Delicious (21 page)

Though he shouldn‟t, Luc reveled in the feel of their heartbeats chugging

against each other, the lax, trusting drape of her body over his. He brushed

a hand up and down her damp back, soothing.

“You okay, sugar?”

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Shayla Black

Her head snapped up, and she rolled off him to sit at the edge of the

bed. “Fine.”

She sounded more exhausted and confused, and he couldn‟t quite

forget that the last words out of her mouth before he‟d seduced her were to

end whatever was happening between them.

Fat chance, especially now. Luc wasn‟t done with her. She wasn‟t out

of his system. That sneaky vision of his fantasy future proved it. If anything,

she was burrowed deeper, telling him that he‟d have to work harder to get

over her in three days. Already, his mind turned with ideas. He just prayed

they worked.

INSIDE Bonheur, the kitchen staff bustled with the end of the dinner

service. All evening, Alyssa had walked every square inch of the dining

room and patio to ensure everything was perfect, her guests satisfied. She

glanced at her watch. Less than ten minutes before the doors closed on her

first real—and very successful—night of business.

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

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Shayla Black

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.

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Shayla Black

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:

You’re fornicating with your chef. With this blade, I will ensure that

you never tempt a man again.

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?”

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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?”

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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.

But who else knows for certain that you’re having sex with Luc?

“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.

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Shayla Black

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?

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Shayla Black

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