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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.”

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 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.

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.

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 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 off-putting 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.”

Luc jolted at her touch, then relaxed. “I needed to live up to our bargain. You had every right to call me on it.”

“Actually, I’m sorry about that. I feel strongly about not forcing people 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.”

“Luc, I’m not a hothouse flower.”

“No,” he agreed immediately. “You’re far stronger than I suspected. But that doesn’t erase the fact I wasn’t gentle with you. I’m not proud of that night. I’m . . . sorry.”

“I liked it. I’m not sorry at all.” Her words came out in a passionate rush. “Don’t you dare be sorry, either.”

He didn’t comment. Instead, he seemed to mull her answer over. “What if Deke had stayed that night? Would you have regretted that?”

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.”