Chapter Two

Chapter Two

MUSIC pounded through Luc‟s ears. As the closing notes thumped

and Alyssa struck a suggestive pose around the stripper pole wearing a

thong—and nothing else—Luc‟s steel-hard cock stiffened again, now

bordering on pain.

The moment the music died, the all-male crowd, squeezed into the

upscale club, erupted into thunderous applause. Luc gritted his teeth. Every

man in the room had a hard-on for the woman he was dying to get into bed

again. And again. The woman he shouldn‟t touch.

After a full two minutes of standing O, the patrons finally sat again.

Wearing a mischievous smile, Alyssa grabbed the microphone,

halfheartedly slapping that little red sequined jacket on so that it covered

her nipples—barely.

enthusiasm for the past five years has made Sexy Sirens a truly special

place. I‟m thrilled you came to spend your evening with me.”

She batted her black lashes over her baby blues, working the crowd.

Luc wanted to vomit. No, that wasn‟t true. He wanted to pick her up, throw

her over his shoulder, and forbid her to ever return here or take her clothes

off in public again.

He sighed. The caveman thing was Deke‟s style. And Alyssa wasn‟t

his. Never would be.

Why the hell had he agreed to stay here and cook for the week? Oh,

yeah. Guilt. She had agreed to help him three months ago. It wasn‟t her

fault he hadn‟t—and still couldn‟t—keep his dick under control. Also not her

fault that Deke had walked away and left her alone with Luc‟s regrettable

dark side. Given how much of her life and savings she had tied up in her

new restaurant, he‟d be seven kinds of scum to skip out on her now. Her

amazing breasts, her sharp, sugar-dipped questions, and his combustive

memories had all worked against him. He hadn‟t stood a chance in hell of

leaving.

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After making a few more announcements, she sashayed her way off

the stage and into a waiting throng of male admirers. Tyler, her bouncer,

pulled out a chair for her and hovered protectively. With arms crossed and

a menacing expression, he looked every inch a badass. Still, that didn‟t

deter her ardent admirers. They fawned close. Some slipped bills right into

her thong. She slapped hands away with a naughty smile . . . but that really

didn‟t stop them.

A guy in an LSU shirt shoved his way through the crowd to Alyssa‟s

side and planted a kiss right on her mouth. She didn‟t pull away, just placed

gentle hands on his shoulders. A few seconds later, Tyler yanked the guy

off her, shoved him toward the door with a mean motherfucker look, then

hovered even closer to Alyssa. His stance screamed, Mine!

Refusing to watch a second longer, Luc cursed and swallowed a bitter

truth. He‟d been suckered. The night he‟d spent with Alyssa, she‟d sworn

she hadn‟t let a man in her bed or her pussy for nearly two years. At the

time, he‟d believed her. She had been incredibly tight.

Faced with this foaming-at-the-mouth crowd, he didn‟t see how it was

possible that her bed had been empty for even two days.

It didn‟t matter if she slept with her bouncer, all of her customers, and

most of Louisiana‟s male population. He had made an agreement with her,

and he would honor it. Furthermore, he‟d keep his hands off of her for the

week, no matter how alluring she was. He had a future—God willing, a wife

and a child someday soon—to think about.

THREE in the morning. With the doors to the club shut and the

dancers and waitstaff cleared out, she and Luc were alone. Finally.

She took a moment to savor the fact that, if all went well, she‟d

performed her last pole dance. Never again would she fill her belly by

exposing her body. She‟d done it to survive for the past fourteen years. The

restaurant represented her future, her path to a better life. She‟d work hard

for a successful opening just to avoid showing complete strangers her tits

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again. Luc was a big part of her recipe for success. Thank God she‟d

convinced him to stay.

For her restaurant‟s sake—and her own.

Beside her, he stood tall, and so tense she could have bounced a

quarter off him. Alyssa smiled. The scrumptious, skittish chef had no idea

what was about to hit him.

He nodded. “Seeing your setup will allow me to plan stations, feel the

flow of the food. Tomorrow I need to meet your staff. I‟ve spoken on the

phone with your sous and pastry chefs, as well as your assistant manager.

They‟ve all completed the training I sent along. We have the week‟s menu

set. You said someone purchased the quantities of supplies I requested?”

Alyssa nodded and cast him a saucy glance. “You have expensive

taste, Mr. Traverson.”

Of course he‟d make that promise. He wanted to be sure he didn‟t owe

her a damn thing when he walked out that door. And she was dead

determined otherwise. At the end of a week, Alyssa swore she‟d own him,

body, heart, and soul.

In separate cars, they drove the few blocks to her new endeavor. She

refused to look at the fact that he‟d declined to ride with her as a setback.

Once they arrived, Alyssa took the keys from her purse and unlocked

the door. Just inside, she walked around the corner and flipped on the

lowlights overhead. There was a brighter set . . . but why kill the mood?

Alyssa looked out over her creation. Simple elegance. A wall of floorto-ceiling windows. Dark wood accented by walls of taupe and earthy gold,

splashed with accents of burgundy and chocolate. The open space held an

expectant air, as if waiting for guests. Chairs and crisply draped tables

abounded, a few outfitted with china, linen napkins, and crystal so she

could see the effect. The understated lettering on the foyer wall read

BONHEUR, and the sight filled her with anxious pride every time she came

here.

Out of the corner of her eye, she cast a glance Luc‟s way. Arms

crossed over his chest, he scanned the restaurant, his gaze assessing. Her

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heart beat faster as she waited for his response. It made no sense, wanting

his approval so badly . . . but that didn‟t stop her anxiety.

owning makes me happy, too.

He glanced out across the tables again. “If you‟re hoping to be a hot

spot for romantic dining, you have too many tables for parties of four to

eight, particularly in your cozy corners. The partition between the bar and

the dining room . . .” He pointed halfway across the room to the half wall

that separated the eating patrons from the merely drinking ones. “It‟s too

short and too close to the bar. It will be hard to get any ambiance if people

laughing, smoking, and drinking a lot are visible from the dining room.

Raise that to the ceiling. Do you have vents to push the smoke back to the

bar?”

She‟d debated that, hating to close off the room. But he was right.

He hesitated. “Even in the bar? That will cost you money.”

are ordering drinks with their food or while waiting for their table, not

because they‟re skipping dinner and loitering over a scotch, hoping to find a

date for the night. I‟ve got one bar; I don‟t need another.”

Luc nodded, but didn‟t react otherwise. She made a mental note to

drag more of the smaller tables out of storage and call her contractor to fix

the wall in the morning.

Biting her lip, she led the way around a corner, flipping on more lights.

Teasing and seduction, she understood. The restaurant business . . . That

was his area of expertise, and now he was all button-down assurance.

Alyssa was grateful for it. She‟d tried hard to make Bonheur‟s kitchen

optimal, a place a chef of Luc‟s caliber would be proud to cook in.

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Winding down the hall, she was conscious of Luc‟s eyes on her. His

gaze brushed her shoulders, hugged the curve of her waist, lingered on her

ass. She could feel the burn.

When they reached the large, mostly stainless steel room, she flipped

on the lights. “I‟ve heard people don‟t like seeing the kitchen when they

eat.”

Again, Luc crossed his arms over his chest, looking from one end of

the room to the other, nodding slowly. “Very nice. Butcher-block prep area

is well placed and large. Twelve-burner stove. Gas?”

His approval showed on his face, warming her. “A fair number of

industrial ovens. Four sinks. Good placement of utensils along the walls.

Warmers?”

Alyssa pointed to shelved space under the counters and another at the

pass, where plates would be assembled.

another corner and opened the door. “Great freezer. Ample storage.”

sort of flooring is this?” He stomped a boot on the surface.

cushion for everyone‟s feet.”

He finally turned to stare at her, the fact that he was impressed

warming his features. “You planned all this by yourself ?”

customers in the restaurant business, and I asked their advice. The rest . . .

I did my homework. I wanted everything to be right.”

Something on his face changed, closed. His body tensed as his dark

gaze skittered away. “You succeeded.”

Damn! What had caused the warmth on his face to chill? The mention

of Sexy Sirens? Deke had told her once that she wasn‟t Luc‟s type because

he was looking for a lady. Did his avoidance mean he saw her as one small

step up from a whore?

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She raised her chin. Alyssa knew men. Even if Luc was loath to admit

that she was his type, she knew she made his dick twitch. It was a start.

Now he was all business again. “What time can you have the staff

here tomorrow?”

tonight?” She gripped the keys in her hand, wondering how to recover the

mood they‟d shared just minutes ago.

Patience, she warned herself. Stick to the plan. The night was still young.

LUC followed Alyssa to the restaurant‟s empty parking lot. The ample

lighting would make patrons feel secure. However, the illumination pissed

him off because he could see every sway of her enticing hips as she

sashayed to her car. It made him hard. Again.

He‟d driven his SUV from the strip club, mostly so he didn‟t have to

shut himself in a confined space with her, even for three blocks. He didn‟t

think he could be responsible for his actions for even that long. In

Bonheur‟s kitchen, the thought of laying her across one of those gleaming

stainless steel counters and fucking her senseless gripped him by the

throat. He should thank her for bringing up Sexy Sirens and the favors

she‟d likely had to give her loyal customers to obtain their advice. The

thought made him grit his teeth and his dinner churn. His temper soar.

Alyssa was a stripper, for fuck‟s sake. Not the sort of woman who went

without sex for two years. He‟d been an idiot to believe that when she‟d

whispered the trembling lie as he‟d tumbled her into bed three months ago.

She was in the business of leading men around by their dicks. And she was

good at it. He couldn‟t be angry with her for being herself; she‟d never

pretended to be anything different. But he could—and should—be furious

with himself for caring.

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Despite the lot being completely empty, he‟d parked three spots from

her. As he pressed his key fob to unlock the driver‟s door, he watched her

do the same with her black sports car. Luc fisted his hands. She‟d go home

now, lose that little black skirt, white tank, red bra, and fuck-me shoes.

Even though she played no part in the future he craved, he itched to follow

her home . . . help her out of every garment, sink down into that perfect,

tight body.

He swallowed. Keep your dick in your pants. Cook, shut up, and get

the hell out of Lafayette. Seven days. Think you can find some self-control?

A feminine shriek zipped across the lot, shattering his thoughts.

Alyssa.

Luc‟s heart stuttered, and he nearly leapt over his car as he rushed

across the asphalt. She backed away—right into his chest. He steadied

her, palms cupping her bare shoulders.

Alyssa drew in a shuddering breath. “Bastards!”

Before he could ask her who or what she meant, she reached into the

interior and yanked on something. A moment later, she produced a long,

serrated knife with a piece of paper attached. Under the streetlamps, it

gleamed the word WHORE in bright red lipstick.

Shock crested, then quickly morphed into molten fury. It was ironic;

he‟d been thinking something similar only moments ago. But he would

never have said it aloud, much less stabbed it to the front seat of her

convertible.

She tossed the knife into her front seat and cast him a wary stare over

her shoulder. “Who knows?”

Luc turned her to face him and clenched his jaw. “Who. Did. This. To.

You?”

His tone took her aback. “Look, it‟s not new. Shit happens all the time.”

All the time? That only infuriated him more. Luc drew her closer as a

thunderous frown stole across his face. She wasn‟t afraid, and he was

scared as hell for her. “What have the police said in the past?”

customer who thought I didn‟t pay enough attention to him, most likely.”

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And whoever did this could also be dead serious. That blade was no

laughing matter. “What if someone really sick wants to hurt you? How long

has it been going on?”

target in a shadowy parking lot. He didn‟t provide personal security detail

like his cousin Deke, but he‟d spent enough time with the man and his

business partner, Jack Cole, to know that remaining out in the open could

be deadly.

so they can investigate.”

Alyssa hesitated, then softened. “Luc. Your concern is really sweet,

but—”

She blanched, and he cursed under his breath. He needed to get

control of his temper. But the soaring sexual frustration, coupled with his

alarm, had him on edge. Who thought they had the right to malign and

scare her? Fists curled, Luc craved a chance to pound the asshole.

Alyssa sighed, and Luc readied his next argument, but she strolled

toward his SUV. “Fine.”

He opened the door for her and watched her slide inside, the strands

of her platinum hair settling over her shoulders. She looked somewhere

between placid and reserved, despite the fact that she‟d just been

threatened. Was she out of her mind?

Shaking his head, he dashed around to the driver‟s seat. When he slid

inside, she was already on the phone.

messed with my car . . .”

Quickly and unemotionally, she relayed their location and the event.

Luc heard murmurs of the other man‟s conversation, his tone more goodol‟-boy than concerned, and he frowned. Didn‟t anyone take this seriously?

He grabbed the phone from her and spit out an introduction. “Dust for

prints. She touched the weapon, but you may find other sets on the handle.

Whoever did this broke into her car.”

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rowdy from time to time—”

cleared his throat. “It‟s not. But I don‟t think no one meant no harm.”

Luc gritted his teeth together. “Do you usually solve all your cases

before you visit the crime scene?”

Finally, Remy got serious. “I‟ll investigate.”

Alyssa grabbed the phone. “Thanks, honey. I appreciate it.”

When he ended the call, Luc could barely unclench his jaw as he sped

away from the parking lot. “Honey? The man didn‟t even want to

investigate, and you call him „honey‟?”

She shrugged. “It‟s a Louisiana thing. You‟ll catch more flies with

honey than vinegar.”

watch you strip tonight?”

She swallowed. “I asked all the local enforcement to come, including

the sheriff. Keeps down the possibility of rowdies getting out of control and

trashing the club.”

Luc gripped the wheel tighter as he peeled out of the parking lot. “So

that‟s a yes.”

Fighting the urge to hit something in an unusual show of temper, he

took a deep breath. The night he‟d spent with her, it had been easy to

pretend she had no other lover. They‟d been alone, her house quiet. No

phone ringing, no customers nearby, no psychos leaving menacing “gifts”

in her car. Just the two of them, and hours upon hours of pleasure. God,

he‟d been so damn gullible.

She nodded. “Why does it matter if Remy and the boys were there?”

The short answer was that it shouldn‟t.

room. At nearly four in the morning, Homer has likely given your room away

to one of those tourists come around for the arts festival that starts

tomorrow.”

He frowned. After everything that had happened tonight, she was

worried about him? “I guaranteed that room with a credit card.”

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A Mona Lisa smile played at the corner of her mouth. That quickly, she

made his dick hard again. Damn, how did the woman do it?

after the club closed, he figured your room was fair game. But if you don‟t

believe me, call him.” She punched a few buttons on the phone and

handed it to him.

reason why, and it horrified him. Did she turn tricks?

Hell, he was going to throw up.

usually helps me out.”

Luc liked her explanation much better. But still, he wondered. Didn‟t a

lot of strippers earn extra cash on the side?

As the phone rang in his ear, Luc turned to Alyssa. Her face was

golden under the streetlights shining through the windows as he raced

down the quaint redbrick street, toward a neighborhood of older, still

elegant homes. Odd that he remembered exactly how to find her house,

despite the fact he‟d been here just once. The image of the little craftsman

with the Zen interior was burned into his brain.

Homer answered a moment later, muttering his words. Clearly, he‟d

been asleep and sounded none too happy about being awakened.

to check in. You still have my room?”

The man on the other end cleared his throat. “Well, when you didn‟t

show, I thought . . .”

Luc waited, his temper rising again, for the motel‟s owner to finish that

thought. “Thought what? You‟d give my room away?”

road-weary folks came in with little ones and—”

phone to his ear.

Some great zydeco bands playin‟ this year.”

Luc resisted the urge to count to ten. “And tomorrow night?”

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chain hotels a few miles down the road . . .” Homer said with obvious

distaste. “Bet they‟re booked up, too. ‟Sides, I wouldn‟t let my dog sleep

there. They don‟t clean nothin‟. ”

His head was going to explode. Luc was accustomed to traveling to

cosmopolitan cities. He stayed at Hotel de Crillon when he traveled to

Paris, the Dorchester in London, the Peninsula in Tokyo, the Beverly

Wilshire in Los Angeles. The fact he‟d been stiffed on a room at Homer‟s

Cajun Haven at four in the morning crawled on his last nerve.

He hit the end button on the conversation. Instead of giving in to his

urge to throw the phone, he stiffly handed it back to Alyssa.

well.”

And since he was, no doubt, another man who had seen Alyssa

naked, Homer knew her awfully well, too.

Luc sighed. He had to stop caring who‟d seen her bare. He‟d want to

rip the heads off most of the male population of this town for the next week

if he didn‟t get himself under control. He‟d fucked her for one night. What

she‟d done before—or after—was none of his affair.

So why did it bug the hell out of him? And where was he going to sleep

tonight?

and quiet and—”

Last time he‟d spent the night in her body, he‟d been insatiable. For six

hours. Nothing had been too searing, too depraved, too intimate. She‟d

wrenched the sort of desire from him that burned him, shamed and elated

him at once. He‟d taken everything she offered, then more—then come

back again. He‟d fucked her in every way a man could, repeatedly.

Bareback. Something he hadn‟t done in more than a decade, except with

Kimber.

And the memories of that incredible night with Alyssa were fraying his

self-control.

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She laid a soft hand over his as it gripped the gearshift. Her touch

seized him clear down to his balls, igniting his blood.

tonight isn‟t a prank, then I‟d feel better not to be alone. Do you mind?”

Yes. Very much. But he‟d be every kind of a bastard if he said no.

He sent her a tight smile. “It will be my pleasure.”

HE was lying through his teeth. Then again, so was she. She‟d paid

Homer very handsomely to give Luc‟s room away and she doubted that,

despite the prank, anyone would try to hurt her tonight.

As Luc‟s SUV whipped down Lafayette‟s dark streets, exhaustion

should have been weighing on her. Instead, she was filled with anticipation.

She was finally going to be alone with the man she most wanted, in her

house, where he‟d made mad love to her before. Too bad Luc wasn‟t

happy about it.

He was a puzzle. The lust in his eyes was unmistakable. Hell, every

time he looked her way he damn near burned her. But his contempt wasn‟t

hard to piece together. So his anger that someone else thought she was a

whore intrigued her.

car?”

Sadly, the list was long. “Luc, let‟s wait and see what Remy comes

back with.”

while you‟re sleeping, I‟d like to have some idea who I‟ll be dealing with.”

Tyler. Or Jack Cole. He and your cousin are the best, and he‟s an old

friend. Because of him, the house has a top-of-the-line security system.”

Luc ground his jaw. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “I

said I‟d keep you safe tonight and I will. Answer the question.”

He wasn‟t letting this go, and that gave Alyssa hope. Maybe he cared,

at least a bit. Even if it was against his good sense and his will.

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amount of time her man spends in my club. That‟s common.”

No. She‟d had her tires deflated, her house egged, more ugly notes

than she could count. Scorned women usually annoyed and rarely

disturbed.

ones?”

She closed her eyes. Naturally, he‟d assume there were many of both.

She‟d been down this road; it shouldn‟t hurt. But damn, it did. “The night

you spent with me, I told you there hadn‟t been anyone in two years.

There‟s been no one since you.”

Luc shook his head, looking as though a hundred different thoughts

blazed through it. “Alyssa, you could be in danger. I need you to be

completely honest.”

Jerking around in her seat, she faced him, trying to keep a lid on her

temper. “I have been honest. Just because you don‟t believe me doesn‟t

make me a liar.”

seeing your gorgeous breasts naked? Not a contractor who did you a favor

and wanted something in return?”

Anger seized her, gripping her chest in a steely fist. “I don‟t roll that

way.”

He hesitated. “So you didn‟t agree to fuck me three months ago so

you‟d have a guest chef this week?”

No, I was willing to say anything because I wanted you so badly . . .

and hoped you’d want me back. And not for anything would she wear her

heart on her sleeve now. He‟d left her before dawn and pawned her off with

flowers. Now he‟d all but intimated she was a whore.

But if there was one thing she knew, it was men. He felt something for

her. Her mission was to make it more.

Alyssa had had enough of his shit. She grabbed his chin and turned

him to face her. “Maybe I was simply stupid enough to believe all your

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Southern gentleman charm and wanted to know what it was like to have

sex with someone who didn‟t see me as a prostitute. Silly me. You were

definitely more hard-core than anyone I‟ve had, way more than your whitebread exterior suggests.

You roll out that sort of red carpet for every

woman?”

He tore away from her grip and clutched the steering wheel even

tighter. He exhaled harshly, clearly trying to restrain his temper. So his

behavior that night was a sore spot? Maybe he hadn‟t wanted to want her

and was mortified that he had. And still did.

one in two years prior to me.”

None of his fucking business. As far as she was concerned, this

conversation was in the toilet. Logic told her to retire her stupid happilyever-fantasies about Luc. He hadn‟t made love to her with such fervor

because he felt the pull between them. He‟d done it because she‟d been

his first real walk on the wild side and being bad flipped his switch. They

probably should just have sex and not bother with emotions.

But her heart didn‟t want to give up.

someone who‟s been in my bed. It‟s someone who‟s pissed at me.”

He sent her a considering shrug, then took off as the light turned

green. “Like who?”

don‟t even know his last name. He started coming around about six months

ago. Real regular. Daddy is rich, and he drops a lot of money at the club.

Seems to think that entitles him to special perks.”

tense.

out, let him know his advances aren‟t welcome. But nothing fazes this kid.”

Luc gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “He ever call you a

whore?”

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Alyssa shook her head. “He‟s usually real graphic about what he

wants—nasty, dirty shit—but has never resorted to name calling. That‟s

Councilman Primpton‟s speed.”

How naïve was Luc? “Of course. His voting base is very conservative,

so if he shut Sexy Sirens down, he‟d be their hero. Even some middle-ofthe-road folks would be thrilled to see me go. That‟s been Primpton‟s

mission since he got elected eighteen months ago. The attempts started

small, but with his reelection coming up, he‟s been applying more

pressure.”

about the den of sin in the city‟s backyard and the „trash‟ who runs it.

Recently, he collaborated with a reporter to wear a wire and solicit me for

sex.” She snorted. “I can shove a lot of four-letter words into „no.‟ ”

Finally, they pulled up in front of her house. She hopped out and

motioned for him to wait in the car. Juggling her keys, she unlocked the

front door, unset the alarm, then ran around to the garage door and hit the

button to open it. Luc drove in, then climbed out of the car, duffel bag in

hand. He looked tense and nervous.

anyone vandalizing your SUV or wagging their tongues. Come in.”

He nodded, his stare glued to her. Alyssa closed the garage door

behind them. She‟d give anything to know what Luc was thinking. His tense

demeanor and unflagging erection told her it was probably ways to avoid

having the sex with her he knew he shouldn‟t want but desperately did. And

after tonight‟s interrogation, she was in the mood to make him suffer.

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