Page 88 of Shark’s Edge

Yep, right there. In the juncture that would definitely get her some attention.

He snorted violently before breaking away—but not before landing one last jab to Hank’s chin.

I whipped a hand around his wrist and openly seethed. “Enough.”

The gorgeous woman shrugged. “Or they can decide that it’s not and I can bring out the tranquilizer gun.”

Hank stepped back while lifting both hands. “She’s really got one,” he muttered. “And it works.”

“And it’s really cool. I use it for my lion tamer routine.”

Just when I thought this scenario couldn’t get any crazier, Sebastian threw back his head on a good-natured laugh. “I remember that routine. It was damn good.”

“Still is,” quipped the redhead. “But not on the schedule tonight, big boy. You should come back over the weekend. I even use the gun.” She waggled her overly made-up brows at the men.

I scooted around, moving to scrutinize the glamorous stripper a little closer. Now that I had better proximity, I noticed the layers of makeup were really necessary. She was a wan thing, with eyes that were hollow and world-weary. Beneath the robe, her breasts were abnormally large compared to the rest of her frame. The fake nipples on top of the equally fabricated swells were colored with red lipliner so they appeared more aroused. But unlike what Sebastian had told me earlier, her hair was definitely all hers. No way could that lustrous red color come out of a bottle. At least she’d been blessed in that department.

“You’re Cinnamon Spice.” I was that sure of the fact. Sebastian’s line had helped me get there too. He recalled her dance routine from nearly a year ago. This had to be her.

The stripper swiveled my way. She checked me out from head to toe before responding, “Who wants to know?”

I deflected my nervousness by channeling my professional persona. If I pretended I was simply visiting a new vendor, I could get through this without envisioning the woman—and her naughty smirk and playtime boobs—in bed with the man next to me. We were here to help her, after all.

“We’re just hoping to talk you. We only need a few minutes.”

“Okay. Cool.”

She flowed out a hand, directing us toward her door—but before Sebastian could lead the way inside, Hank pulled at his shoulder.

“Yo, dude. Are we cool, man? I didn’t mean anything toward your woman.”

“Oh, I’m not his—”

Sebastian sliced me short with a fierce glance. “It’s fine,” he said to Hank. “We’re good.”

“But you can’t blame me for looking, right?” The guy flashed crooked teeth with a fresh chuckle. “I mean—”

“Hank.” Cinnamon glared like a mother who’d caught her kid licking a frozen pole. “Do you seriously have a death wish?”

After Hank turned and returned to the main showroom, the woman shook her head and shot a rueful gaze at both of us. “He’s got a heart of gold, fists of steel, and the brain of a Muppet.” After she entered her dressing room, she whirled around and snapped her fingers. The action made her robe sweep outward, affording an extended view of the curves that made her a star on stage but did nothing for the butterflies in my stomach. “But hey! He did just help me remember you!”

I plopped down onto a chair that wasn’t covered in costumes, accessories, or thigh-high boots. My timing was perfect, since I was struck hard by a jolt of astonishment.

“Wait.” I bit hard into my bottom lip. “You— You just remembered him?” I asked while pointing to Sebastian.

The puzzle pieces of this thing were getting drastically rearranged by the second, and I still didn’t know where they were all going to land—if at all. A quick glance at Sebastian wasn’t any reassurance that he knew either, especially when he added his own query to Cinnamon.

“But . . . you do know who I am?”

Cinnamon slinked into the fancy vanity chair in front of her wide makeup mirror. “Yeah. Sure.” She flipped a switch, illuminating the big round bulbs bordering the glass. “I think so . . . Sebastian, right?” Via the mirror—which seemed the best way to communicate now, since those bulbs could probably be seen from space—she inserted a saucy wink. “But as I’m starting to recall, you really like being called Sir.”

Sebastian shifted his weight and inhaled through his nose.

I shifted my own weight and asked, “As you’re starting to recall? You mean . . . just now?”

“That’s right.” She lifted a friendly smile my way via our reflections. “But it’s been quite a while since that fun-filled night.” And then she flicked her gaze Sebastian’s way. “Right, Bas?”

“Sure,” he spat. “Fun. Loads.”