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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!
    Refusing to watch a second longer, Luc cursed and swallowed a bitter truth. He’d been suckered. The night he’d spent with Alyssa, she’d sworn she hadn’t let a man in her bed or her pussy for nearly two years. At the time, he’d believed her. She had been incredibly tight.
    Faced with this foaming-at-the-mouth crowd, he didn’t see how it was possible that her bed had been empty for even two days.
    It didn’t matter if she slept with her bouncer, all of her customers, and most of Louisiana’s male population. He had made an agreement with her, and he would honor it. Furthermore, he’d keep his hands off of her for the week, no matter how alluring she was. He had a future—God willing, a wife and a child someday soon—to think about.

    THREE in the morning. With the doors to the club shut and the dancers and waitstaff cleared out, she and Luc were alone. Finally.
    She took a moment to savor the fact that, if all went well, she’d performed her last pole dance. Never again would she fill her belly by exposing her body. She’d done it to survive for the past fourteen years. The restaurant represented her future, her path to a better life. She’d work hard for a successful opening just to avoid showing complete strangers her tits again. Luc was a big part of her recipe for success. Thank God she’d convinced him to stay.
    For her restaurant’s sake—and her own.
    Beside her, he stood tall, and so tense she could have bounced a quarter off him. Alyssa smiled. The scrumptious, skittish chef had no idea what was about to hit him.
    “You sure you want to tour the restaurant now?” she asked.
    He nodded. “Seeing your setup will allow me to plan stations, feel the flow of the food. Tomorrow I need to meet your staff. I’ve spoken on the phone with your sous and pastry chefs, as well as your assistant manager. They’ve all completed the training I sent along. We have the week’s menu set. You said someone purchased the quantities of supplies I requested?”
    Alyssa nodded and cast him a saucy glance. “You have expensive taste, Mr. Traverson.”
    “You’ll make your money back, Ms. Devereaux.”
    Of course he’d make that promise. He wanted to be sure he didn’t owe her a damn thing when he walked out that door. And she