Baring It All

Sunny turned to face the same woman who’d delivered her seat of honor ticket. “I was looking for Lord Sin.”

“I’m sorry, Miss…”

“Clary,” Sunny said. “Sara Frances Clary. But everyone calls me Sunny.”

“…Clary, but he’s already left the building.”

“I don’t understand how I missed him, Miss…?”

“Lamour. Lottie Lamour,” the gray-haired woman answered pleasantly.

“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to—to make an appointment for tomorrow,” Sunny said dejectedly.

“I’m very sorry but that won’t be possible,” Lottie said and turned to walk away.

“Just a minute,” Sunny said, “you don’t understand. This is my first assignment. Lord Sin donated this building to the Arts Council and I’m covering the fund-raiser for WTRU.”

Lottie kept walking, drawing Sunny away from the dressing rooms. “And I’m certain you’ll cover it very well.”

“But surely Lord Sin would want to be given credit for this wonderful evening.”

Lottie stopped and turned back to face her. “Of course, my dear. And you’ll do that, won’t you?”

“I need to talk with him,” Sunny insisted. “Every reporter gives his subject a chance to respond.”

“But Lord Sin isn’t your subject,” the older woman said patiently. “Your story is the theater.”

“No, the theater is only window-dressing,” Sunny said. “My story is the man.”

Lottie’s lips curved into a smile but her eyes were cold. “Good night, Miss Clary.”

Sunny watched her walk away. There was no possibility she was going to reach Sin through Miss Lottie. She’d have to find another way to get to him. Sunny called after her, “Please thank Lord Sin for the seat of honor. Tell him I look forward to meeting him again.”

She’d check with Walt but she already knew that he wouldn’t have seen the mystery man leave the theater. There were probably secret entrances and exits that nobody but the dancer knew about. She swore again under her breath. Then, confirming the presence of her tape recorder in her purse, Sunny hurried across the stage and down the steps. With the recorder directly beside the candle she had to have captured the dancer’s voice.

Dancer. She’d called him a stripper before but he was truly more than that. Showman, entertainer, magician, hypnotist. She’d totally underestimated the extent of his sorcery and the difficulty she’d faced. Even knowing what was said about the man, she’d admit it, she’d let him get to her. Well, she wasn’t giving up her search, but tonight she resigned herself to going after her second choice for an interview, the bad-boy real estate tycoon, Ryan Malone.

RYAN MALONE HAD perfected the quick change from Sin’s bodysuit nudity to tycoon tux. He’d broken every rule he’d ever made by continuing the conversation with the redhead after the curtain fell. But tonight seemed to be a night for change. Instead of leaving the theater as he’d always done, he was standing in the wings watching the reporter thread her way through the tables toward the reception area. Still more unsettled than he’d admit, he decided that Lottie was right. He’d be better off delaying his meeting with the woman he’d imagined he was making love to during his act. He’d told himself that his performance was merely a flirtation meant to show her she wasn’t immune to Lord Sin’s talents. Instead, without even trying, she’d turned the tables on him. That had never happened before.

Even Ryan knew that Lord Sin’s last performance had been his best, for it had become a two-way seduction. That hadn’t been an act. It had turned into a sexual tease that had left him totally shaken. What in hell had happened? And what was he going to do about it? What he wanted to do was find her, take her to his bed and make love to her in ways he’d only suggested. That couldn’t happen. Lord Sin had closed up shop.

But—

Ryan Malone could.

Reeling from the aftermath of that thought, he moved quickly past the guests, toward the front entrance. He didn’t know how he’d manage it, but tonight he was Ryan Malone the official representative of the Arts Council; he could do whatever he wanted later. He thought he’d avoided her when he felt someone touch his shoulder.

“Mr. Malone? I’m Sunny Clary, WTRU News. Will you give me a moment, please?”

Ryan turned. She was even more beautiful up close. Ripe, tangerine lips parted as she drew in a quick breath of air. She held out the mike with one hand and used the other to shove a tendril of red hair behind her ear. For a moment he allowed himself simply to look at her. Knowing that the camera was running, Ryan forced himself to focus on the future of the theater. Any seduction of Sunny Clary would have to wait until he was in better control. He smiled and said, “Of course. What may I tell you?”

Tell me? Tell me to remember this is business. To forget I’ve just been practically seduced by Lord Sin and that Ryan Malone is practically undressing me with his eyes. “Mr. Malone,” Sunny began, trying to control the jitter in her voice, “you are not only a member of the Arts Council but you’re also responsible for the events of the evening, the fund-raiser here tonight. Can you tell us how successful you were?”

“I understand that we did very well, but I only put the program together, Miss Clary. You’ll have to give the credit for the idea to the man who donated the building for a Community Theater.”

Stage fright was new to Sunny. She’d done plenty of interviews, but she’d usually been wearing slacks and she hadn’t been twelve inches away from the ultimate Valentine heartthrob. “Of course.” She smiled. “You’re referring to the entertainer known as Lord Sin. A friend of yours, I believe?”

“We worked together on the program, yes,” Ryan admitted, neatly turning her question into a benign statement.

“Like many of the women tonight, I have a rose that…someone gave me. Perhaps you’d like to explain its significance.”

“Certainly. On Valentine’s Day every lover gives his sweetheart a rose. In this case, the roses started at one hundred dollars. Most of our guests paid with a cheque, a very large check. I hope your gentleman was generous.”

She turned over the check wrapped around the rose and gasped. Ten thousand dollars. “Oh, my goodness. Yes, the gentleman was more than generous. Will you tell our viewers what the money will be used for?”

“Renovating the building. But the work will take more than the money raised tonight. The entire community has to become involved. We hope members of your viewing audience will call the Arts Council and volunteer. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Ryan turned and started to walk away when he heard the reporter call out.

“Mr. Malone? Mr. Malone!” She hurried. “Will you please see that this check gets to the right person?”

He stopped and turned back, his mouth tight with the strain of walking away when what he wanted to do was throw the redhead over his shoulder and carry her out to his car and—Damn! He was losing it. Making Sunny Clary the recipient of his last performance had fired his hormones to killer proportions. He’d better get away before he revealed the state of his arousal. At that moment, his tormentor stumbled on a worn place in the carpet and reached out to steady herself. He had no choice but to catch her. Big mistake. He felt a jolt from his fingertips to the spot on his chest where her shoulder touched and straight down to his knees. He couldn’t tell whether the gasp he heard came from him or her. “You seem a bit rocky,” he finally said. “Did Lord Sin get to you, too?”

“Of course not,” she protested a little too quickly as she stepped away. “It’s the shoes and dress. I’m not used to wearing them.”

His gaze flicked from her face to her feet and back. “Oh? Is nudity the dress code for WTRU?”

She shook him off. “I meant that I’m not used to three-inch heels and long dresses. I’m more the blue jeans type.”

“Too bad. And I was thinking that WTRU had given new meaning to exposing the truth.” His control was coming back. “Are you happy working there?”

“I’m happy. Or I will be if you’ll let me interview you.”

“Me? Why would you want to interview me, Miss Clary?”

She could have lied, made up some story about his being one of Atlanta’s most eligible bachelors or she could have told him the real truth, that what she wanted was to fly off to some South Seas beach and spend hours making love in the moonlight. But, she remembered why she was here and went after a truth she could tell. “Actually you weren’t my first choice. I wanted Lord Sin.”

Ryan laughed. “I imagine most of the women here want Sin.”

“Not wanted him. I wanted to interview him,” Sunny insisted. “But he disappeared before I could get to him.”

“Why would you be so intent on finding the man?” Ryan asked. “You really don’t look like a woman who is attracted to male…dancers.”

“I’m not. I’m a country girl. This is my first assignment for WTRU. Frankly, I consider this a fluff piece. I want to do more. But I have to prove myself. Revealing Lord Sin’s true identity is my ticket out. If I find out who he is, I get transferred to investigative reporting.”

Her eyes were green, not the emerald color of her dress but something softer. Now they sparkled with the challenge. Lottie was right. His attraction to this woman could be trouble. WTRU had a reputation for hiring people who went for the jugular. As innocent as she appeared to be, Sunny Clary would be a serious threat. If there was any way to tie Ryan Malone to Lord Sin, this woman might be the one to pull it off.

“And you want to report all the tough stuff?”

“Yes,” she answered seriously. “I need an interview with Lord Sin. I’d really appreciate your assistance. Will you help me expose the man’s identity?”