behavior. Deke clearly had something weighing on his mind, far beyond
petty jealousy for a woman who wasn‟t even his.
“It will pass. What did you want to talk about?”
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?”
“Yeah, Edgington is a tough old bastard.” Deke took a long drag on his
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?”
“Kimber‟s brothers are fine. We just thought we owed them—Damn it.”
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.
“Kimber is six weeks‟ pregnant.”
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“
W
HAT‟S wrong?” Alyssa asked as Luc sped through the night, toward
her house.
Three a.m. wasn‟t the best time for a heart-to-heart, but he exuded a
fuck-off vibe like she‟d never felt from him before. Something grim rolled off
him in choking waves, and though she knew he wouldn‟t welcome the
conversation, she felt his pain and couldn‟t remain quiet.
“Nothing.” He bit out the word.
“So you always run red lights for the hell of it?”
Luc‟s body tensed. “Shit. Sorry. I wasn‟t paying attention.”
“Did He-Man say something to upset you?”
His hands tensed on the wheel. “Deke is still looking at your security
system. He‟ll call in a few when he‟s done.”
A non-answer. Luc was good at evasion. Then again, maybe this had
nothing to do with his cousin.
“Look, if your foul mood has anything to do with what happened in the
kitchen earlier—”
“It‟s over, it‟s done, and it‟s not happening again.”
Like hell
. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I gotta tell you, Chef, I don‟t think your new girlfriend is keeping you satisfied.”
“Keep her out of this.”
“If there‟s one thing I know, it‟s men. And if you were happy, today
wouldn‟t have happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Something
almost
did.”
Luc was quiet for long seconds. Alyssa cursed under her breath. She‟d
pushed too hard. Maybe tomorrow would be a better time to talk.
“We haven‟t been seeing each other long. We haven‟t . . . Sex isn‟t the
point of the relationship.”
Translation: He hadn‟t slept with this woman. As sexual as Luc was,
seriously? Alyssa was happier about that than she should have been.
“What? You two play Scrabble together?”
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“Just drop it,” he growled.
For now
. “All right. Thank you for helping me with Primpton today. I
didn‟t get a chance to tell you how much I appreciate you defending me.”
“He‟s a disingenuous prick trying to stir up trouble to either elevate
himself or his bullshit cause. I would have defended anyone he trashed.”
Maybe that was true. But if Luc had nothing but contempt for her, he
wouldn‟t bother. He must have some other feelings for her. She just had to
figure out what and how to grow them.
“Which is part of the reason you attract me,” she said softly. “You have
a good heart.”
“Alyssa—”
“Yeah, I know. I was a good fuck, and now you don‟t want to talk about
it.”
Damn it, she should have been subtler. She had to keep control of her
emotions and use her head, or he would bolt.
Silent minutes slid by again; then he surprised her by asking, “What
happened to your mom?”
“Who told—?” She sighed. “Fucking Tyler. He doesn‟t know when to
shut up.”
“Two weeks isn‟t long to grieve.”
Alyssa hesitated. Answer him and open up a potential door of pain?
Shut him out and end the rapport and another chance to show him that she
was a real woman under the garters?
“We weren‟t close. Her absence doesn‟t alter my day-to-day life. She
was my blood, and I know I should feel like part of me is missing . . . and in
a way, I guess I do. When I first heard, I went through the shock and denial.
Anger consumed me for a few days. Now I just feel . . . numb.”
His gaze softened. “You‟re still processing.”
“I guess. I‟ve never really lost anyone before.” She wrapped her arms
around her middle.
When she thought of her mother‟s death, a tight emptiness cramped
her gut. But she couldn‟t manage to cry. Maybe too many years had gone
by. Maybe she was still too angry.
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“Allergic reaction,” she murmured. “My mother was violently allergic to
peanuts. Somehow a trace of them made it into her food and . . . she didn‟t
get medication in time.”
“I‟m sorry.” He reached across the distance separating them and
grabbed her hand.
She squeezed it. Now that she was talking about her mother, it wasn‟t
that
hard. “I think what bothers me the most is knowing that, because she‟s gone, we can‟t resolve what was wrong between us. It can never be fixed.”
“And you regret the time you spent apart?”
Big, tough question. “Yes and no. I wish things could have been
different, but they couldn‟t.”
Luc released her hand to focus on driving again, and she felt the
withdrawal of his touch like a pang. Why did she crave this man who
wanted her far more than he liked her? And way, way more than he
respected her?
“I know it‟s none of my business, but did she . . . disapprove of your
career?”
Alyssa sent him a bitter laugh. “Dancing around a pole isn‟t a career;
it‟s a way to make ends meet. And no. She didn‟t know. I appreciate you
listening, but there‟s nothing you can do to change the fact we‟ll never have
the chance to speak again.”
“Is your mom one of the reasons you help the other dancers improve
their lives?”
“No. I improved myself for me and me alone. I don‟t give a shit what
other people think. But if these girls have the drive, I want them to better
their own situations because they want more for themselves. They‟ll need
the fortitude to manage a grueling schedule.”
Luc nodded. “Sounds like eighteen-hour days.”
“Often.”
He sent her a measuring stare. “But you did it—more than once.”
“As I said, I‟m a business owner. And I have ambitions.”
Alyssa saw the moment he understood.
“That‟s what Bonheur is about. You want . . . what? Normalcy?
Respect?”
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Luc was getting uncomfortably close to the truth, and it would probably
make him laugh. Likely he thought her chances for respectability had died
when Clinton was still president.
“It‟s just a restaurant,” she protested weakly.
“No. Bonheur is
your
happiness.”
She swallowed. He‟d guessed that quickly, but she was afraid to admit
he was right aloud. Would he laugh? What if the restaurant failed and she
had to continue dancing? What happened when she got too old for even
that?
“I‟m not ashamed of myself,” she snapped.
He understood her, but not completely—and she couldn‟t allow him to.
She wanted to feel his body against hers, his heart beating with hers. She
wanted his love, and yes, his respect. He could be as sexually demanding
as he wanted, but he had no right to expect her to just hand him her soul
on a silver platter. He was probing into a past she
never
discussed. With
anyone. Blabbing about it wasn‟t going to change a damn thing. And who
needed the pain of dredging it up when it did no good?
Luc turned to her, his expression startlingly solemn. “I‟m sorry for your
loss. I hope you find the happiness you deserve.”
WHEN they reached the house, Alyssa hopped from the car before he
could get her door or say a word. She was hiding something. Luc was
beginning to understand her . . . yet there was a whole chunk of her he
didn‟t grasp at all. It shouldn‟t matter. He wasn‟t staying, and he couldn‟t
again be her lover—even temporarily.
Then why did he feel a driving urge to figure her out?
The pain. That note in her voice, the tightening of her sultry features.
The past, her mother—something beyond normal grief—hurt her. Pride hit
a note in there, too. Despite her pole-dancing ways, she‟d taken the time to
thoroughly educate herself. She helped others with the drive to do the
same.
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What the fuck did it say about him that, in this moment, he wanted to
slay her proverbial dragons for her?
Luc stormed in the house, just a few steps behind her. The
conversation should be done . . . but he wasn‟t ready to end it yet. He had
more to decipher.
But the phone in his pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out with a curse.
Deke.
He pressed the talk button. “Talk to me.”
“It ain‟t good, man. Sophisticated shit. Someone who knew a thing or
ten about security systems tampered with the sensors in her upstairs
windows, then rigged the control panel to automatically bypass that zone.”
So the culprit wasn‟t a drunk frat boy or a prankster. “Shit.”
“I‟ve fixed it again and put a trigger on it. If anyone so much as
breathes on the device, it will sound an alarm. When Jack gets back, I‟ll
have him look at it, too, see if there‟s anything else we can do to keep this
place tight.”
“Thanks.”
“Keep a close eye on Alyssa. Someone wanted to get to her badly
enough to screw with a top-notch security system. That‟s expertise or a
shitload of money to buy the expertise. Makes me wonder just how hard
this prick is for her.”
Luc wondered the same thing and cursed.
“I‟ll stay close to her, especially until Jack returns.” Wouldn‟t that do
wonders for his restraint? But he couldn‟t worry about that now when
Alyssa‟s safety might be in jeopardy.
“Need some hardware?”
Guns weren‟t his favorite, but Deke had made sure he was efficient
and accurate. Luc wasn‟t registered to carry in Louisiana, but the situation
was too serious to worry about technicalities.
“That‟s probably a wise idea.”
“Give me a day or so. I‟ll be back with everything you need.”
“I appreciate it.”
Deke hesitated. “I‟d do anything for you, man.”
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Except allow him to play daddy to this coming baby. Not that Luc
should expect it. Or deserved it after the way he‟d manipulated Kimber and
his cousin.
“Same here,” he said finally.
“You okay with the baby and everything?”
No. The news of Deke‟s pending fatherhood had nearly staggered him
to his knees, left him unable to breathe. Deke now had everything Luc had
ever wanted. Kimber and his cousin had barely tried to conceive and . . .
Luc sighed. He was thrilled for them. For himself, he despaired.
And he didn‟t want to talk about it again. Think about it, even. His own
failure as a man was sharp enough without the rehash.
This week he couldn‟t do a damn thing to move closer to his dream.
Until he returned home, he had to focus on his promise to Alyssa and now
on keeping her safe.
At the top of his list had to be figuring out who her stalker was. His
best suspects were Primpton, a nut job if he‟d ever seen one. Or Peter, the
frat boy who had money and apparently hadn‟t learned the meaning of the
word “no.”
But what about Tyler? Would the bouncer manufacture terror so that
Alyssa felt it necessary to be closer to him? He was shifty enough, but after
tonight‟s display at the club, Luc couldn‟t see why he‟d have to. Tyler could
touch her any way, anytime, he wanted.
Finally, Luc answered Deke the only way he could. “You deserve to be
happy. I‟m thrilled for you both.”
“Maybe you should . . . get tested again. It‟s been a while, right?”
Years, but nothing would change the fact he had a ridiculously low
sperm count. Enduring the humiliation of jacking off into a plastic tube
again made no sense. “There are other ways. I‟ve read recently about a
surgery that extracts sperm. I‟m also looking into adoption. Or maybe I‟ll