Page 520 of Savage Bosses

“I think they’ll leave that for you and Nicole to work on.”

“Me? You think I’ll be included in the plans?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I wasn’t invited into the meeting,” I point out.

“That was a request of the DeLucas and the Blacks. They’d requested a private meeting with Mr. Cape and the attorney when they first decided to use the firm. Because the DeLucas will be involved, there will be a lot of speculation about how on the up and up this project is. My cousins also didn’t want our relationship disclosed initially although I didn’t mind.

“They didn’t want anyone to suspect we got the contract because of my connection. Mr. Cape wanted to weed out their true intentions before presenting them to the board and the rest of the staff. This isn’t something that you blow up to another level before you know what you’re dealing with. I’m okay with it because I know my family and the Blacks.”

“Mmm,” I say, sipping my drink.

“What’s the mmm for?”

“Nothing.”

Before he can ask again, a dancer approaches us and says, “Would you or your date like a private dance?”

My eyes widen, and Ambrose’s eyes narrow as he stares at me, pulling his fingers through his beard.

“I’m not his date.”

“Yes. My date would love a private dance, please.”

“I’m Amethyst, and I’ll be your private entertainer for the night. Please follow me,” she says.

What the fuck? I want to kill him, but the dancer is smiling and beckoning us to follow her. Ambrose stands, and his beautiful hazel eyes dare me to object.

“After you, Ms. St. Clair.”

I follow the woman to a room where she closes the door behind us. Grey walls and black carpeting blend into each other. A server and a bodyguard stand near a mini bar in one corner beside what appears to be a small DJ station, but I don’t see the DJ. Other than that, the only things in the room are a table, a pole, and two club chairs. I sit in one, and a smirking Ambrose takes a seat in the other.

Not long after we’re seated, the server takes our drink order, and surprisingly, I see the bodyguard move behind the DJ stand.

“I will kill you,” I hiss at Ambrose. “This is so unprofessional.”

“Consider this not business then.”

“How can I not?” I ask, glaring at him.

He glares back at me, and I see the unspoken challenge in his eyes. He wants me to pretend that tonight is before the heartache, anger, and pain. Only I can’t. All I can do is try to enjoy the remainder of the night.

The server returns with our drinks, and the music starts up. Beyonce’sCuff It Wetter Remixfloods the room as the dancer begins working her body. She’s more skilled than those on the floor and the stage.

“You mean a dancer like her?” I ask Ambrose.

“Mm-hmm,” is his reply, forcing me to turn my gaze to him.

Surprisingly, his gaze is on me and not the dancer.

Her movements are somewhat hip-hop, and I can tell that she’s a professional. Smoothly, she segues her dance movements into more skilled and sexual transitions.

Wiggling her hips from side to side, she tosses one hand in the air using the force of it to propel her into a spin that lands her on her knees. Down on all fours, she pops her ass and rocks back onto her hip, kicking one leg out as she whips her hair in circles, pumping her hand between her legs.

Her feline movements as she jumps from the floor into a standing position are beguiling, her rocking hips seductive as she floats toward us, hands caressing her breasts and ass and clapping her legs open and closed. When she’s standing in front of us, she smacks her ass again before leaning forward to touch her toe and then dragging her hand up her leg.

I’m in awe when she places a hand on the floor, uses it as leverage to pop into the air, and then lands flat on the floor, hunching it as her ass jiggles. She kicks one leg behind her and turns on one hand, with her private parts facing us. Somehow, she ends in a split in front of me with her hands on my thighs.

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