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There was no way he could stop himself from reaching out to tangle his fingers into her hair and bringing her mouth closer. Except when he did, he grabbed air. Alyssa had already strutted away, that golden body of hers burned into his brain.

The music boomed one final time as she artfully fell to the stage, her body sprawled with legs parted, knees bent, hands half covering her breasts, her back arched . . . as if she were ready for him to cover her, take her.

Luc took a step toward her. Then he forced himself to stop and breathe deep.

Self-destruction wasn’t his bag, and he wasn’t going to get caught up in the trap now.

Beside him, the beefy bouncer clapped wildly and whistled like a man possessed. “That was hot, boss lady. Damn!”

Alyssa stood and smiled, her arms falling to her sides, as if totally unaware or unconcerned that she bared her breasts to her employee and her guest chef.

She did this for a living,
he reminded himself. She displayed her body for strangers—and did who knew what else with them. Why should it matter to her who saw her tits?

“Thanks! I’ve been working on the routine for a while.”

“Toward the end there, if you need to fall at someone’s feet, I’ll volunteer.” Her bouncer winked.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She reached for the bolero jacket, thrust her arms into the capped sleeves, then covered her breasts with the lapels. Sort of. The garment had no front clasp, so it hung open, flashing cleavage and the generous swells of her breasts as she made her way down the stairs.

“Mr. Traverson, good to see you again.” She held out her hand to him.

She expected him to touch her in a businesslike fashion? Luc steeled himself against the electric current that buzzed through him anytime he touched this woman. But no amount of bracing diluted the jolt that shocked him when he took her hand.

“Ms. Devereaux. We need to talk. Is there someplace quieter? More . . .” Luc glanced over at the bouncer’s curious, intrusive stare. “Private?”

“Tyler.” She snapped her fingers. “Back to work. It’s four, right? Open the doors.” Then she turned her stare back to Luc. “Follow me.”

As if he could have resisted when she turned that gorgeous ass in his direction and pranced away . . . Impossible.

He followed her backstage, then down a hall that had been painted black. Red lights shined overhead, giving the back a Goth feel that contrasted with the public area’s warmth. Then they ducked into a room at the end. White. Soothing with black-and-white photos on the wall. Splashes of red color in silk flowers and a desk chair.

Alyssa held the door wide, then closed it behind him once he’d entered. He realized that none of the club’s other sounds could be heard. He cocked his head, listening to the crisp silence.

“Soundproof,” she confirmed, perching her hip on the edge of the desk in a relaxed pose that somehow managed to scream sex. “Hard as hell to be bookkeeping at two in the morning with the Pussycat Dolls blasting out your ears.”

That made sense, but had nothing to do with this meeting. “Listen, I—”

“Before we get down to business, can I ask your opinion of my number? I haven’t danced around a pole in two years. I’m out of practice.”

She hadn’t danced around a pole in two years? Wow . . . He didn’t frequent gentlemen’s clubs; he found nothing gentlemanly about them, so he had nothing to compare her to. But if she thought her performance was out of practice, Luc decided he’d likely have a heart attack if ever he saw Alyssa in what she considered to be prime form. “Why ask me?”

She frowned. “Other than Tyler, who likes anything I say or do, you were the only man watching. I need a male opinion on this. Did it work for you?”

And then some
. “Um . . . It was good.”

“Good.” Alyssa sighed. “I need it to be great. Damn! Tonight is Sexy Sirens’ fifth anniversary, and I promised to perform. I don’t really do it anymore. But I’ll try harder when I take the stage later. Thanks for the opinion.”

If she tried any harder, she’d incite instant orgasm in half the audience in the first thirty seconds.

“So how have you been?” Her smile lit up her whole face, the whole room. Hell, his whole body.

“Fine. Very busy. You?”

“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “Crazy busy! I had no idea the restaurant business was so tough. You’d know all about it, of course. But I’m still learning. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been looking forward to watching you in action.” Her smile was a tease in itself. “In the kitchen, of course.”

His body temperature went up again. If he didn’t leave soon, she would see action in the kitchen and anywhere else she would consent to let him fuck her. But how could he say this without upsetting her? He definitely owed her.

“I hear your cousin got married,” she commented.

Luc tried not to wince. “Yes. Deke and Kimber were married a couple of months ago.”

Alyssa paused, cocked her head, assessed him with those cool blue eyes. “You okay with that? I know you had a relationship with her, too.”

Yes, one that had ended with the near death of his greatest dream. He’d engaged in a wild ménage with Kimber and his cousin, knowing that she loved Deke. Still, Luc had hoped to marry her, that Deke would get her pregnant, and they would all live as a happy family. All too soon, they’d paired off and left him alone. Possibly his last chance to raise a child with even a drop of his blood walked out the door with them.

He hesitated, then hedged. “She’s still special to me.”

It wasn’t a lie, but not the complete truth, either. Kimber and Deke didn’t need anyone but each other, and Luc had only been in their way. He’d accepted that because, while he’d adored Kimber, he hadn’t loved her. He had, however, wanted the one thing they could have given him, wanted it so bad sometimes that yearning clawed a deep crater of longing out of his chest.

He wanted a child. And he couldn’t father one.

“You all right?” Alyssa asked. “Can I get you a drink?”

No. What he had to do was get out of here before he let his dick lead him to stupid acts, like forgetting the fact that he needed to find an acceptable woman who wanted a child as badly as he did. Alyssa . . . She was sexy, determined, all woman, giving and mind-blowing in the dark. But she wasn’t anyone’s ideal mother material. If he ended up going the adoption route, case agents would take one look at her and run screaming. Even if she wanted children now—and why would she?—he didn’t think she’d agree to dash to the nearest sperm bank or sit through rounds of in vitro fertilization. She’d want a man who could father his own children the normal way.

At thirty-five, Luc should be way beyond this blinding sort of adolescent urge for sex, the kind that obliterated all logical thought. Alyssa wasn’t going to help him obtain what he most wanted in life. Somehow, he had to get the news flash to his dick.

Hell, he’d never before wished he were impotent, rather than sterile. Here was a fun first.

“No, thanks. Alyssa, I can’t stay.”

“Right now? I’m sure you’re tired. No problem. I’ll give you a tour of the restaurant and kitchen tomorrow morning. It’s just a few blocks from here. I ordered all the food your assistant indicated and—”

“I meant this week. I can’t do it.”

“Another commitment?” Her sharp tone would have told him she was pissed off, even if her starchy expression didn’t.

Luc wanted to lie, but he was already bailing on her. Lying would add insult to injury, and she deserved the truth. “It’s what’s between us.”

“We had sex, and now you can’t cook for me? What, exactly, does one have to do with the other?”

Luc shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Shit, this wasn’t going well. “Look, I’m sorry for what I did to you—”

“You’re sorry for making me orgasm so many times I lost count? I’ve got to hear the reason for this.”

How the hell could she not get it?

Raking a stiff hand through his shoulder-length hair, he growled, “Damn it, I was in a frenzy. I plowed into you. I couldn’t possibly have been gentle or considerate. And I apologize. I’m sure I didn’t ask your permission before I . . .” God, he couldn’t even talk about having anal sex with her without getting hard as concrete again. “It just wouldn’t be a good idea if I stayed.”

Alyssa pulled the lapels of her little jacket together in a useless attempt to cover her breasts. All she did was provide better shots of cleavage. And give him a harder cock.

“Did I seem like I minded that night?”

He swallowed. “Don’t you understand? You probably begged me to stop. And I didn’t. I don’t remember hearing you. If I stay this week, I can’t guarantee that I won’t lose my head again. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass,” she assured him, her whisper shivering right down his spine.

“There’s someone else.” Sort of.

Three dates didn’t constitute a relationship. Looking at Alyssa’s lush features and centerfold body, Luc could not summon up a vision of Emily’s face to save his life. But he was going to marry her. Or someone like her. Alyssa simply wasn’t the kind of woman he could see willingly playing mommy when he finally found a way to become a dad.

“Kimber? Still having ménages with your cousin and his wife?”

No, and he’d never go down that path again, but admitting that to Alyssa would only make her more determined. “Does it matter?”

She shook her head. “Whoever she is, I hope she can understand that you’re here to do a job. I can put the past behind me and focus on work if you can.”

Luc’s hungry gaze skimmed down her body. “You haven’t touched me, and I’m already unfocused.”

He stormed across the room, grabbed her hand, and fitted it over his aching cock. Instantly, it was better—and worse. God, he wanted her to move on him, strip him bare, put his cock inside her mouth, her body.

Before he got carried away, he pulled her hand away. “You’re a very sexy woman, and I am not myself around you. I can’t stay.”

Alyssa drew in a deep breath, and her chest expanded. Hell, he didn’t need to see that. But he couldn’t walk away as she slipped off the edge of her desk and sidled closer. “First, for your concern to be valid, I’d have to say yes to sex with you. Today, I haven’t. Don’t assume I would tomorrow, either. Second,
you
came to
me
three months ago, remember? In exchange for hooking up with you and your cousin, you’d cook for me during opening week. Even though Deke left before things got hot, I lived up to my end of the bargain.”

“You more than lived up to your end. It’s one reason I can’t
not
think about you and sex in the same sentence.”

In an attempt to show his cousin Deke that his now-wife was the perfect woman for them, Luc had arranged a threesome with himself, his cousin, and Alyssa. It had backfired on Luc. Deke left before the party started, which Luc had expected. What he hadn’t anticipated was needing every sort of sex he could think of with the strip club owner—repeatedly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’ll send you someone else who’s totally qualified.”

“I’ve already publicized the fact you’ll be here. I have a year’s worth of work and my entire savings riding on this place. I’d rather not have this restaurant fail and force me to dance around a pole again for a living. You gave me your word, and I trusted you. Are you really going to bail on me?”

M
USIC 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.

“Thank you for coming tonight, y’all,” she breathed, still panting. “Your 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.

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!