Chapter Four

Chapter Four

BEFORE Luc could stop Alyssa, she‟d pushed his pants and briefs to

his hips and taken his cock in her hand.

To be fair, he didn‟t try very hard to stop her.

The moment her palm wrapped around his erection, he sizzled, jolted

as if he‟d been pumped full of a thousand volts. God, everything about her

was potent, overwhelming. He was drowning—the feel of her tight grip, the

silkiness of her golden hair in his hands, the gut-punching sight of her

licking her lips.

Shit. He had to stop this. But how, when he wanted her so badly?

He‟d eschewed sex for weeks. After his night with Alyssa, he‟d pinned

all his hopes for a child on Kimber and Deke, single-mindedly bedding the

girl every bit as often as his cousin. But he‟d be lying if he said Alyssa

hadn‟t lingered in his thoughts. Being with Kimber had been absorbing. He

realized later it had been the situation . . . not the woman. After that, he‟d

pushed aside his sex drive in favor of a future, a wife who would be the sort

of devoted mom his own was.

Now the woman he‟d ached for since that wild, dark night was on her

knees in front of him, and God help him, he didn‟t have the willpower to

stop himself from urging her mouth closer to his throbbing cock.

She opened her mouth, started to ease forward. Then she stopped.

Now she was taunting him. That teasing allure had been his undoing

three months ago, turned what should have been a normal night of sex into

an unforgettable marathon in which he‟d been determined to . . . He almost

didn‟t have words for his urge. Put some sort of stamp on her. Leave his

mark. If she wasn‟t careful, she was going to get the same treatment in her

very own kitchen.

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Alyssa sent him another of those playful smiles. “Yes, sir.”

Her words set his blood on fire. God, she was going to destroy him.

This wasn‟t smart, and he knew it. At the moment, he didn‟t fucking care.

He had to get her mouth around him, had to feel her tongue lash him, see

her submissive at his feet.

Why now? Why this woman?

She moved in, parted her lips. Luc widened his stance, bracing himself

for the first electric lick, his whole system jacked up on lust and need to

possess. Then Alyssa exhaled on the sensitive head of his dick, and he

shivered. Sensation rioted, and he held his breath. Trembled.

Her tongue peeked out. It was the most fucking erotic thing he‟d ever

seen. Closer, closer . . .

Her heels clicking across the hardwood floors, toward the kitchen,

finally registered in Luc‟s lust-saturated brain. Shit!

Alyssa rocked back on her heels, then stood. She cast a regretful

glance down at his cock, then brushed a soft hand across his face.

Even her hand on his cheek sent sparks colliding inside him, and he

cursed and pulled away, tucking himself back into his pants and righting his

shirt.

As painful as this was, maybe he should be grateful for the reprieve.

Whoever had arrived had just saved him from making a terrible mistake.

Because no way would he have stopped at a blow job.

Regret softened Alyssa‟s face. “Luc—”

She sighed and made her way out of the kitchen to intercept the new

arrival. Luc stood behind a counter, panting, willing his cock to stand down.

He couldn‟t be meeting his brigade for the week with an erection like this.

Why did Alyssa drive him to reckless acts he knew weren‟t good for

him? Why did he let her?

Moments later, she returned with one of the sous chefs, Misa. He

remembered her résumé, and she seemed both competent and excited for

the job. A little starstruck, which always made Luc shake his head. Despite

having a lot of bestselling cookbooks and a solid reputation in the culinary

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world, he found the whole “fame” thing odd. Thankfully, the petite Hispanic

woman got over it quickly and took direction well.

The rest of the staff appeared in the next few minutes, and Luc talked

them through the process. He assigned duties, and they cooked a few of

the specials as a team to ensure that everyone knew what to do and they

worked out any kinks before opening their doors. Tomorrow would be their

mock service night, so they‟d be open only to people Alyssa had invited,

who had agreed to provide feedback.

She excused herself a moment later to confer with the waitstaff

gathered in the dining room. As the smells of the kitchen wafted around

Luc, and he looked around at the smart, proficient team of chefs Alyssa

had assembled—without his help—he was impressed all over again. She

was a damn smart woman.

And admiring her was only going to screw with his head more.

Already, he wanted her so badly he could barely concentrate. Liking more

than her body would only be a double dose of stupid. But he feared it was

already too late. What would happen after her evening at the club, when

they went to her little house—and they were alone?

MEETINGS concluded, Alyssa climbed into the SUV beside Luc in

Bonheur‟s parking lot. The heavy silence between them jangled her nerves.

He‟d definitely put off the vibe that he didn‟t want to continue what Misa had

interrupted. But his erection had risen again the minute they were alone,

unmistakable and unflagging.

She tapped her toe, thinking. Everything inside her wanted to throw

her arms around him and entice him again. The other half . . . Well, the offputting vibe was strong, and she wasn‟t dumb. He was close to the

breaking point. After she got him into bed, she hoped he‟d relax and

conversation would follow. Until then, all she could do was continue to

tease him and deny her own needs.

She reached out, touched his shoulder. “The meetings went well. The

staff seems very excited. Thank you for staying this week.”

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Luc jolted at her touch, then relaxed. “I needed to live up to our

bargain. You had every right to call me on it.”

to be where they don‟t want to.” The truth, but it made her wince. Pray to

God he didn‟t ask her why. “If I hadn‟t advertised the fact you‟d be here

opening week and had so much of my savings into the place, I would have

let you walk.”

He turned to her with a puzzled scowl. “After the way I—After that

night, I don‟t deserve your compassion. I know I was hard on you.”

But that doesn‟t erase the fact I wasn‟t gentle with you. I‟m not proud of that

night. I‟m . . . sorry.”

rush. “Don‟t you dare be sorry, either.”

He didn‟t comment. Instead, he seemed to mull her answer over.

Where was that question coming from? Luc was fishing for something.

How much should she reveal?

Finally, she shook her head. “I still would have been with you.”

Luc‟s jaw dropped. Then he closed his mouth, shaking his head as he

sped down the road. “You barely knew me. We‟d met . . . what, twice

before that night?”

Three times, actually. But the first time, she‟d been working—taking off

her clothes. They hadn‟t been formally introduced. The other times had

been casual gatherings. “I suspected right away we‟d be good together. I

was right.”

Pasting on a smile, Alyssa turned away. Hopefully, Luc wouldn‟t dig

any further into that topic. She‟d have to keep playing it casual. He wasn‟t

ready to hear that he‟d rocked her to her core the night they‟d spent

together, that she‟d loved his toe-curlingly intimate conversation.

No woman has ever given me such pleasure. I could drown in you

forever. Touch me, sugar. Yeeessss . . .

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As they approached the club, Alyssa filed the memory away. In

silence, Luc stopped the car and shoved it into park. She reached for the

door handle, and he grabbed her wrist, staying her.

A dozen comebacks ran through her head, most on the theme that he

couldn‟t truly know his statement to be fact because they hadn‟t tried

anything beyond sex. But contradicting him would only make him more

resistant. And that was counterproductive. She had to keep playing her

trump card.

Before he could respond, she jerked from his grasp and exited the

SUV. She burst into the club through the back door, Luc at her heels.

Refusing to allow herself to be rattled, she kept walking. “I can‟t

answer that. Nor do I have time to try. I have a business to run. If you‟d like

to go back to the house, I‟ll have Tyler give me a ride home when the club

is closed.”

Just then, her bouncer approached, wearing two days‟ growth of

beard, a khaki shirt with Bettie Page in a bikini and fishnet stockings, and a

mischievous smile. He stepped up beside her, slung his arm around her

waist, hand caressing her hip. Then he buried his face in her neck and

inhaled.

Alyssa raised a brow at Tyler. But this shit was par for his course.

Luc gritted his teeth. “I‟ll wait for you and take you home.”

Since showing annoyance at Tyler‟s display would not deter him, she

simply smiled. “Great. I need to make sure everyone‟s got the right

costumes and props. Last night was a mess. Thank God most everyone

was too drunk to notice.”

Tyler wrapped his arm around her again. “Wait. I came back here to

tell you that your least favorite asshole is outside with his friends.”

Obviously attention. What‟s his cause du jour?”

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eyes. As if she didn‟t have enough to worry about. The restaurant‟s mock

service was tomorrow. Luc was surprisingly edgy. She had to be at the top

of her game to get his attention. What she didn‟t need today was Primpton

giving her shit.

He knew this crap bothered her. He‟d caught her alone and crying

once after Primpton had publicly called her some really ugly names.

boycott Bonheur?”

elected official calling her a whore. It would cement that as truth in his

mind.

with him.”

Damn it! Fate had it in for her. “He‟s trying to scare people away from

the restaurant‟s opening.”

stages one of these protests, it hits me in the bank account. The married,

over-thirty crowd is one of the most lucrative, and I‟m guessing that men

who‟ve gotten an earful from their wives stay away, at least for a while. I

recover eventually, but I worry the restaurant could be different. I‟d been

hoping for crossover business, but now . . .”

see you?”

Luc caught on quick.

give up the stage and wait tables.”

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dance around a pole for the rest of their lives, so they‟re waiting tables to

make ends meet and going to school during their off-hours.” She shrugged.

Surprise crossed Luc‟s face. “You went to college while . . . dancing?”

God, did he think she had no other aspiration than to take off her

clothes? She lifted her chin. “Double major. Business admin and

communications. Last year, I finished an MBA. I‟m not just a pole dancer,

Mr. Traverson; I‟m a business owner. It behooves me to know what the hell

I‟m doing. Now, I‟m off to discourage Primpton.”

Alyssa turned toward the stairs, bristling. She shouldn‟t be surprised

that Luc didn‟t see beyond her sexy façade. The first time they‟d met, she‟d

been wearing a G-string and pasties. She‟d had little opportunity to improve

her image with him since.

and garters?”

LUC watched Alyssa, fixated, the front of his jeans expanding, as she

disappeared to the private upper level of Sexy Sirens. His head was

spinning.

A double major? And a master‟s degree? To say he‟d had no idea

would be a colossal understatement. He‟d suspected that behind the

woman‟s sharp blue eyes was a lot of intelligence. The ambition surprised

him. Business owner or not, that was a lot of education for a stripper.

But now she was also a restaurant owner.

Was Bonheur part of some life change/self-improvement plan? And

what about her waitstaff?

Though it chafed him, Luc turned to Tyler. The bouncer stared at the

empty stairs, his tongue virtually hanging out of his mouth. Luc knew the

bouncer wanted her. Hell, despite Alyssa‟s protests, he wouldn‟t be

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surprised if they were lovers. But Tyler‟s expression said he admired

Alyssa, had feelings for her. Was it mutual?

A sudden pang of jealousy smacked Luc right between his pectorals.

He fisted his hands. Could she actually love the mouthy slab of beef?

It didn‟t matter. He had questions . . . and Tyler had answers. Whether

Tyler and Alyssa were burning up the sheets or having an affair of the heart

was none of his concern—even if it bugged the hell out of him.

Luc shrugged, playing casual. “Curious.”

in a way that‟s so fucking sexy. It‟s hard not to think with your dick when

she‟s around.” Tyler pierced him with a laser stare. “Isn‟t that right?”

All too true . . . “And the waitstaff at Bonheur? Are they all in school

and elected to wait tables?”

after the pole. If they want to get an education, she helps them find tuition

assistance and apply for scholarships. She encourages them to make more

of themselves. A couple of the girls just want to keep better hours so they

have more time with their kids.”

Wow. He hadn‟t seen the caring side of Alyssa. This news surely

brought her into a whole new dimension. “Couldn‟t these women make

more money stripping and . . . taking customers on the side?”

hear that. She‟d skin you alive and boil you in oil. That shit doesn‟t happen

here. Period. ‟Course she can‟t stop a dancer willing to entertain customers

after hours and off premises, but she usually ends up firing them since

they‟re often trouble.”

The answer floored Luc. Educated and principled? Had he failed to

see past their scorching sex and her short skirts to the woman underneath?

As much as he hated to admit it, yes.

But did it matter? As much as he wanted her, he couldn‟t take her. She

wasn‟t a mommy candidate. He couldn‟t even see her as someone‟s wife.

Alyssa would be impossible to tame, and Luc wanted a woman who would

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be content to stay home and focus on children. He didn‟t see her as that

type.

But her values went deeper than he‟d believed. She worked damn

hard and deserved a break.

Tyler smiled tightly. “With all the local press. Someone needs to stop

this prick. She doesn‟t need him, especially now.”

woman died.”

Died? “When?”

Though they still lived in Florida, and Luc didn‟t see his parents often,

they talked frequently. He loved them very much and would be devastated

if something happened to them. Certainly, he‟d be in no shape to open a

new business.

Tyler‟s answer was both automatic and adamant. And his face said he

refused to say any more on the subject.

teeth. “It‟s going to bug the shit out of her.”

Not if Luc could help it.

A few minutes later, Alyssa emerged into weak sunlight. The muggy

September air had an oppressive feeling, and she was glad she‟d decided

to forgo curling her hair. In this humidity, her do would be undone in no time

flat. Plus, the sedate French twist looked classy.

With a hand above her brow, she shielded her eyes and scanned the

sidewalk. There. Primpton and his oh-so-moral followers stood on the

sidewalk mere feet away with signs and angry expressions. Among his

followers were two men who had watched her onstage last night, then paid

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Sadie for a private lap dance. She arched a brow at them. They looked

away—but held up their hateful signs.

Of course. Outside the walls of this club, she didn‟t exist as a real

person. Just a whore.

Flashbulbs went off and a chorus of voices spoke over one another, all

shouting. She frowned and looked at the cluster of people. Reporters. Then

she gasped.

They were all gathered around Luc.

Primpton yelled at the press. “There‟s the jezebel! Take her picture.

Tell the good people of Lafayette not to glorify a woman who reveals and

sells her body to strangers.”

Alyssa sighed. More of the same spiel. Didn‟t this moron ever get

bored? Or give a shit about facts? Customers never got laid at Sexy Sirens.

At the councilman‟s shout, cameras swung in her direction. Shutters

clicked. Alyssa hid behind her sunglasses and opened her mouth to

address the reporters with her prepared press release in hand.

Instead, Luc spoke. “Thank you for coming today. I‟m excited to be the

guest chef at Bonheur. I have no doubt it will become Lafayette‟s premier

fine-dining experience. I‟ve personally overseen this week‟s menu, infusing

it with the flavors from my books. You‟ll be in for a real treat. From décor to

food and wine, it‟s top notch.”

Alyssa bit her lip. Of all the questions the press could ask, that wasn‟t

one he could answer honestly without making her bad public opinion

worse.

for some months. She was kind enough to assist me with a matter not long

ago. When the opportunity to repay her kindness arose, I happily said yes.”

settle something between my cousin and me. She‟s quite sage. And that

shows in everything she‟s created at Bonheur. The more I‟ve been involved

with the restaurant and its staff, the more impressed I‟ve become.”

Alyssa blinked. Luc was smooth. And that he‟d said such things, press

or no, amazed her.

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reporter asked.

Wow, with a little charm and some misdirection, the press had

suddenly focused on something besides publicly branding her a whore. Of

course, having a celebrity like Luc in town was news for Lafayette, but still .

. .

him, and he‟s allowing himself to be led down the sinner‟s path. Pray for

him; there‟s time to save his immortal soul. But her!” Primpton speared a

meaty finger toward Alyssa. “Condemn the devil‟s mistress who‟s infiltrated

the good town of Lafayette and seeks to corrupt our community and its

morality!”

continued as if Primpton had never spoken. “There‟s an eggplant ravioli

appetizer that‟s to die for. I have a pan-seared fillet with pearl onions, feta

cheese, and a rich burgundy glaze that will melt in your mouth. Dessert is a

surprise. The whole menu is amazing, and I urge you to attend in the next

week and see for yourself how special Bonheur is. You won‟t be

disappointed. The first hundred tables will receive a signed booklet with the

week‟s recipes.”

Alyssa did a double take. Booklets? That was generous of him.

Reporters shouted more questions at Luc after that, but he merely

turned on the dazzling charm. Then he looked her way. With his first

glance, his eyes nearly popped from his head.

Hmm. Was the pencil-slim skirt and white button-down blouse with

classic pumps too ridiculous?

Though Luc‟s expression didn‟t answer her unspoken question, he

recovered quickly and gestured to her. “Here‟s the lovely lady who can

answer all of your questions. Alyssa Devereaux has worked incredibly hard

to make Bonheur a reality. I don‟t want to steal her thunder. Why don‟t you

tell them all the wonderful things about your new place?”

Something stung her eyes. Tears? Damn it! But there they were. Luc

had done something . . . nice for her. And the press was transfixed by him.

She was no different. Alyssa blinked away her tears.

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Out of the corner of her gaze, she caught Primpton and his followers

fuming in silence. Rejoicing inside, she approached Luc, bursting with

gratitude. For now, all she could do was mouth, Thank you.

Later, she‟d show him exactly how much his support meant to her.

LUC had a headache, one that emanated from his clenched jaw and

pounded in his temples. It clawed up the back of his neck and made his

eyebrows throb. The source of the pain stood not five feet from him,

dressed again in a saucy, up-to-there skirt and a come-hither smile.

After Primpton left in defeat, the action at Sexy Sirens started

swinging. Now Alyssa smiled at a group of males all crowding around her.

Luc couldn‟t hear the conversation, but there was no missing the way she

crossed those long legs slowly, rubbing one against the other, then

perched on the edge of her chair with a coy glance. The men—of all

ages—nearly swallowed their tongues. So did Luc.

Tyler hovered behind her chair protectively. That was his job. But one

of the other guys edged too close to Alyssa and tried to steal a kiss. In a

blink, the bouncer grabbed his jersey and shoved him back. Before the guy

finished stumbling, Tyler had his hand resting possessively on Alyssa‟s

shoulder.

to remind them.

That didn‟t deter Alyssa‟s audience. One guy dropped to his knees, a

breath away from her thighs, and got an eyeful of her legs—and took the

scenic route to her breasts.

Now it wasn‟t just Luc‟s head throbbing, but his blood as well. The

asshole was completely objectifying her, staring at a collection of her body

parts. What the fuck did he know about her as a woman?

Haven’t you been guilty of the same offense? Luc shoved the voice in

his head away.

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As Tyler dragged the trash at Alyssa‟s feet upright, the biggest of the

younger men bent close. He braced one hand against the back of the chair

and whispered in her ear.

She looked trapped against the chair. Tyler was still scuffling with the

other scumbag. And Luc had seen enough.

Suppressing a growl, he stomped toward Alyssa, ready to bust heads.

But Tyler got there first, knocking the would-be whisperer back with a

snarled, “You know the rules. Back the fuck off, Peter.”

Peter? The guy she‟d mentioned after they‟d found the knife in her

car?

Then Tyler lifted Alyssa, sat in her chair, and set her on his lap. His

hand rested high on her thigh, the other on her waist. And the bouncer‟s

fingers weren‟t still. They roamed, his thumb brushing the curve of her

breast, his other palm disappearing under her skirt, over her hip.

Alyssa didn‟t blink, much less fight him off.

This intimacy didn‟t look as if it was purely for show, since Alyssa

seemed entirely comfortable with the asshole‟s touch. They looked like

lovers.

Luc glanced at his watch. Shit. It was only 9:00. He couldn‟t see this

for another five hours without puking. Or hitting someone. Or grabbing her

and staking a claim he couldn‟t keep.

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Luc grabbed it, thankful for

anything to do. Deke.

Closing his eyes, Luc tried to get a handle on his temper. “Sorry. Just

edgy. I thought you were coming today to look at Alyssa‟s security system.”

back door?”

Deke wasn‟t the talking type. He‟d almost rather cut his tongue out, so

his request thumped into the pit of Luc‟s stomach. Whatever it was couldn‟t

be good.

mauling Alyssa.

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Within minutes, Deke pounded a fist on the back door. It was almost

impossible to hear with Muse blasting in the background, but Luc swung

the door wide for his cousin. Deke entered the club, all tense mien and

watchful gaze. You could take the man out of the military, but . . .

With an uneasy glance around, Deke asked, “Is there someplace we

can talk?”

Luc hesitated. “Come with me.”

Circling back across the club‟s floor, Luc was grateful that the crowd

around Alyssa had swelled until he could no longer see Tyler touch her. He

kept heading toward the front, then paused at the bar, sliding a fifty-dollar

bill across the surface.

The bartender, whom Luc had met only in passing, shrugged and

deposited the money in the till, then slid eight longneck bottles across the

smooth, well-worn surface.

Luc handed the first four to his cousin, then picked up the rest. “Come

with me.”

Deke raised a brow but said nothing as he followed Luc to Alyssa‟s

private, soundproofed office. Luc kicked the door shut, slammed the bottles

on Alyssa‟s desk, and tore one open. He drank the whole thing in three

swallows.

How the hell did he answer that? “Crappy day.”

Deke set the bottles in his hands down, then lowered himself into a

chair. He looked nervous. Damn nervous. Luc instantly regretted his

behavior. Deke clearly had something weighing on his mind, far beyond

petty jealousy for a woman who wasn‟t even his.

Deke grabbed a beer, opened it . . . stalled for time. “Man, I don‟t know

where to start. I meant to be out here sooner today.” He swallowed. “But

instead we dropped in on Kimber‟s family this morning.”

Long drive for an impromptu visit. “Is everything okay with her father?”

beer.

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Luc felt ready to scream. What the hell did Deke need to tell him that

he didn‟t want to? “Hunter? Logan?”

Deke leaned forward in his chair, set his beer aside, and shot Luc a direct,

apologetic glance. “I wanted to tell you face-to-face. Myself.” He swallowed.

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