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surface, framing Tyler. The bouncer looked tense. He glared when he

caught sight of Luc.

“What‟s going on?” she asked him as she approached and tried to

brush past him.

Tyler grabbed her arms and pulled her against his body. Then he

cupped her face in his hand, his mouth hovering a breath above hers.

Everything inside Luc railed at the sight. His mind screamed an order

for Tyler to take his hands off Alyssa. Two facts hit him: First, she wasn‟t

Luc‟s, so he had no say in who touched her. Second, she wasn‟t fighting

Tyler in the least.

He whispered something Luc couldn‟t hear. In return, she nodded

anxiously. Tyler hesitated, kissed her forehead, then took hold of her hand

and reached for the door.

“What‟s going on?” he asked the bouncer.

Tyler glared at him over his shoulder. “I‟m responsible for her safety,

and I take it very seriously. Go back to your fryalator.”

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If he‟d had any less control over his temper, Luc would have charged

the bastard, despite the fact Tyler outweighed him by thirty pounds of

muscle. Luc was sure he would have gotten in at least a few good swipes.

But why give the asshole what he wanted?

“You give up your stand-up routine because you sucked?”

Alyssa jumped in between them, anger tightening her face. “Could you

two stop it? Luc, someone broke into the club between last night‟s close

and Tyler‟s arrival at ten this morning.”

Luc went dead cold inside. Pure coincidence that someone had

stabbed her seat with a knife, then her club had been broken into mere

hours—or minutes—later? He‟d spent enough time with Jack and Cousin

Deke. Coincidences made them uncomfortable, and Luc agreed.

“They barged in through an upstairs window. Remy and the boys came

over, but so far it doesn‟t look like anything was taken. Tyler is trying to

figure out how someone bypassed the security system. I‟ll have to call Jack

and have him figure it out.”

“Deke told me that Jack and Morgan are visiting her mother in

California,” Luc supplied.

Tyler clenched his jaw. “Shit.”

“I‟ll call Deke and see when he can do it,” Luc offered.

Her wary blue eyes flitted his way. “Thanks.”

Before he could respond, Tyler dragged her inside. Eerie quiet

reigned. No one else was inside. Luc didn‟t like the interior‟s vibe.

“Maybe someone who came for the anniversary celebration last night

hid upstairs and let a buddy in after hours?” Alyssa suggested.

Tyler shook his head. “We always do a thorough sweep before locking

up. And even if someone managed to elude us, opening a window from the

inside would trip the alarm.”

“Did you find anything out of place?” Luc asked. “Any . . . messages?”

“Luc, I doubt they‟re connected.”

“But you don‟t know that they aren‟t.”

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JUST before eleven thirty, Alyssa followed Luc back outside to his

SUV and they headed to Bonheur. The cloudy, muggy October day made

the interior shadowy and stuffy. She hit the lights and started the overhead

fans. Then she turned to Luc expectantly.

“The contractor is coming at two to fix the wall. Says he‟ll be done by

sixish. What next?” She made her way to the kitchen, flipping on those

lights. “You want to talk about opening day‟s specials? Tomorrow is coming

fast.”

Luc followed. “Why would someone break into the club?”

She sighed. “I don‟t know. Sometimes drunk frat boys get out of hand.

I can‟t afford to put too much energy into thinking about it now. That‟s

Tyler‟s job. Yours is to make opening day successful. What else do I need

to do?”

“Take this threat seriously.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun

her around.

Alyssa raised a brow at him. He looked agitated, his breath coming

fast. She blinked slowly, getting a long look at his erection on the visual

journey down. Definitely aroused. She repressed a smile.

“I‟d like to, but I can‟t afford to ignore the pending opening to focus on

a few odd events. How did you phrase it earlier? What I want isn‟t what I

need.” She smiled at him, crossing her arms under her breasts and pushing

her cleavage above her tank‟s neckline.

Predictably, his gaze followed. He swallowed hard.

“Don‟t ignore the danger because you‟re angry with me.”

Alyssa wondered why she mattered to him at all.
Interesting question
.

. .

“I‟m not. Just stating facts.”

With that, she pulled away from his grip and spun around. She had a

suspicion that Luc was used to being in control and getting the last word in.

He wouldn‟t like it if she turned her back on him now—especially if the view

included her skirt clinging very low on her hips and exposing the rose tattoo

on her lower back.

With a sway of her hips, she prowled toward the nearest stainless

steel counter, stroked its sleek surface . . . and waited. She barely heard

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him cover the handful of steps separating them before he fisted her hair in

his hand and forced her gaze up to his.

“Stop pissing me off,” he growled.

“Stop telling me how to react.”

Luc‟s mouth tightened, as did his grip on her hair. Alyssa merely sent

him a challenging stare and a matching smile.

Something about this argument was getting to him, revving his blood.

The gentlemanly Southern chef had a nasty side, and she was making him

feel it.

“Damn you!” His mouth crashed over hers.

He shoved her against the counter as he pushed past her lips, into the

hot cavern of her mouth, and inhaled her all at once. His tongue was

everywhere, possessing, tasting—branding. In an instant, her body burned,

blood tingling. She clutched at his starched white shirt, grabbing the collar

to pull him closer.

Luc was everything she remembered—full of finesse, power, steel

covered in silk, insistent—and more. Never had a man‟s kiss alone made

her wet and aching, made her long to be closer to him in every way.

She ran her hands down his body, feeling every bulge of his

shoulders, every ripple of his chest. Her palm flitted down his six-pack—

and kept descending. Oh, so slowly, she dragged her hand over his

erection. He hissed in a shocked breath, breaking the kiss, and hardened

beneath her touch.

Smiling, she reached for his fly.

He groaned. “Alyssa, we—”

She palmed him again, squeezing his cock, then flicked the button of

his pants open. His zipper went down, a bare rasp in the otherwise quiet.

Then she ran her thumb over the sensitive crest.

“Dear God.” He sucked in a breath. “We shouldn‟t . . .”

She said nothing, but simply sank to her knees.

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B
EFORE 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.

“Alyssa,” he hissed.

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.

“You want this?” she whispered.

“Yes!” he bellowed, struggling for control . . . and failing. “Yes.”

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

“You‟re sure?”

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.

“Suck me,” he demanded, his voice low and harsh.

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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
. . .

“Hello?” a woman called from the dining room. “Anyone here?”

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—”

“See who it is,” he barked.

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