Page 9 of Maverick

“Fine. She’s not that fucking hot anyway. Stuck up bitch.” He glared at me still holding his stack of twenties.

The biker leaned over and plucked a few notes out of the bundle.

“What the fuck? No dance, no cash.” The drunken asshole complained.

The big man smiled again. “Consider it a fee for having to put up with your shit. Leave it.”

He could see the biker wasn’t budging, so he stormed out of the club, grumbling angrily to himself.

“Thank you,” I whispered so softly, even I wasn’t sure if I’d actually said anything.

“Are you all right?” His deep voice was soft and gentle, full of genuine concern, which was something I hadn’t experienced much in the past few years.

More tears sprang to my eyes. “I am, thanks to you.” I couldn’t look at him because my body was frozen with fear even though I wasn’t scared of him. “You can have a private dance, but you’re not allowed to touch me.”

“I didn’t do that for a fucking dance.”

“You didn’t?”

He shook his head, smiling.

“So you don’t want a dance?”

He lifted his broad shoulders and dropped them with a grace a man his size didn’t usually possess. “I’d love one, but only if you wanted to give me one, and right now you don’t seem in the mood. He handed out the money he’d taken from the customer.”

I shook my head. “I can’t take it, it’s not mine.”

“Of course it is. He paid for your time, which he wasted. It’s yours.” He watched me until I finally took the money. “You hate this shit. Why do you do it?”

And now I was offended. “What do you care?” I snapped. “You’re here too.”

He smiled. “No judgment. It’s just, a lot of the girls here want to be here, some tolerate it and put on a show for the money, but even from across the room I saw the fear in your eyes. This isn’t your scene.”

“No,” I admitted. “It’s not.”

“Let me buy you a drink,” he offered. “No strings. Just to warm you up and dry those tears.”

I wasn’t sure what his angle was, but I nodded. “Yeah, okay, sure.”

He guided me to a booth and pointed to the lone chair while he took a seat in the booth. “Ruby, huh?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Okay, Ruby. What kind of job are you looking for?” His blue gaze studied me so carefully it felt as if he could see my innermost thoughts.

“I’m not sure. I, um, my situation is complicated.”

“Fugitive on the run complicated?”

“No,” I answered with a small laugh. “Nothing like that.” Not exactly, anyway. I was on the run, but not from the law.

“Okay. I have a proposition for you.”

I froze and pushed away from the table immediately. I should have known. Stupid Grace will never learn her lesson, always seeing the good in bad men.

“The job doesn’t require you to get naked or fuck, Ruby.” When my gaze met his, he smiled. “It’s a legit job offer, along with a place to stay.”

“A real job?” And a place to stay. It was so unbelievable that warning bells sounded in my mind.

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