He could’ve picked her out of a line-up, having known her for more than half his life, yet the sexy temptress up on that stage looked nothing like the girl he’d watched grow up.
She wore a tight black corset, a strap of black mesh that constituted a skirt, and a pair of stilettos that made her appear far taller than her five feet, four inches. Long brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, and her blue eyes looked huge with all that smoky eyeliner surrounding them.
Luke’s mouth went bone-dry. Oh, man, Josh was going to kill him. Josh was going to kill her. How had a ballerina ended up performing a mind-blowing jazz dance in a tiny town on the Mexican border?
And why did her breasts look so damn good? They couldn’t be that big. He remembered them being small, perky. Had to be the corset. And those stilettos did amazing things to her legs.
She whirled around, and the sight of her firm, round behind shaking on that stage made his groin tighten.
This couldn’t be Ellie Dawson. His P.I. friend had obviously made a mistake.
It had to be a mistake.
He watched the rest of the show, which lasted too long for his frantic brain and aroused body. It couldn’t be her. Ellie simply wasn’t this…sexy.
On the stage, the dancers took a few bows as the music came to an end. The second the overhead lights flickered on and the curtains closed, Luke shot to his feet.
He needed to look at that dark-haired vixen with his own two eyes and make sure she wasn’t the woman he was searching for.
Make sure she wasn’t his best friend’s kid sister.
“Great moves,” Vivian Kendrick said, approaching Ellie’s vanity area.
Ellie saw her boss’s reflection in the mirror and smiled. “Thanks, Viv. I improvised there in the end.”
“Well, whatever you did worked. I had about six customers come up to me and ask who Doll number three is.”
Ellie reached for a cotton ball and began removing the heavy makeup from her face. God, if people only knew how much time went into getting ready for a show. And how much time it took returning to normal afterwards.
“One is actually waiting outside the door. Said he wants to come in and get an autograph,” Vivian added.
She wrinkled her nose. An autograph? She’d been dancing here in Vivian’s club for nearly two months now, and this was the first time someone had wanted an autograph. “Who is it?” she asked.
Vivian shrugged. “Just a customer. But he’s cute. Real cute. Should I send him in?”
She tossed the cotton ball in the wastebasket and reached for another one. “Sure, no harm in that, I guess. Just stay close by.”
“I always do.”
Vivian left the dressing room, and Ellie continued to wipe the makeup from her face. God, she hated makeup. Hated these skimpy little outfits too. It was funny how, in ballet, she wore just as little clothing, yet something about her tutus and leotards seemed elegant. Sophisticated.
She glanced down at the corset and tiny skirt. Nope, not sophisticated. More like trashy.
The dressing room had emptied out, and as usual, she was the last one there. All the other dancers didn’t bother scrubbing off their layers of makeup. Most of the girls wore that stuff on a daily basis, not just for the shows. She liked having the room to herself, though. It reminded her of all the times she’d gotten ready alone for her ballet recitals.
As she got rid of the last of her eye shadow, she heard the sound of the door opening. Right, her fan. Stifling a sigh, she swiveled the chair and turned to face her admirer.
She gasped.
“Oh, damn it to hell. It is you.”
Luke Russell strode into the dressing room, slamming the door behind him.
All Ellie could do was gape. What was he doing here? And how had he found her? She hadn’t thought anyone would think to track her down in San Valdez. Heck, if it weren’t for Vivian, Ellie wouldn’t even know about the place herself. North of Tijuana and right on the Pacific coastline, the beach town was so remote it wasn’t even listed on most maps. And, she’d thought, the last place anyone would think to look for her.
But Luke had found her.
Because of Josh.
Of course. There was no other reason why Luke Russell would be here. Her older brother must have enlisted the help of his best friend to find her.
The thought sent a jolt of anger to her gut. Why couldn’t Josh respect her wishes? Before she’d left San Francisco, she’d made it clear she needed time and space. And what had he done? Not even two months had passed and he’d gone out and sent his henchman to track her down.
“What are you doing here?” she said, though she was fairly certain of the answer. She tried to keep her tone calm, even, but inside she was fuming over her brother’s insensitivity.
“I think the question is what are you doing here?” His voice was rough.
Oh, no, she’d completely forgotten about his voice. His entirely sexy voice. She’d also forgotten how good-looking he was.