Chapter Five Evan Sterling’s POV (Present Time)

The lady wore her witch black hair in full fringe and, for some reason, a torturous scene from the past flashed in my head, making me tense up with the intense emotion that came with the memory.

For the life of me, I found myself unable to take my eyes off the girl and spaced out.

I swallowed hard when Jacob said, “They are really eye-catchers aren’t they?”

Then I heard myself say, “Can I get a private dance with the one in the middle facing us?” My voice sounded a bit different and I wondered if Jacob caught the intensity.

“You have to be a gentleman and ask her yourself. We asked them to stay for the party, so go and mingle, Evan,” he teased, and walked away to attend to some other guests.

The sound of my heart pounding was quite loud in my ears, even though I knew the probability of the woman I knew turning out to be a stripper or dancer was nil. But then I was never given the chance to even ponder on the probability of what she did to me and yet she had, blowing my heart sky high. I didn’t know when I got up. I was consumed by the sight of her.

“Hey,” I said, standing behind the two other girls, towering over the three with my eyes on the one facing me. I watched as her eyes widened in obvious shock under the mask. I let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I missed your dance, and would very much like a private one with you… if you don’t mind,” I said, looking at her intently, steeling myself from dropping my gaze to those lush lips I know so well. She shook her head without speaking and I added, “If it’s about payment, trust me, I can afford it.”

“I’m sorry, sir, she doesn’t give private dances,” the lady in front of her to my right said in a cultured tone that sounded British. I darted her a glance, flashed my most charming smile, and reverted my gaze at my tormentor.

“Thank you, but, I would love her to say that to me herself,” I said and saw her full chest heaving. ‘Come on, baby, speak to me,’ I thought in desperation. I knew it was her. It has to be. I would know those striking hazel eyes, that heart-shaped face, curves, and even her scent anywhere. My heart floundered and constricted.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and I let out a shaky breath. I had to press my teeth together to keep from shuddering noticeably.

When she turned away, I said, “Would a million dollars do? Or Two? Name it… Name your price. I can transfer the money into your account at this very minute. All I need is a few minutes alone with you,” I said, and heard her friends gasp. I knew if not for the loud music and voices, we would be drawing everyone's attention by now. But I didn’t give a damn!

I took out my wallet and started counting 100 dollar bills deftly, while my eyes stayed glued on her until she walked back, holding my gaze via her mask, and came to stand in front of me.

“Stop…” she said in that soft sultry voice that had tormented my dreams for years, and for about a minute I couldn’t speak. I could only look into her eyes as if I was under hypnosis. Then she snatched my wallet and the wads of cash from me, arranged the money back inside, and gave it back to me.

“This way… sir,” she said, leaving the large room to walk down a side hallway. I hurried after her, trying not to stare at her shapely back and the way she tended to move as if she was on a runway, in a graceful catlike prowl with her hips swaying.

I swallowed, following her inside a deserted private room with one of those pod chairs and a cream leather chaise sofa with a sidebar and an automatic music selecting device.

“What song would you like, sir?” she said, laying emphasis on the last word. If I hadn't been so nervous I would have found our situation quite amusing, but there was nothing amusing about this particular role-playing.

“You pick, you are the one to dance to it,” I jeered, and in my bid to act nonchalant, I went to pour myself some brandy, but then my hands shook and I poured some of the drink on the rug as a result.

A mellowed rhythm and blues filled the room, and I watched as she moved seductively to the beat. Echoes of her laughter filled my ears, blocking the sweet sound, all I could hear were voices—hers and mine-–hauntingly filling my head, tearing me inside out.

“I may be wrong, but seductresses are supposed to be way closer than you are right now,” I said, drinking more of the brandy. I was aware I was drunk now, losing all inhibition. But at this point, I could care less if I was acting like a fool. I was utterly convinced it was her.

I went to take a seat on the chaise sofa, watching her dance and trying very hard to ignore how my body was automatically responding to her. When she danced close to me, swaying her body delicately with her eyes holding mine. I lowered my gaze to her left kneecap and saw a thin pale scar on her skin, and remembered when I had startled her one time when she was emerging from the outdoor sauna naked and she had fallen and scraped her knee. I reached for her waist, pulling her closer to me so she could straddle me.

“Please do not touch—” she said softly in panic, with her full chest heaving, and I held still in order not to scare her and slowly brushed my thumb on the scar.

“Remember when you got this? I was terrified you were going to hit your head. I wanted to hold you in my arms and keep you safe for all time,” I said, and chuckled, sounding quite bitter, and my laughter hollow. She went very still. “So, are you going to take the damn mask off, baby? Or should we still continue this charade? Estera?” I said, slowly brushing my lips against hers. My body shook from restraint. She bolted out of my arms and ran out of the door.

It took me a second before I could collect myself and follow her. That slight touch of my lips against hers was quite disarming.

If I was looking for confirmation, I have it now. I ran outside the door and saw her disappearing down the passageway to the right, not the left, which led to the club room. I followed her, shaking my head to focus.

“Estera!” I called loudly, barreling after her to the end, then saw a fire escape door at the end of another hallway to my right and ran towards it. By the time I busted out through the door, she was already running down the long flight of stairs. “Estera, wait! Baby, I only want to talk!” I yelled down the endless flight of stairs, and my voice echoed in the confined space. She ignored me and kept her pace of descent.

‘So be it!’ I thought, running after her all the way down the building and busting out to a quiet alley at the back of the building. I was breathing hard and my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest, but she was no longer in sight. I raised my hands to my head and stood like that for about a minute just staring down the deserted road.

“Christ, s - she left…” I said under my breath in utter shock. My heart tightened so hard that I let out a pain-filled groan. And out of desperation, and the anguish ripping me apart, I screamed her name again, sounding quite lost. I couldn’t believe I saw her again, held her in my arms–albeit briefly– and she left. “Oh, God, my chest,” I said, lowering to the asphalt floor, breathing hard. The pain was excruciating.

“Evan—” I heard her voice again, and I shot up, turning around, then saw her come out of a shrouded corner a few feet away. She took hesitant steps towards me, then stopped. “Are you okay? What's wrong with your chest, baby?” she asked with great concern and my shoulders heaved as a result of my laboured breathing.