s appointment. I’m working on it. I’d like to go to the game. The fresh air will probably do me good.”
“I did my first blog last night,” Susan said. “And I’ve already had half a dozen emails.” She screwed up her nose. “Most weren’t very polite.”
“Most?” asked Connor.
Susan grinned and picked up her phone. She thumbed to the photo of Tyler and his daughter and handed it to Christina. “This is Tyler, Nolan’s younger brother. He wrote me a really nice email offering himself as a prospective candidate if his older brother rejects me at the next stage.”
“Cute,” Christina said, passing Susan’s phone to Julia. “What happened to the kid’s mother?”
“He said his wife died of cancer a few years ago,” Susan said.
“Are you sure he’s who he says he is?” Connor demanded.
“He gave me his phone number and his email address, told me his name and gave me personal details. He didn’t come across as a creep, but he told me I was welcome to check him out.”
“Send me his details,” Connor said. “I’ll do it for you.”
Susan nodded, happy to accept the offer. Connor was the computer wizard, and he’d know exactly where to look.
Julia cocked her head, her blonde curls swinging against her cheek with the action. “You like him.”
“Yeah. I shouldn’t. He’s three years younger than me,” Susan said.
“Three years is nothing,” Maggie said. “You seem more excited about him than his brother. I say go for it.”
“After I’ve checked him out,” Connor said in a stern voice.
Susan gave him a cocky salute. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll do my searches tonight and let you know by tomorrow at the latest.”
“Thanks,” Susan said. “I appreciate it.”
“You’re going to cheer my team on this afternoon,” Connor said. “It’s the least I can do in return.”
“Tyler Penrith is who he says he is,” Connor said the next day after yet another dance practice. “Nothing bad jumped out at me during my searches.”
“So what are you going to do?” Maggie asked.
“I’m not sure. I have my group date on Wednesday afternoon. We have to meet Nolan at Downtown and were told to wear comfortable clothes and footwear.”
Julia frowned. “You don’t know what you’re going to do or where he’s taking you?”
“No, which makes it difficult to know what to wear,” Susan said.
“Do you know where the other farmers are taking their dates?” Christina asked.
Susan jumped to her feet and started pacing. “No, I asked, but they’re not telling us anything.”
“The comfortable shoes direction makes me think there will be walking,” Connor said.
“Wear your runners—the black ones or a pair of comfy boots,” Christina said. “The weather could do anything, but check the forecast. I’d go for layers. Jeans and a shirt with a vest and a waterproof jacket. A colorful scarf and maybe a hat.”
“Take a small daypack instead of a purse,” Maggie suggested. “That way if you need to peel off layers, it will be easier to carry them.”
Susan discovered the women’s idea of comfortable dress varied considerably when she joined Nolan’s group at Downtown, not far from the Britomart train station. Only three of them wore flat shoes. Susan had kept her makeup light and natural and wore a sage green beanie to counteract the wind whistling along Quay Street.
A cameraman—the same one who’d delighted in her mishaps—stood beside Nolan, his camera already panning their faces and recording their reactions to Nolan. Susan stood quietly, surveying her competition.
“Put us out of our suspense,” one of the women demanded.
“We’re catching the ferry to Rangitoto and will do some exploring,” Nolan said. “I’ve organized water bottles and a snack pack for us. When we come back we’re going to the top of Sky Tower for dinner.”
The woman standing next to Susan gave an audible groan. “I hate walking. I’m gonna freeze my butt off.”
Susan snuck a glance at the woman’s shoes and mentally added sore feet to the equation. She listened to the other comments and smiled inwardly. This outing was a clever way of weeding out the candidates who wouldn’t cope with living in the countryside. If they couldn’t handle a little walking, they sure as heck wouldn’t hack it in Clare where Nolan lived and farmed.
“The ferry is this way,” Nolan said.
Susan followed the group with a sense of anticipation. She hadn’t visited Rangitoto Island for years, not since a long ago school trip. The views of the city from the summit were wonderful, and she was glad she’d listened to Connor and packed her camera. A few snapshots would make a welcome addition to her blog.
Nolan made a point of speaking with all of them individually and did well with recalling their names.
“Susan,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.” His gaze took in her clothes and she thought she caught a flash of approval. “You’ve created a tempest in Clare. Most people think I should give you a wide berth.”
And just like that he dispelled her happy bubble. Susan lifted her chin and met his gaze with a glare. She was trying hard not to slip into her old judgmental ways, but this man poked holes in her confidence.
“You’ll have to decide if you agree,” she said. “This is a nice treat. I haven’t set foot on Rangitoto in years.”
His direct gaze sliced and diced again until one of the other women claimed his attention. Susan fell into step with Cherry and offered her a smile.
“You’re the dancer,” she said.
“That’s part of my job description.” Susan could feel her good mood taking a wet ’n’ wild slide toward insecure.
“I couldn’t do what you do. I’d feel so exposed.”
“Dancing is a rush, and I’ve never been in such good shape in all my life.” Enough about her job. “Have you always lived in the city?”
“Yes. At least Clare doesn’t seem too isolated. Some of the farmers live and work in really remote areas.”
“Nolan said the farm is still half an hour from the township.”
“That far?” The woman frowned. “He told me about the beautiful scenery. I assumed the town was closer.”
“Is that a problem?” Susan asked.
“I guess not. I mean Nolan is gorgeous. His boots are welcome under my bed any time.” The woman whispered the last and cast a sidelong glance in Nolan’s direction.
“Yes, he is attractive. I’m looking forward to learning more about him.” She wondered if she could slip in a few questions about his family. Connor had given Tyler a genuine stamp. The information on him was patchy, though, and not enough to quench her curiosity.
The ferry ride was a short one, and Susan stood at the stern, enjoying the fresh sea air and watching the flit of yachts as they zapped back and forth across the waves, their colorful sails billowing in the gusts of wind. The panoramic view of the city buildings, bathed in autumn sun, caught her eye and she fumbled inside her pack for her camera.
“I have to say,” Nolan said, coming to stand beside her, “that the city looks good from this angle.”
“As nice as the view from your house?” Susan asked.
“They’re each pretty in their own way.”
There was a moment of companionable silence between them.
“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Susan asked finally.
“A younger brother. Tyler.”
“Does he work on the farm with you?”
“No, he lives with his in-laws and works on his father-in-law’s farm.”
“He’s married?”
“A widower. His wife died a few years ago.”
Susan nodded. “That must have been rough.”
Nolan shrugged, and Susan knew she couldn’t ask more questions without him asking questions in return.
“I have two sisters, both married.”
His expression sharpened. “Older or younger?”
Susan sighed, knowing exactly where this conversation would head. “Both younger than me, married with children.”
“But you’re not married.”
“No.” She’d come close, thought she’d found the one. Twice. And both times she’d regained possession of her trampled heart with her confidence in tatters.
His brows rose, a silent prompt for her to continue. “If I were married, I wouldn’t be on Farmer Seeks a Wife,” she said. “What do your parents think about you being on a reality show?”
“What do yours think about you?”
“Snap,” she said. “My mother loathes the publicity caused by her delinquent daughter.”
“My mother, on the other hand, is following proceedings closely since she was the one who sent in my application.” His dry tone filled in some gaps. Namely, that he hadn’t come willingly.
“You don’t want a wife?”
“I’m not averse to the idea,” he said. “But I like to do my own choosing.”
“I hear you. My mother and sisters are always trying to fix me up with suitable men when I go home to Hamilton. Blind dates are awkward.”
“On that we agree.”
“I’m like most of the women who applied for the show. I’d like someone to share my life, but if it doesn’t happen I’ve realized that’s okay too. I have great friends—ones who’d go the extra mile for me if I asked for a favor. Settling for second best to make my family happy won’t do much for my contentment.”
He nodded and moved out of the way of a deck hand as the captain backed the ferry up to the wharf. “That’s true.”
Susan disembarked with the rest of the women and moved aside to take photos. She strode back to the hovering group. “Can I take a group shot?”
The women clustered around Nolan. “Say sexy farmer,” Susan said and clicked the shutter when everyone laughed. She examined the shot. “Nice photo.”
“Everyone ready to walk to the summit?” Nolan asked.
“I’d like to catch the cute train,” one of the women said.
A couple of the others agreed and went off to buy tickets. The rest of them started the walk along the scoria paths. Weird lava shapes studded the landscape, remnants of the eruption over six hundred years ago. Native pohutukawa trees poked from crevices and Susan snapped a photo of a rock that reminded her of one of the Lord of the Rings movie characters.
Gradually their group broke into twos and threes with a couple of the women sticking to Nolan and peppering him with flirtation. Susan didn’t bother to compete, merely enjoying the walk and stopping to take photos whenever tempted.
But the giggles of the other women eventually intruded and tumbled her back into the present. She shot a glance to her right and saw Nolan grinning down at a shapely blonde—Cherry or Anna. Susan couldn’t remember her name. While the man was smiling, he managed to distance himself as well. Despite putting on a good game face, he didn’t want to be here, she thought. Yet he’d gone ahead with the reality show anyway to please his mother.
Another reason to avoid him.
She did not want a mommy’s boy.
Frowning at her discovery, she took a moment to stop and capture the view of the central city and the thrust of the Sky Tower. A penis-symbol for sure. The tower jolted her mind in the direction of men and her current man-drought. There came a time when a vibrator wasn’t enough and only the solid weight of a man moving against her body would dissipate her hunger.
Since she seemed to put her foot in her mouth every time she spoke with Nolan, she’d have to look elsewhere.
But where?
Tyler.
Her inner rebel came out to play. Tyler’s face floated into her mind, his grin, his protective arm around his daughter. Connor vouched for him, and Nolan had confirmed some of the details. Still, she hesitated. He was Nolan’s younger brother, and that felt weird.
They’d continued to correspond—just friendly notes about their interests and their daily routines. Tyler worked hard on his father-in-law’s farm and seemed to be fully involved in his daughter’s life, although he admitted that if it wasn’t for his mother-in-law, he’d be in trouble. He spoke fondly of Eric and Josie, and it was obvious he liked and admired his in-laws.
More telling perhaps was that he seldom mentioned his own parents or Nolan. Instead she learned about fencing, sundry farming chores and Tyler’s painting. He seemed passionate about art.
Aware she was lagging, Susan put on a burst of speed, jogging up to the crest of a small hill. At the back of her mind, she realized she wasn’t even puffing and pride surged with an inner cheer. Julia might act the stern taskmaster when it came to dancing, but all that training was paying off big time.
Finally, their group reached the spot where the train was parked, ready to make the return journey. Susan wandered in the rear, the gravel path crunching beneath her boots. The gravel gave way to a boardwalk, which led up the last rise to the summit. Since it was the middle of the week, most of the other visitors were tourists. Nolan and his harem didn’t attract attention.
“This way, ladies,” Nolan said. “We have lunch boxes for everyone in the clearing over here.”
An assistant—a pencil-thin Asian male—appeared from the direction Nolan indicated and had a muffled conversation with the cameraman before turning to face them. “Ladies, before you eat, Jennifer wants me to organize one-on-one chats for each of you with Nolan. These will be filmed and some shown during Thursday’s show. This will also give Nolan an opportunity to get to know you better and help him to decide who to choose for the next stage.”
“How many of us are eliminated this time?” a blonde asked.
Susan frowned when she realized most of the women were blonde. Interesting.
“Nolan needs to eliminate two today and another three next week,” the assistant said. “We’ll do your interviews in alphabetical order.” He consulted his clipboard. “Elle, you’re up first. We have a private spot set up over here. If you’ll follow me.”
Nolan gestured for Elle—a strawberry blonde—to precede him and the pair followed the assistant.
“Are you nervous?” one of the women asked Susan.
“Not really,” Susan said. “After flashing my butt at the camera, I figure things can’t get much worse.”
The woman chuckled. “I saw that. I felt bad for you and at the same time I was glad it wasn’t me.”
Susan clicked a photo of the women as they opened their lunches. “I wonder what sort of questions Nolan will ask us.”
“I hate to think,” the woman said.
Elle appeared on the track and ambled over to the group. “Cherry, you’re next.”
“What were the questions like?” Susan asked.
“You have to pick a sealed envelope then Nolan opens it and reads out the three questions.” She giggled. “He asked about my first kiss.”
Cherry went off and came back, her cheeks scarlet. “He asked if I enjoyed sex. If that portion airs on television, I’m going to be mortified. My parents watched the first show. My grandparents. Oh, Jasmine. It’s your turn.”
Susan’s gut did a nasty buck, her confidence sailing in an arc to fall to the pit of her stomach with a crash. Oh, goody. She had a sex question to look forward to, and she’d have to wait until the end because her surname was Webb.
Jasmine returned, grinning. “Your turn, Maxine. He asked me to tell him about my favorite sexual position.”
Susan felt her mouth drop open and snapped it shut. The questions seemed to becoming more personal. “What did you say?”
“Reverse cowgirl,” Jasmine said. “That’s what the couple in the erotic romance I’m reading was doing, so I went with gut instinct and lied. I’d better warn my parents about this next segment of the show, but I guess they did say the show would be adult rated.”
“As long as they don’t expect to film us having sex,” Susan muttered.
Maxine returned, shaking her head. “Lucy, you’re up.”
“Tough question?” Susan asked.
“He asked me if I’d be willing to let a man tie me up. I said no way, no how. If there was any tying up, I was the one who was gonna be doing it. With all the hype about that BDSM novel, he was probably disappointed with my answer,” Maxine said.
“Wow,” Elle said. “I think I lucked out with my question. Talking about a first kiss is much easier.”
Foreboding shot to new heights in Susan. She watched the remaining girls disappear to meet with Nolan then it was her turn for questions.
“Why do I feel as if I’m about to appear before the firing squad?” she asked Nolan before she remembered that blasted cameraman. She shot a quick glance at the camera and sure enough, she saw a smirking mouth beneath the camera housing.
She sank onto the picnic blanket, relieved when she didn’t suffer any clothing malfunctions.
“Are you nervous?” Nolan’s eyes laughed at her.
“Should I be?” she countered.
His mouth twitched. “Since there was only one envelope left, I opened it before you arrived.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Bring it.”
The cameraman sniggered.
Nolan flashed a grin before his gaze went to a single sheet of white paper. From where she sat, she couldn’t read the questions. Blast. “Question number one: do you prefer your men to wear boxers or briefs?”
Okay, that wasn’t so bad. “Neither,” she said.
There was a moment of startled silence. The cameraman made a choking sound behind his camera.
“You prefer commando?” Nolan asked.
“Well, I can live with commando some of the time because, I mean, it’s so convenient when you’re in a hurry.” Where on earth was this coming from? She was channeling her inner bimbo—that was clear. “But mostly a man should wear boxer-briefs. You get great support plus you look good,” she said, her sugar-sweet tone daring him to take umbrage at her reply.
Nolan’s lips quivered again, and he cleared his throat. “Great answer. Uh, the next question—this one is mine because I’m curious. I’ve done some research on your burlesque. I know your dancers do the fan dance at the club. How many garments are you left wearing at the end of the fan dance?”
“Are you trying to get me to admit I’m a stripper?”
“Answer the question, please.”
“The object of the fan dance is to titillate and make those in the audience wonder if they’ll catch a glimpse of the dancer’s body. Part of the dance is removing the top without revealing extra skin to the audience.”
“Do you do the fan dance?”
Susan sucked in a quick breath. Curse the man. “Yes, I am one of dancers at Maxwell’s who do the fan dance.”
“Which means you’re technically a person who takes off their clothes to entertain,” he said in a silky voice.
Why bother arguing? “That is correct.”
“How do you get off the stage without anyone seeing your scantily clad body?”
“I’ve answered more than three questions, but for your information—I leave the stage when the curtain comes down. The only people who are backstage are the other dancers and my friends. I do not flaunt my nudity. Maxwell’s is a decent club with a good reputation, and we have so many applicants to join our dance team we don’t have to advertise.”
“Hmm,” Nolan said. “I still don’t understand why you’d want to live in the country when it’s obvious your job skills require an urban setting.”
Susan bit back the tumble of words that battered her brain in a demand for freedom. She took a deep breath. “Smug, arrogant men are not a turn on.”
The cameraman let loose one of his chuckles and kept right on filming.
“Is that all?” Susan demanded. “I want to take more photos before we have to leave to catch the ferry.”
“One last question,” Nolan said. “What is your biggest sexual fantasy?”
She cringed a little inside. Her mother would watch this. She’d probably laugh, but that wasn’t the point.
“Cat got ya tongue?” The daredevil gleam in Nolan’s eyes told her he expected her to balk.
“I think sex should express the love between a man and a woman. There should be passion and lust, but those emotions should be tempered with honesty, caring and laughter. If I were honest, I’d have to say that my biggest sexual fantasy would be to please my partner in bed. The pleasure should flow in both directions.”
“But that’s not a fantasy, is it? You’re sidestepping the question.”
Susan’s hands clenched in her lap and heat layered on top of layer in her face. “All right. I fantasize about being alone on an island with one special man. We play hide and seek, but there’s an edge to the game because if he captures me within half an hour he gets to spank me and tie me up so I’m at his mercy. That’s his favorite kink,” she added. “Me, I’m determined to outwit him because in return I get a sexual slave for the rest of the day who will do whatever I want, get me off how I want. Would you like more detail?”
“Yes,” said the cameraman.
Nolan gave a curt nod.
“It’s really a win-win situation for me,” Susan said. “Because I get off on my lover tying me up and spanking makes me so hot I start creaming at the first love tap. But I don’t like to make it easy for my lover. I creep into the forest and find a hiding place. In the distance, I hear a shout, the signal the search has commenced. My heart is thumping so loud I wonder if he’ll hear. My nipples are hard—did I mention I’m wearing an itty-bitty bikini? No? Okay, that’s what I’m wearing and it’s not doing a good job of hiding my sexual response.
“Time ticks away. Ten minutes. Fifteen.
“My muscles are cramping from crouching in position for too long. I shift my weight and then it happens. In my uncomfortable shifting, I put my weight on a stick. A sharp crack rings out. My heartbeat goes crazy. I swallow. Maybe he hasn’t heard?
“Another five minutes pass, and I become aware of insects. They’re biting my skin in tender places. A cramping pain starts in my foot. I bite my tongue and stand carefully. I shift my weight, and this time I’m careful of foot placement. Then there’s a whisper just behind me.”
“Why don’t you run, little girl?”