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Less than ten minutes left for Luc to keep poking his head out of the kitchen, tracking her down, and murmuring concerned questions about her well-being. His caring was going to be the death of her heart, and if he kept pushing . . . Alyssa didn’t know what she would do.

She needed a few minutes to herself. Then she could face him again, armor in place. She hoped.

Closing the door to her office, she flipped on the light and exhaled. Luc just overwhelmed her. Everything about him was so . . . intense, demanding. He had a gentle side; she’d seen it. But something was riding him. He was pushing hard, but for what she didn’t understand.

Sighing, she made her way to her new desk. If Bonheur did well, she’d move all her bookkeeping over here, her laptop, her files. She’d elevate one of the dependable dancers like Sadie to manager so she could spend more time here, with her happiness. She’d worked hard for success, to change her life. The thought of never having to take her clothes off in public again was deeply satisfying. And if she succeeded, she could say she’d done it on her own.

For a moment, Alyssa wondered what her mother would have thought of her accomplishments. Then realized that she would have lived in denial about Sexy Sirens and the stripping . . . and everything that had come before it. Good ol’ Trisha had always had that Beverly Hills housewife knack for burying her head in the sand, especially if confronted with anything tawdry before her ten a.m. mimosa.

And it didn’t matter. Her mom was gone, and her future was on track . . . mostly. Luc aside, Bonheur had done a great business this evening. It was a promising start.

Hope twisted inside her as she pulled her chair away from her desk, glanced down—and screamed.

W
HORE. The word jumped out at her in big red letters on a stark white page stabbed into the seat of her leather office chair.
Shit!

More words leapt off the page, swimming into her vision. Trembling, she leaned in, careful not to touch anything, and read:

She shook. The sicko behind this meant business. No more pushing that frightening fact aside. This person was also eerily well informed about her relationship with Luc. A scorned woman didn’t usually use these scare tactics. So, if the culprit wasn’t a jealous female . . . who would do this to her? And why?

A moment later, Luc rushed in, took one look at her face, and grabbed her shoulders. “What is it?”

She pointed down to the chair. His stare followed. A moment later, his expletives filled the room, and she shuddered. Violence suffocated the air in the small, windowless space. Someone had sneaked into her office this evening to threaten her. For the third time in as many days. Luc looked ready to kill.

“We’ve got to get to the bottom of this. Whoever is responsible is getting more sadistic and brazen.”

Agreed. “I’ll call Remy.”

Luc scowled. “Is he doing anything to stop this creep? Making any headway in the investigation?”

“They don’t even have the results from their investigation of my car yet, so . . .”

With another expletive, he looked back at the empty doorway. “What about Tyler?”

“He doesn’t have any theories, either.”

“No. I mean, have you thought that, maybe, he might be behind this?”

What?
She’d hired Tyler to bounce people out of the club and protect her while she was there. He’d always gone above and beyond the call of duty, hovering overprotectively, putting off a possessive boyfriend vibe. It had worked, too. Since Tyler had come on board a few months ago, the incidences of walking into her office or bedroom at the club and being surprised by a naked man or a would-be rapist had decreased to almost nil.

“Tyler wouldn’t do this.”

“Who else would be this jealous of our relationship?”

In Luc’s mind, were they having a relationship or just fucking?

Let’s see . . . He’s a famous chef, and, tender care last night aside, you’re basically a whore to him. What do you think
?

“Any number of people could have done this,” she pointed out. “Like Primpton. You’ve seen what a head case he is. Or Peter. I heard he asked about me at the club last night and was pissed when he learned I hadn’t come. Apparently he demanded that someone get me down there ASAP.”

“Did you see either of them here tonight?”

She shook her head. “But I didn’t see everyone who came. Or it could be someone I’ve never dealt with, who’s just blended in to the club and made up some sick fantasy in his head that I belong to him. It hasn’t happened to me, but I’ve talked to others in the business who say it happens.”

“I think we should rule out the more obvious suspects first.” Luc swallowed, a fierce, determined expression tightening his face. “I swear if I get my hands on the asshole doing this to you, the police will be lucky if there’s enough left of him to identify by dental re cords.”

Alyssa stared. Luc was that outraged on her behalf? Granted, he wouldn’t like to see any woman threatened, but . . .

“This is crappy, but he hasn’t actually done anything but threaten so far. Hopefully, he never does.”

Luc’s mouth pursed, and he sent her a grim stare. “I wouldn’t bet on that. He’s coming for you. Soon. Call Remy. He needs to make this a priority.”

Tyler skidded to a halt in the doorway. “Sorry. I was in the can.” His gaze bounced back and forth between the two of them. “What the fuck is going on?”

Was it even possible Tyler had it in for her because she’d refused to sleep with him? Was he weirdly obsessed?

Alyssa dismissed the thought almost instantly. He’d done nothing but help her, see to her safety. He’d had a million opportunities to be alone with her and he’d done nothing to hurt or endanger her.

“See for yourself,” she finally said to her bouncer, then stepped away from the chair. She’d watch his expression, see if he looked surprised . . . or menacing.

He rounded the desk, looking slightly uncomfortable and out of place in a white dress shirt partially unbuttoned and a loose burgundy tie. He’d ditched his suit coat long ago in deference to the heat.

Tyler peered into the chair, stiffening when he saw the note. He scooted closer to read it, then swore profusely. “I’m going to kill this son of a bitch if I get my hands on him.”

“You and Luc both. Great. You’ll both go to prison for vigilante murder and leave me alone to face the next scum bucket.”

Her chef and her bouncer looked at each other, clearly hard-pressed to believe they’d agreed on anything.

“Get Remy on the phone,” Tyler demanded. “I want to talk to that lazy Cajun.”

“Does he always fail to do his job?” Luc asked.

Alyssa answered before Tyler could. “He’s not used to this much trouble from me. He’s big into stopping drugs, gangs, and vandals. People he can pound. He’s not so great with investigating.”

“I’m going to fix it,” Luc declared, reaching for the cell phone in his pocket as he headed for the office door.

“Who are you calling?” she asked after him.

He didn’t answer.

Muttering under her breath about difficult men, she followed.

“Where are you going?” Tyler demanded of her.

Apparently interested in the answer, Luc turned and stared, blocking the doorway.

The testosterone overload in the little room could seriously go to her head. She could bottle it and women everywhere would pay oodles to feel this ridiculously feminine.

Shaking off the thought, she peered around Luc, down the shadowed hallway, frustrated at the lack of view. “I need to say good-bye to the last of my guests, see them to the door, thank them for coming.”

“I’ll do it.” Luc’s offer was more like a demand. “Stay here and call Remy.”

“They’re
my
guests!”

“They ate
my
food. I’m not playing at semantics when your safety is on the line.” Then he turned to Tyler and threw a mean glare the bouncer’s way. “Keep her here and guard her. I swear to God if you ruffle a hair on her head, I will split your skull in two and flambé your brain while your heart is still beating.”

Tyler grunted. “Notice how none of this shit happened to Alyssa until
you
showed up? Everything was fairly peaceful before you leapt into her life and fucked it all up.”

“You get too jealous? Can’t stand to see me with her?” Luc challenged.

Oh, dear God. “Can you two refrain from beating the crap out of each other for the next ten minutes? Let’s get the doors closed and locked. When the parking lot is empty, you can go out there and have your pissing match.”

Luc’s gaze touched her; then he glared darkly at Tyler. “I’ll be back.”

When he’d gone, Tyler’s disapproval reverberated through the resulting tense silence. “I don’t get it. If you push him out of the fucking door, the threats go away.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

He shook his head. “Probably. But you let him stay. In your house. In your fucking bed! I’ve only worked for you a few months, but it’s not like you to start a fling or wear your heart on your sleeve. Do you . . . love him?”

The question blindsided her. When had Tyler ever really talked about feelings? Almost never, at least before Luc came to town. Was he actually jealous?

Alyssa hesitated. She thought of lying. But if he wanted to hurt her, punish her, why hadn’t he done it already?

Finally, she forced herself to look him right in the eye and whisper, “Yes.”

LUC plastered on his most winning smile as he helped the last of Bonheur’s patrons out the door. He nodded, smiled, signed autographs, inching them ever closer to the exit. Finally, at just past eleven, he shut them out and locked up, then palmed his phone.

Without hesitating, he dialed his cousin’s number. Deke picked up on the first ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something is?”

Deke snorted. “You’d never call this late if everything was great.”

Good point. Nothing was great right now.

Luc sighed. “Whoever broke into Alyssa’s club has threatened her—more than once. Tonight, he broke into Bonheur and threatened her again. The locals seem either incapable or unwilling to get to the bottom of this. I need your help.”

“I’m leaving on an assignment day after tomorrow. I’ll stop in tomorrow with Jack, since I have to confer with him now that he’s back. I’ll see if I can bring Kimber’s brother with me.”

“Which one?” Luc swore under his breath. Neither had approved of his brief relationship with their sister and his cousin—and made no effort to hide it.

“Hunter.”

Luc swore again. Logan, the younger, was a mean bastard with a temper a mile wide, but he could be reasoned with . . . eventually. Hunter was cold, calculating. Crafty. And as communicative as a brick wall. There would be no talking him out of his dislike.

“Jack and I are trying to convince Hunter to leave the navy. We could use someone like him on our team.”

“What can he do here? I need someone able to investigate who’s behind these threats.”

“Hunter is one of the best. Trust me. You don’t have to like each other, just know he’s going to solve the issue.”

From everything he’d heard, when Hunter was on a mission, he was relentless and cagey. “Whatever keeps Alyssa safe.”

“We’ll be there before noon so you can brief us.”

Luc disconnected the call. Alyssa would not like this; Deke, Jack, and Hunter would insist on controlling her surroundings and restricting her movements, but Luc wanted her safe. Period.

When he returned to the little office, Tyler was reaming Remy a new asshole on the phone. Luc almost liked him for it.

Alyssa looked up at his return. “Make him release me.”

She held up a wrist shackled to a desk drawer by handcuffs.

Luc turned to Tyler. “You carry those on you?”

The bouncer smiled. “She was going to ditch out and say good night to her guests, then head to Sexy Sirens.”

“Like hell!” Luc exploded. Did she have no concept of the fact that if this sick bastard got his hands on her, he’d likely rape her at best, or perhaps torture and kill her?

“I was going to take Tyler, at least until he turned traitor on me. But I have to get to the club. Sadie called and one of the girls showed up stoned. No one can fire her but me. Besides, it’s Saturday night, our busiest night of the week. The girls can handle things for one night, but not two in a row.”

Luc saw her point, but her business wasn’t as urgent as her safety. “The only place we know this freak hasn’t invaded is your house. You need to be there. Call the girl who’s using and fire her over the phone. Tyler can head over there, be your eyes and ears, but you’re not putting yourself in danger.”