LUC paced the emergency room’s waiting area. Three long hours, and not a word. Over and over in his head, he saw Peter restrain Alyssa’s struggling form with his larger body, the promise of violence on his face. For the hundredth time, Luc chastised himself for treating her so badly and letting her walk out of the bedroom alone. No matter how angry she’d been, how crushed he’d been, he should have followed her until she was safe. He hardly needed Tyler’s glare to tell him that. Instead, Peter had gotten to her and—
Luc sank into an uncomfortable green chair and buried his head in his hands. God, what had he done? Because of the way he’d behaved, she’d run from him—and straight into Peter’s trap.
In the anxious din of the ER’s waiting room, the automatic doors
whoosh
ed open, and in walked three familiar figures.
“Deke.” Luc rose and accepted his cousin’s handshake and hug. “What are you doing here?”
“After I got your call, I figured I was coming tomorrow anyway. I thought you could use the support. Jack insisted on tagging along.”
“Thanks for coming.” Luc stuck his hand out to Jack. “Especially at three thirty in the morning.”
Jack shook it. “Alyssa is my friend, too.”
And probably a former lover. Luc couldn’t let that matter now. Jack was happily married. Alyssa . . . Luc knew she wanted nothing more to do with him.
Taking a deep breath, he turned to the third man, Kimber’s older brother Hunter. To say the soldier had never been a fan of Luc’s was a gross understatement.
“How are you, Hunter?” He stuck out his hand.
Hunter Edgington stared pointedly at Luc’s outstretched hand until he dropped it. “Fucked up another woman’s life, huh?”
Luc sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Hunter was right and had never been one to pull his punches.
Deke slapped Hunter on the back. “Come on, buddy. Now’s not the time.”
Mercifully, Hunter dropped the subject. “Who wants coffee?”
Jack was first with an “Amen to that.” Deke and Luc both accepted, and Hunter left them to their conversation.
“Any news out of the doctors yet?” Jack asked.
Luc shook his head.
“Tell me what happened.” Jack began to pace.
“This bastard who’d been stalking her, leaving her terrible notes, got her alone in her office. He attacked her. We don’t know if he succeeded in raping her, too.”
“Son of a bitch,” Deke spat.
“I hope they put him in County.” Jack smiled evilly. “If the boys down there find out he hurt their favorite entertainment, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Maybe that should have comforted Luc some, but it didn’t. He couldn’t shake a question that had been haunting him for hours.
“How long have you know Alyssa?” he asked Deke’s business partner and self-proclaimed Dominant.
Jack sighed as he clearly sifted through his memories. “About ten years. She started dancing at Sexy Sirens when it was called something else and owned by this bitch named Marquessa. You should have seen Alyssa. Even then, she could light up a room. I was still in the army and on leave when we met. I’d been helping a buddy track down the drug-dealing scum who’d been selling to his little brother in middle school. Apparently, he liked to drop his money on strippers. When Alyssa heard what I was up to, she tracked me down and volunteered to help. I knew she was good people then.”
Yeah, that sounded like something she would do, championing the underdog, helping where she could. Her life was far from perfect, but she still found ways and means to assist others. So damn admirable. Why hadn’t he focused on that, rather than on her profession and who else might be warming her bed?
Luc swallowed, wishing he didn’t have to find a way to get the next words out. “When we pulled this asshole off her, she was sobbing ‘not again.’ When was she raped previously?”
Jack recoiled. “Raped previously? Not in the last ten years. Alyssa and I are tight. She would have come to me, and even if she hadn’t, I would have found out. I know everyone down there. Someone would have spilled.”
Horror washed over Luc. “Ten years ago, she would have been, what? Eighteen? Nineteen?”
Jack grimaced. “Yeah.”
“Shit,” Deke muttered.
Someone had raped Alyssa as a teenager.
The scene with Peter, her in pain and helpless, played over and over in his head.
Goddamn it
.
Luc felt two inches tall. He’d treated her like dirt and judged her. All this time, he’d been thinking that she didn’t fit into his future and may not be good enough to play mother to “his” children . . . Truth was, he was no good for her.
Maybe Tyler had it right; none of this violence against her had materialized until he appeared. God knew, he hadn’t looked past her façade to really know the woman underneath until it was too late.
“Who’s family here?” the ER doctor, thirtysomething and harried looking, asked in a no-nonsense tone.
“No one,” Tyler answered. “She doesn’t have any family. I brought—”
“
We
brought her here.” Luc raced across the room and cut in.
Tyler shot him a hard look, then nodded. “We brought her in.”
Sadie, Jack, and Deke crowded around. The doctor barely glanced at the stripper’s brief silk robe and abundance of makeup.
“Ms. Devereaux suffered a mild concussion, multiple contusions, two cracked ribs, and a broken wrist.”
With every word out of the doctor’s mouth, Luc wanted to thrash Peter all over again. How did that rich little prick dare think he was entitled to hurt Alyssa?
Yet Luc wondered how he’d been different. He hadn’t hurt her physically, but he’d treated her as if her profession meant she had no heart, no feelings. He’d trampled all over her. Like Peter had. He was fucking slime.
“She went into shock in the ambulance,” the doctor continued. “But we’ve stabilized her. Nothing life threatening. She will fully recover with time. She’s sleeping now. We want to keep her overnight for observation. She’ll need a few days of bed rest.” He hesitated. “She’s refused a rape kit.”
“What?” If the rape kit would put Peter away, he wanted her to take it.
“She can’t do that,” Tyler put in.
The doctor cut a stare in his direction. “I tried to talk her into it. The vaginal area shows considerable signs of penetration and a cursory exam found traces of semen.”
Oh, shit!
Luc cleared his throat. “Could be mine.”
“You had unprotected sex with the victim?”
Luc didn’t look at Tyler; he knew the bouncer was ready to hit him. Instead, he just nodded. “About ten this morning and again around eleven thirty tonight, just before the attack.”
“That complicates things. Unless she starts talking, I can’t say whether she’s been raped.” The doctor raked a hand through mussed brown hair. “If she changes her mind about the kit, I’m guessing the police will want you to leave a sample so we can rule out your DNA and see if there are traces of the suspect’s.”
Luc didn’t hesitate. “If she does, I’ll do whatever I can to help nail this bastard.”
“Well, he’s got his own laundry list of injuries, including a broken nose. He won’t be hurting anyone for a while.”
Luc couldn’t feel much triumph. A broken nose? That wouldn’t keep Peter from coming after Alyssa again. Only putting him behind bars for a long while would. All those notes the bastard had left her before attacking her would hopefully help put him away for ten to twenty.
“Can I see her?” Luc asked.
The doctor sent him an apologetic stare. “We gave her a sedative, and she’s asleep. Before that, she refused all visitors.”
Of course. She preferred to suffer in silence. And why would she want to see him?
Tamping down the pain, he turned to Tyler and Sadie. “While she’s recovering, can you keep the club going? She’ll worry herself sick unless she knows it’s being cared for.”
“Of course,” said the well-endowed brunette.
Tyler nodded. “Part of my job description.”
“I’ll take care of Bonheur through Wednesday. She’ll likely be back on her feet by then.” He turned to Jack. “Can you make sure she stays safe for me?”
The Cajun frowned. “You make it sound as if you’re leaving.”
“I’m leaving her alone.”
“The hell you say! She needs you now.”
Luc laughed bitterly. “No. I’m the last thing she needs.” He spotted Kimber’s brother returning with a tray filled with coffees. “Ask him. He’ll tell you.”
Clapping his cousin on the back, Luc turned and spotted a triage nurse leaving her post to help a woman in labor. He sneaked in the door just before it closed, then wandered down the hall. Temporary rooms were set up in a circle all around the nurses’ station. A whiteboard in the middle of the room listed all the patients and their room numbers. Finding Alyssa’s room in the corner was easy enough. So was ducking in.
Inside, the thin drape had been drawn. He could see her outline, but nothing more. She didn’t want to see him, and he respected that, so he didn’t tear it away, as he yearned to. Damn hard. Luc wanted to see for himself that she was okay, unharmed. But she’d made her wishes clear. Now would be his only chance to say good-bye.
Behind the drape, he heard the beep of monitors, the pump of oxygen into her system. An IV stand abutted the wall, only partially concealed. He swallowed, wanting to see her, take her hand . . . something.
She wanted nothing to do with him, and it hurt so fucking bad.
Wishing she wasn’t asleep and would hear him, he sighed, his breath ruffling the ugly blue drape. “I’m so damn sorry about so many things. I—Around you, I turned into someone I didn’t know how to control, and you were right to dismiss me.” He grabbed the curtain, forcing himself to keep it in place, not to rush past it to her bedside and wake her, take her in his arms. “I’m sorry that my behavior drove you away, into Peter’s clutches. So sorry. You don’t know how close I am to falling completely in love with you. Clearly, it’s better for us all if I leave.”
The moment was upon him. One word; that was all he had to say.
Good-bye
. Then he could leave, let her rest easier and eventually get on with her life.
Luc couldn’t force the word out. Instead, he clenched his fists to hold in what felt suspiciously like tears, then left the hospital room for good.
Chapter Eleven
“
L
UC?”
He turned toward the familiar voice, swallowing back his annoyance. Emily. She approached him on sensible pumps, looking like something out of a Lands’ End catalog with crisp khaki pants, a smart white blouse, and a little red cardigan. The colors suited her pale complexion and dark hair. She was stylishly accessorized, the look modest, understated. When she smiled, the expression reached all the way to her hazel eyes. She really was perfect in so many ways.
The smile he sent in return felt more like a grimace as he waved her over.
Glancing at his watch, he was relieved to see the book signing and cooking demonstration would end in another ten minutes.
Doing his best to meet and greet, pose for pictures, and answer fans’ questions, he was conscious of Emily’s presence just beyond his left shoulder. He glanced back at her. Damn, she was wearing her purposeful look.
When he’d run out of books and time was more than up, he stood and walked to the portable kitchen area and grabbed the microphone. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I appreciate the support. Have a great evening.”
After a hearty round of applause, people began to file out. A reporter or two milled around, but store personnel escorted them out. Luc braced himself and turned toward Emily.
Everything inside him recoiled. She was lovely, cultured, educated, kind. She loved children, had broadly hinted that she’d welcome a marriage proposal, and wanted to start a family right away. Luc even had the ring in his pocket, a simple two-carat teardrop-shaped diamond—her favorite, according to her—on a thin gold band, just waiting for the right moment.
She was everything he should want. But he’d been waiting for that right moment for three weeks, and the ring was still tucked away in its box in his suit coat.
He sighed, then closed the distance between them to kiss her cheek.
“You look nice.” It wasn’t her fault that he was dying to see another woman in a sexy short skirt, garters, and a saucy attitude.
Damn! He’d never see
her
again, and Luc knew he needed to get on with his life. Today he’d turned thirty-six. Tonight was as good as any to start embracing his future. If he wanted to have children, he needed to try starting his family soon. It could be a years-long process, but Emily, twenty-eight and ready, would be supportive.
Luc felt guiltily relieved that having children with her wouldn’t require sex. She was lovely. And a wonderful person. He’d feel desire for her . . . someday. Maybe.
Emily’s smile widened. “You look nice, too. And now I must take you to dinner for your very happy birthday. Where should we go?”
Luc tried to muster enthusiasm for the evening. “What sounds good to you?”
Slowly, her smile fell. “Another headache? Have you been to the doctor yet?”
Since returning from Lafayette six weeks ago, he’d fabricated headaches to explain his lack of interest in their dates and his need to cut evenings short. He hated lying to her. Emily deserved better. Either he needed to actually commit to trying to build a future with her or walk away.
His heart voted for the latter. Logic asked him what the hell he’d do about tomorrow if he left Emily. Alyssa was gone, behind him. No matter how much he wished otherwise, this separation was her wish—and the wise choice he hadn’t had the fortitude to make on his own.
He pasted on a smile. “I’m fine.”
Emily frowned. “You’re not feeling depressed about your birthday, are you?”
Not in the way she meant, but it was a good excuse. “Perhaps a little.”