Chapter One

Chapter One

I ’M going to sink inside you so deeply, you won’t ever forget I was

here.

Alyssa Devereaux shuddered at the memory of that growled promise,

as she‟d been surrounded by taut muscles and male need.

Luc Traverson. Even his name caused heat to stab her belly with want.

He‟d kept every bit of that promise; she‟d never forgotten him for a

moment.

The night he‟d spent in her bed had been amazing, magical.

Considering she‟d long ago given up on fairy tales, that was saying

something. Being enveloped in Luc‟s steely strength had been paradise.

Under his stare that night she hadn‟t just felt like a desirable woman, but

like the only woman. The intimacy . . . oh, God. Sizzling. Way beyond

making her toes curl, he‟d given her a whole new definition of pleasure. His

endless dark eyes had burned as he‟d slammed her with powerful strokes,

his long, midnight hair draped around their faces, cutting off all reality but

his whispered demands and rough breathing as he rode her from one

orgasm to the next.

He‟d brought her body to a fever pitch—to places she‟d never believed

a man could take her. He had done it again and again. For six hours. Never

tiring, never satisfied. Greedy, rapacious, and amazing.

She‟d had enough sex in her life to know they‟d shared something

more.

The next morning . . . gone. No note, no explanation. A few days later,

he‟d sent flowers with an apology for any discomfort or pain he might have

caused. She‟d been pissed off, a bit hurt . . . but not terribly surprised.

Still, she wasn‟t willing to give up. For the chance to see Luc again,

Alyssa had broken her own rule and called him. Twice. He‟d never returned

her calls personally. Instead, his assistant had called merely to say that he

would keep his terms of their arrangement. Nothing more.

She‟d been nothing to him. Yes, she‟d known before their night

together that he didn‟t respect her. They‟d first met when she‟d stripped at

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his buddy‟s bachelor party a few years back. Somehow, she‟d hoped

opening herself completely to Luc would change his mind.

Stupid.

Still, he was everything she‟d ever wanted in a man: attractive,

successful, capable of deep caring, sensitive, sexy . . . She wasn‟t giving

him up without a fight.

stare taking a meandering path down her body as she emerged from the

back of the club and stopped before the stage. “You‟re looking very fine.”

patrons, not me.”

not into ogling drunken frat boys or horny married men. What color are your

garters under that little black skirt?”

Her bouncer was former law enforcement of some variety—he‟d never

said which kind—college educated with a degree in engineering. Tyler had

a lot going for him. Why he‟d taken a job here as a bouncer was anyone‟s

guess. But in the few months he‟d been with her, he‟d proven himself

indispensable. There were days her business needed him.

It was too bad, really, that her heart didn‟t need Tyler as well.

From beneath her lashes, she sent him a chiding stare. “I‟ll never tell.”

Alyssa glanced down at his crotch. “Looks like you‟ve got your own.”

Tyler winked and sent her a flirty grin. “All for you.”

He was good-looking, built like something on the front of a

bodybuilding magazine, smart, funny, dependable. But after long days of

running Sexy Sirens—Lafayette, Louisiana‟s, most notorious strip club—

and trying to start up a new restaurant, by the time she fell into her solitary

bed at night, it wasn‟t thoughts of Tyler that made her ache. That honor

was reserved solely for Luc Traverson.

And after a bit more than three months apart, he would be here today.

Feel me. Yessss. You’re so tight, so good. That’s it, sugar. Come for

me. Again.

Luc‟s voice, sin wrapped in velvet, dipped in honey, wouldn‟t leave her

head. Even the memory made heat rise inside her. Thoughts of that night

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always had the power to daze and stun her. She wanted it again. Him

again.

Tyler. Oops. “Sorry. The restaurant is weighing so heavily on my mind

these days.”

He stared at her from green eyes that saw too much. “So clean plates

and menus give you that flushed, wanna-get-fucked look?”

Tyler crossed his arms over his wide chest. His biceps bulged under

his body-hugging black T-shirt. He really was gorgeous. And he wanted

her; he‟d made no secret about that. She could do worse.

want to bust him up or shake his hand.”

her hookup with Luc, she hadn‟t had sex in years.

At this point in the conversation, Tyler usually teased that he‟d be

more than happy to be that someone. This afternoon, he seemed to sense

something was different.

everyone fairly and work damn hard. You‟re sweeter than you give yourself

credit for. You haven‟t resorted to murder when that asshole Councilman

Primpton comes around, making trouble.” He sent her a considering stare.

If she wasn‟t careful, his caring would make her cry. A pity party would

be marvelously easy to indulge in—and an utter waste of time.

Alyssa anchored her hands on her hips. “Not in the cards.”

Restraint left Tyler. He reached out to her, caressing his large hand

down her arm in a soothing gesture. “Your mama has only been gone two

weeks.”

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She tensed. “I hadn‟t seen her in fourteen years.”

She‟d done so with mixed feelings. Anger, grief, sadness, rage, a need

to rail at the woman who had done nothing to help or understand her. Pity

that she‟d been so self-absorbed.

And beside her grave had stood the blackhearted reason for the rift

between them: Joshua. Even after a dozen years, beyond a hundred feet,

and through a pair of two-hundred-dollar sunglasses, there was no

mistaking the boyish-faced bastard. At least he hadn‟t seen her. If he had,

Lord knew what he would have done.

She shook off the thought.

into this opening to put it off. I need to get it off the ground for cash-flow

purposes. Besides, what good would wallowing about my mom do?”

He cupped her shoulders in a tender gesture. “You left here at three

this morning, and Sadie told me you were back by eight. Baby, you‟ve got

to sleep and give yourself time to grieve.”

She‟d rather not.

Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “You‟re going to

make some woman a great husband someday.”

Alyssa snorted. “Do I look like the white-picket-fence type? Get your

ass back to work.”

again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, some guy is here to see you. Some chef.”

Is he the dude doing the guest chef gig this week?”

Tyler‟s question registered, but she didn‟t answer. Instead, she

glanced around Tyler, to the club‟s front door.

Boom! There he stood, all six feet plus of him, his elegant, rangy body

tense. The sight of him was like a visceral blow. She swallowed . . . and let

her hungry gaze eat him up. Inky hair hanging around his wide shoulders,

jeans hugging him in all the right places. Those dark, burning eyes. A hot

flush swept up her body. Her heart didn‟t just start racing faster; it careened

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out of control. Far more than her palms went damp. She swayed in dizzy

excitement.

Tyler caught her; his beefy hands slid around her waist to steady her.

Then he glanced back to Luc. “You‟ve got to be kidding me. Him?”

Oh, yeah. Definitely him.

Luc Traverson was here. Finally. She did her best to hide a sly smile.

There was no way he was going to ignore her anymore; she‟d make certain

of that.

UNTIL Alyssa Devereaux, had he ever gotten stone hard just by

looking at a woman from across a room? Luc didn‟t like the answer.

He didn‟t have to wonder what was under that little skirt; he knew.

Sleek thighs surrounded by garters in some color designed to drive a man

wild. A lacy thong that would reveal far more of her assets than it

concealed. And under that . . . The feel and taste of her slick, swollen folds

dive-bombed his memory and revved him up, as if he‟d injected rocket fuel

in his bloodstream.

And now he had to work beside her for a week. Hell. How was he

going to prevent a recurrence of the event he wanted to forget—yet

couldn‟t?

You’re a professional. Cook and keep your hands to yourself. Besides,

it wasn‟t as if he had nothing else to think about. Negotiations for his cable

TV show were nearly at an end. He had a bit of editing to do on his latest

cookbook. There wouldn‟t be that much downtime this week, but what little

there‟d be, he would fill.

Clearly, Alyssa had a way to fill her time as well. The huge slab of man

at her side whose cheek she‟d kissed a moment ago wore a Sexy Sirens Tshirt stretched across his enormous chest. A bartender? A bouncer?

Whoever he was, the guy slanted a possessive glance at Alyssa that Luc

couldn‟t miss, then glared at him.

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Tamping down his irrational anger, Luc reminded himself that if Alyssa

wanted to fuck her hired help, that was her business.

The violent urge to dismember her employee would pass.

Alyssa took a step toward Luc, then another.

voice. “Your turn!”

She stopped. Closed her eyes. Sighed. Bracing herself ?

Then, as if the hesitation had never been, she flashed him a cool blue

gaze, pointed at a chair in front of the stage, then turned away and strode

backstage. Luc couldn‟t help himself. He watched her walk away, the sway

of those curvy hips a siren call. Damn.

If they had been alone, there was no way Luc could have prevented

himself from touching her. Period.

Unless he wanted another brush with his uncontrollable wild side, he

needed to forget his reckless promise to her and get out of this job. Now.

Reluctantly, Luc sauntered to the front of the stage and sat in the chair

Alyssa had indicated. As soon as she finished whatever the hell she was

doing and talked to him, he‟d tell her all bets were off. Hell, he‟d pay her for

her inconvenience.

Because if he stayed, his dick would get him into trouble. He‟d have

her naked and be between her legs in two minutes. Or less. And that would

be bad. He was looking for Mrs. Right, someone uncomplicated who

wanted children as much as he did and would help him keep his beast at

bay. Alyssa Devereaux, stripper divine, was definitely not that woman.

Suddenly, music pounded through the speakers, blaring with a

naughty beat, a wicked slide of horn. Every note suggested sex—the hot,

sweaty, no-boundaries variety.

The type he‟d had with her and wanted again.

Pulling his loose shirt over his lap to cover his erection, Luc watched

as Alyssa strutted onto the stage. She‟d piled her straight platinum hair into

some wild arrangement on top of her head and donned a sequined bolero

jacket in red. He was dying to see what she wore underneath. The way she

moved was an invitation . . . and a promise.

She planted her stiletto-clad feet in front of him with a decisive step,

then swung her hips, making a sensual circle. She flattened her palm

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across the bare skin of her tanned abdomen—and began lowering it. She

reached down . . . so damn slowly. Luc‟s breath caught in his chest until,

finally, she touched herself. Oh, hell.

Her fingers glided between her legs, and she tossed her head back as

if she were in utter ecstasy.

Luc swallowed. And started to sweat.

With a jerk of her head, Alyssa snapped her gaze back to him, her

eyes like focused blue lasers jolting him to his toes.

Damn it, his nine weeks of dating church secretaries, interior

decorators, and elementary school teachers showed. Not one of them had

incited an erection. During that time, he‟d awakened in the middle of the

night more than once, sweating, his dick in his hand and Alyssa‟s name on

his lips. Now, after less than five minutes in her presence, he felt ready to

explode.

He had to think about the right F words—future and family.

Unfortunately, with Alyssa near, the urge to fuck her again kept killing his

good intentions.

In the next moment, she released the soft strands of her hair, which

hugged her shoulders, clung to her breasts, flirted with her waist. Then she

peeled off the little jacket and left it carelessly on the floor, exposing a tiny

half top Luc could swear showed the shadows of her areolas. She stepped

over the jacket and strutted toward the pole in the center of the stage.

When she gripped it with both hands and undulated against it, pressing it to

the juncture of her thighs, Luc damn near choked.

And still she continued to stare as if she danced just for him.

The music swelled, wailing with sensuality and suggestion. Alyssa

upped her game, sticking a finger into the wet cavern of her mouth and

sucking. More blood rushed to Luc‟s cock at the memory of her mouth

around him, her tongue slick across the head, inciting a sizzle that burned

his whole body. Even months later, he could feel the lash of her tongue, the

hot silk of her mouth. He shuddered.

With a kittenish smile, Alyssa popped her finger from her mouth and

drew the damp fingertip down her cleavage. Then her palm took over,

smoothing her right breast with an invitation to pure sin on her gorgeous

face.

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Dear God, no wonder she‟d built herself a little empire here in

Lafayette. The woman was a walking wet dream and did her job well. No

red-blooded, heterosexual male could withstand such intense teasing and

stay sane.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luc saw Alyssa‟s employee, the one

she‟d touched earlier, sidle closer to the stage. With a quick turn of his

head, Luc quickly saw that the mountain in the tight black T-shirt was

tense, panting, and sporting a bulge that said he wanted to get busy.

Luc wished he could say that didn‟t piss him off. But he‟d be lying.

Then, as Luc‟s stare returned to the stage, he damn near forgot his

own name.

Alyssa turned her back on him and bent at the waist, staring at him

over one mostly bare shoulder with a fuck-me look that stunned him. Luc

gripped the arms of his chair, willing himself to stay in it, not charge up on

the stage, lay her flat, and get inside her again this instant.

The spaghetti strap of her little top was falling down her arm. And that

indecent skirt . . . With her bent over, the hint of the bare ass cheeks

flashed from beneath the black silk. Her garters were a come-hither red.

Her thong—he could see only a scrap of it—matched.

Soft fingers teased their way up her shin, her thigh, and disappeared

under that little skirt. Her eyes half closed, her sultry mouth parted on a

silent moan of seeming self-pleasure. His entire body tensed.

He had to get the hell out of there.

Her hands swept up her undulating hips, gathering the skirt with them.

She tugged at the little black garment, and it fluttered to the floor. The

tanned halves of her backside, bisected by a bit of red lace, crashed fresh

lust into his chest, making it damn hard to breathe.

Alyssa had a gorgeous ass. But he‟d known that. Luc squeezed his

eyes shut so the visual temptation of her bare flesh didn‟t taunt him.

Memories of tunneling into her ass pounded him instead. Her perfect

willingness to take him any way he‟d wanted. The tightness of her damp,

musky body clasping him. The sweat dripping off of them as he‟d thrust

deep. Her moans.

Christ, the burning lust had to stop—at least long enough to tell her

that he wouldn‟t be staying.

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Praying the torture would end soon, Luc opened his eyes. And sucked

in a breath.

Alyssa flashed him a naughty smile of invitation as she ripped her

small top right down the front to reveal a red demi bra that barely covered

her nipples. Hard nipples. Pink, melt-in-his-mouth nipples he remembered

all too well.

Luc squirmed in his chair—and nearly went off like a teenage boy.

Beyond aroused, his cock was so sensitive, the feel of denim sliding

against the head nearly had him coming.

He had to leave. Forget the polite conversation; he‟d send her an email with an explanation. Because if he stayed, he would shove his longterm goals aside and fuck her senseless.

As he stood, Luc mentally reviewed a list of chefs—female ones—he

could pay to assist Alyssa this week. A short list, but a few durable names.

He‟d send idiotproof recipes . . .

The red bra dropped to the ground at Alyssa‟s feet.

Her large breasts were as golden as the rest of her body and swayed

gracefully with her every undulation, every step. Those nipples he

remembered so damn well beckoned, Taste me.

Turn away! he demanded of himself.

His legs didn‟t move.

Alyssa danced her way down the stairs, holding her breasts up in

offering. She pranced past her aroused employee and shot the man a

mirthful smile as she caressed the side of his face. Luc tensed when the

beefy guy tried to snatch her up in his arms. But Alyssa was too fast and

spun out of his grip, toward Luc.

The damp spot at the front of her thong kicked him in the gut. He

clenched his fists as she danced closer, closer . . .

She dropped to her knees before him and looked up. Their gazes

locked. She panted. Hard. Despite his jeans, her hot breaths caressed his

cock. Release broiled in his balls, and he hadn‟t touched her once.

There was no way he could stop himself from reaching out to tangle

his fingers into her hair and bringing her mouth closer. Except when he did,

he grabbed air. Alyssa had already strutted away, that golden body of hers

burned into his brain.

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The music boomed one final time as she artfully fell to the stage, her

body sprawled with legs parted, knees bent, hands half covering her

breasts, her back arched . . . as if she were ready for him to cover her, take

her.

Luc took a step toward her. Then he forced himself to stop and

breathe deep.

Self-destruction wasn‟t his bag, and he wasn‟t going to get caught up

in the trap now.

Beside him, the beefy bouncer clapped wildly and whistled like a man

possessed. “That was hot, boss lady. Damn!”

Alyssa stood and smiled, her arms falling to her sides, as if totally

unaware or unconcerned that she bared her breasts to her employee and

her guest chef.

She did this for a living, he reminded himself. She displayed her body

for strangers—and did who knew what else with them. Why should it matter

to her who saw her tits?

volunteer.” Her bouncer winked.

She reached for the bolero jacket, thrust her arms into the capped

sleeves, then covered her breasts with the lapels. Sort of. The garment had

no front clasp, so it hung open, flashing cleavage and the generous swells

of her breasts as she made her way down the stairs.

She expected him to touch her in a businesslike fashion? Luc steeled

himself against the electric current that buzzed through him anytime he

touched this woman. But no amount of bracing diluted the jolt that shocked

him when he took her hand.

.” Luc glanced over at the bouncer‟s curious, intrusive stare. “Private?”

the doors.” Then she turned her stare back to Luc. “Follow me.”

As if he could have resisted when she turned that gorgeous ass in his

direction and pranced away . . . Impossible.

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He followed her backstage, then down a hall that had been painted

black. Red lights shined overhead, giving the back a Goth feel that

contrasted with the public area‟s warmth. Then they ducked into a room at

the end. White. Soothing with black-and-white photos on the wall. Splashes

of red color in silk flowers and a desk chair.

Alyssa held the door wide, then closed it behind him once he‟d

entered. He realized that none of the club‟s other sounds could be heard.

He cocked his head, listening to the crisp silence.

in a relaxed pose that somehow managed to scream sex. “Hard as hell to

be bookkeeping at two in the morning with the Pussycat Dolls blasting out

your ears.”

That made sense, but had nothing to do with this meeting. “Listen, I—”

number? I haven‟t danced around a pole in two years. I‟m out of practice.”

She hadn‟t danced around a pole in two years? Wow . . . He didn‟t

frequent gentlemen‟s clubs; he found nothing gentlemanly about them, so

he had nothing to compare her to. But if she thought her performance was

out of practice, Luc decided he‟d likely have a heart attack if ever he saw

Alyssa in what she considered to be prime form. “Why ask me?”

She frowned. “Other than Tyler, who likes anything I say or do, you

were the only man watching. I need a male opinion on this. Did it work for

you?”

And then some. “Um . . . It was good.”

Sirens‟ fifth anniversary, and I promised to perform. I don‟t really do it

anymore. But I‟ll try harder when I take the stage later. Thanks for the

opinion.”

If she tried any harder, she‟d incite instant orgasm in half the audience

in the first thirty seconds.

room. Hell, his whole body.

business was so tough. You‟d know all about it, of course. But I‟m still

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learning. Anyway, I‟m glad you‟re here. I‟ve been looking forward to

watching you in action.” Her smile was a tease in itself. “In the kitchen, of

course.”

His body temperature went up again. If he didn‟t leave soon, she

would see action in the kitchen and anywhere else she would consent to let

him fuck her. But how could he say this without upsetting her? He definitely

owed her.

Luc tried not to wince. “Yes. Deke and Kimber were married a couple

of months ago.”

Alyssa paused, cocked her head, assessed him with those cool blue

eyes. “You okay with that? I know you had a relationship with her, too.”

Yes, one that had ended with the near death of his greatest dream.

He‟d engaged in a wild ménage with Kimber and his cousin, knowing that

she loved Deke. Still, Luc had hoped to marry her, that Deke would get her

pregnant, and they would all live as a happy family. All too soon, they‟d

paired off and left him alone. Possibly his last chance to raise a child with

even a drop of his blood walked out the door with them.

He hesitated, then hedged. “She‟s still special to me.”

It wasn‟t a lie, but not the complete truth, either. Kimber and Deke

didn‟t need anyone but each other, and Luc had only been in their way.

He‟d accepted that because, while he‟d adored Kimber, he hadn‟t loved

her. He had, however, wanted the one thing they could have given him,

wanted it so bad sometimes that yearning clawed a deep crater of longing

out of his chest.

He wanted a child. And he couldn‟t father one.

No. What he had to do was get out of here before he let his dick lead

him to stupid acts, like forgetting the fact that he needed to find an

acceptable woman who wanted a child as badly as he did. Alyssa . . . She

was sexy, determined, all woman, giving and mind-blowing in the dark. But

she wasn‟t anyone‟s ideal mother material. If he ended up going the

adoption route, case agents would take one look at her and run screaming.

Even if she wanted children now—and why would she?—he didn‟t think

she‟d agree to dash to the nearest sperm bank or sit through rounds of in

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vitro fertilization. She‟d want a man who could father his own children the

normal way.

At thirty-five, Luc should be way beyond this blinding sort of

adolescent urge for sex, the kind that obliterated all logical thought. Alyssa

wasn‟t going to help him obtain what he most wanted in life. Somehow, he

had to get the news flash to his dick.

Hell, he‟d never before wished he were impotent, rather than sterile.

Here was a fun first.

restaurant and kitchen tomorrow morning. It‟s just a few blocks from here. I

ordered all the food your assistant indicated and—”

pissed off, even if her starchy expression didn‟t.

Luc wanted to lie, but he was already bailing on her. Lying would add

insult to injury, and she deserved the truth. “It‟s what‟s between us.”

have to do with the other?”

Luc shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Shit, this wasn‟t going

well. “Look, I‟m sorry for what I did to you—”

got to hear the reason for this.”

How the hell could she not get it?

Raking a stiff hand through his shoulder-length hair, he growled,

gentle or considerate. And I apologize. I‟m sure I didn‟t ask your permission

before I . . .” God, he couldn‟t even talk about having anal sex with her

without getting hard as concrete again. “It just wouldn‟t be a good idea if I

stayed.”

Alyssa pulled the lapels of her little jacket together in a useless attempt

to cover her breasts. All she did was provide better shots of cleavage. And

give him a harder cock.

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He swallowed. “Don‟t you understand? You probably begged me to

stop. And I didn‟t. I don‟t remember hearing you. If I stay this week, I can‟t

guarantee that I won‟t lose my head again. I don‟t want to hurt you.”

down his spine.

Three dates didn‟t constitute a relationship. Looking at Alyssa‟s lush

features and centerfold body, Luc could not summon up a vision of Emily‟s

face to save his life. But he was going to marry her. Or someone like her.

Alyssa simply wasn‟t the kind of woman he could see willingly playing

mommy when he finally found a way to become a dad.

No, and he‟d never go down that path again, but admitting that to

Alyssa would only make her more determined. “Does it matter?”

She shook her head. “Whoever she is, I hope she can understand that

you‟re here to do a job. I can put the past behind me and focus on work if

you can.”

Luc‟s hungry gaze skimmed down her body. “You haven‟t touched me,

and I‟m already unfocused.”

He stormed across the room, grabbed her hand, and fitted it over his

aching cock. Instantly, it was better—and worse. God, he wanted her to

move on him, strip him bare, put his cock inside her mouth, her body.

Before he got carried away, he pulled her hand away. “You‟re a very

sexy woman, and I am not myself around you. I can‟t stay.”

Alyssa drew in a deep breath, and her chest expanded. Hell, he didn‟t

need to see that. But he couldn‟t walk away as she slipped off the edge of

her desk and sidled closer. “First, for your concern to be valid, I‟d have to

say yes to sex with you. Today, I haven‟t. Don‟t assume I would tomorrow,

either. Second, you came to me three months ago, remember? In

exchange for hooking up with you and your cousin, you‟d cook for me

during opening week. Even though Deke left before things got hot, I lived

up to my end of the bargain.”

about you and sex in the same sentence.”

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In an attempt to show his cousin Deke that his now-wife was the

perfect woman for them, Luc had arranged a threesome with himself, his

cousin, and Alyssa. It had backfired on Luc. Deke left before the party

started, which Luc had expected. What he hadn‟t anticipated was needing

every sort of sex he could think of with the strip club owner—repeatedly.

qualified.”

work and my entire savings riding on this place. I‟d rather not have this

restaurant fail and force me to dance around a pole again for a living. You

gave me your word, and I trusted you. Are you really going to bail on me?”

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