Chapter 1

 

“Him? After all the stories we’ve heard? You know that man’s picture is under the actual definition of trouble. Which would usually mean I’d do him, and my bad taste in men is legendary.”

Curious tourists eating one table over paused mid-conversation to glance toward Michelle. The male members of the group eyed her friend with lingering appreciation, cataloguing her dark riot of curls, beautiful brown skin and piercing eyes until Allegra’s unblinking stare shamed them back into minding their own business.

She shouldn’t have done this in public. In her haste to explain her “plan” to her uninhibited roommate, she’d forgotten that Michelle Toussaint was the kind of woman that no man could ignore, even when she was talking with her inside voice, which wasn’t currently the case.

Broaching the sensitive subject at lunch had been worth a shot, but deep down she’d known that even witnesses wouldn’t save her from Michelle’s vocal disapproval.

Still, she didn’t have to be so vehement about it.

Allegra pushed her plate away, half of the giant seafood po’boy she’d ordered left uneaten. “You’ve told me most of those stories, Chelle. So many that for a while I was thinking you had.”

“Had what? Done him? You know that was just a figure of speech, right?” Michelle held up her hands as if warding off the evil of the idea. “He’s got some pretty wrapping and I’m not immune to the view, but he’s also carrying a Kong-sized monkey of the King variety on his back, and I have enough problems.”

“You mean his sex thing?”

“I mean his sex thing,” Michelle repeated dryly, studying Allegra with amused resignation. “Why did you ask my opinion? You already knew what I was going to say about this, didn’t you?”

Allegra sipped her sweet tea with a small smirk. “How would I know that? It’s not like you’ve said the same thing every time he’s come up in conversation or anything.”

The he in question was Celestin Dias Rousseau. It was a mouthful of a name for the mouthwatering man who owned the small coffee shop across the street from their apartment. And the plan was all about Allegra getting him into bed.

It was more complicated and nuanced out than it sounded.

“Oh, I know that look,” Michelle said warily. “It’s the same one you always wore right before you’d take my well-meaning advice as a challenge and do something crazy, like jumping off a campus building into an inflatable pool filled with pudding.”

“It was only the second floor,” Allegra muttered. “And it wasn’t pudding, but I get your point.”

Michelle raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “The only point I’m making is that I know you.”

“You do. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” Allegra snagged a chip from Michelle’s plate before she could stop her. “It’s definitely the reason I left Houston. I wouldn’t do that just to cohabitate with any moody artist who doesn’t like to share her food and makes me sleep on the couch.”

“The couch is a daybed.” Michelle’s arm curved around her plate protectively when Allegra reached for another chip. “And I thought you moved here to escape the overbearing white bread convention you call a family.”

“That too.”

If anyone ever wondered why she’d gone out into the world craving adventure, why she’d made her living visiting and writing about exciting destinations and dangerous locales, they need look no further than the Jarod family album. It was a sad, thin little tome. Filled—not with summer vacations or hilarious antics—but a composed, perfectly put together group of people wearing the same placid smile. Exactly the same. Only the dates and clothing in the pictures changed. Never the Jarods.

Until she’d come home this last time, of course. Everything was different after that. So different, she’d started wishing for a return to the old state of repression within the first week of her rehabilitation.

It was as if none of them were sure what to do with their newly emerging emotions. Her mother could barely look at her without tearing up, and everyone spoke to and about her in those hushed tones reserved for terminal patients and funeral homes. It was like being the unwilling hostess at her own never-ending wake.

She could barely breathe under the weight of all that pity.

Michelle was the only one who took her full recovery for granted, calling her once a week to get a quick physical therapy update before turning the conversation to other things. Normal, ordinary things that had nothing to do with Allegra’s life being over. It was a balm to her soul.

She’d recognized a kindred spirit from that first day they’d moved into the same dorm room at UT. That they didn’t have much in common never mattered to either of them. All through college, they were so close daylight couldn’t separate the two. And after graduation, the connection refused to fade, no matter how many years or miles came between them.

So when Michelle mentioned her roommate, Stacy, was moving out to accept a better paying job in North Carolina, Allegra immediately offered herself as a replacement, thrilled for the chance to start again in a new city with her best friend. She needed to get away from her well-meaning family before she forgot how to live. Forgot how much fun it could be to get into trouble.

Rousseau was definitely trouble.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Michelle spoke into the silence. “Every morning since you moved here you’ve been wandering around our fair city, building up your endurance—as you should—before stopping for an iced coffee at Café Bwe.”

Allegra leaned her chin on her hand, willing to play along. “Right so far. Please continue.”

“The owner of said establishment gives you one free beverage and sets up an outside table so you don’t have to sit your limpy ass down on the curb, and you decide that not only does this negate his questionable history with women and turn him into a tragic hero instead of a horny dog, but you’d now like to break your record of avoiding men like the plague with a man who might carry it.”

“Cut it out.” She glared, but there wasn’t much heat to it. “You have an active social life, and you don’t see me letting anyone give you any lip about it either. And this isn’t about gratitude or romanticizing one nice gesture. This is about sex, and me wanting to have it with someone I’m actually attracted to.”

Which for her was kind of a first. She had no illusions that she was any kind of seducer of men. There was a reason all of her previous sexual partners had been friends who happened to be available and amenable at the right time. It wasn’t the stuff fantasies were made of, but there was something to be said for satisfying a natural urge without excessive drama or complications.

That makes you sound just like your parents.

If it did, then she was breaking out of the familial mold now with a vengeance. Her feelings for Rousseau were not remotely friendly or simple. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, he’d become something of an obsession for her, and it didn’t have anything to do with free coffee and a chair.

The first time she’d seen him had been after one of her morning walks—her favorite part of the day, despite her physical discomfort. Mornings had their own special rhythm in New Orleans, giving her a glimpse behind the glitter and beads to see the community that actually made the magic happen.

Workers unloaded trucks to replenish the bars and restaurants that had been drained dry the night before. Artists, psychics, and performers staked out their places on the sidewalk and in Jackson square, sharing breakfast and gossip as they readied themselves for the crowds that were their bread and butter. Thankfully, those crowds had finally started coming back after Katrina.

That particular morning, Allegra had pushed too hard. She’d ended her walk leaning heavily on her cane, her skin covered in sweat as if she’d run a marathon instead of strolling a few simple blocks. She hated her body in that moment. The weakness of it. She could see the damn apartment, and all she had to do was cross the narrow street and climb one steep flight of stairs.

It might as well have been Mount Everest.

She’d lowered herself carefully onto the curb in front of a shop that smelled of espresso beans and chocolate, thinking it was as good a place to live as any. All she needed was a cold drink and a pillow, and she’d pay whatever rate curbs were going for these days.

“You look thirsty. How about an iced coffee?”

The voice that licked down her spine made her think of late nights and hot, sweaty sex. Her mouth had gone dry and her hibernating libido had instantly gone on red alert despite her aches and pains. She was almost afraid to turn around, sure no man could live up to the expectations that voice engendered.

“Don’t lie to a dying woman.”

“I never lie about coffee.”

His laugh had her shielding her eyes with her hand so she could see him better in the bright morning light, and that’s when she got her first good look.

A warrior god. That was the image that popped into her head. In a flash, she’d mentally stripped him of his white pants and stained apron, redressing him in leather and a sword.

Some part of her knew the tall, muscular man wouldn’t appreciate being ogled, but there was no way he wasn’t used to it by now. How could anyone who looked like that not be at least a little cocky? Instead, his expression was hesitant. Kind, but almost shy. It was so unexpected that Allegra found herself giving him a second, closer look.

She managed the slightly less obvious inspection as he crouched down next to her and offered the drink. She introduced herself and gratefully accepted the coffee while studying the man.

His waist-length dreadlocks, facial hair and tattoos couldn’t hide his warm expression, heavy-lidded hazel eyes and full, sensual lips, though she sensed that was his intention. The ink and piercings said, “Keep your distance.” But that was the only thing about him that did.

He had the kind of charisma Allegra usually associated with fictional vampires. Graceful, broody and incredibly complicated. She wasn’t usually into angst, but she’d decided in that moment that she wouldn’t mind a bite or two. Not if it came from him.

Since vampires didn’t actually exist, she was forced to wonder what his real reasons were for attempting to bury his light under a bushel. It was a mystery. He was a challenge. And it wasn’t in her DNA to be able to resist either.

Rousseau didn’t seem to mind all the staring, but his expression became harder to read as he watched her drink and responded to her nervous small talk about the weather and her recent move to town. It was as if something about her had surprised and confused him, and he was afraid to look away in case she disappeared.

She was sure her expression mirrored his, since she felt the same. She was also positive he’d been planning to ask her for her number. Or ask her out to dinner. She could practically see the questions buzzing around in the air between them.

But then something had changed. No matter how many times she’d gone over it in her head she couldn’t figure out what had spooked him, but something definitely had. His eyes had flickered dangerously and he’d mumbled some excuse about customers and her needing to get out of the heat before he stood and turned abruptly, disappearing into his shop while she was left in shock on the curb.

The next day she’d almost been afraid to walk by the café, uncertain of her welcome, but there’d been a small table and chair beside the café with a neatly written placard that read, Reserved for Allegra.

Well, she couldn’t exactly turn that down, could she?

Unfortunately, the olive branch of a table was as far as she’d gotten with Rousseau. Six long weeks of shy hellos and free coffee, followed by the rapid disappearances that were really starting to tick her off.

She knew he watched her, could feel it like a physical caress each time, but he never took things to the next level. With her, anyway. And she…well, she had her own confidence issues that had stopped her from facing the problem head on.

She’d never been so irritated, caffeinated or sexually frustrated in her life. It was a volatile combination. Something had to give.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

Allegra blinked innocently. “If it was about why I shouldn’t follow through on my plan? Probably not.”

“Allegra.”

“Michelle,” she mimicked, a gentle smile on her lips. “I thought you agreed I needed to take some chances again. To jump off a few new cliffs, preferably not into pudding.”

“Baby cliffs, hon.” She sighed when Allegra raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry. It’s your decision, of course, and maybe if I hadn’t seen Stacy make such a fool of herself over him, I’d be all about this plan of yours. Unfortunately, I had a front row seat to the crazy show.”

Allegra knew the roommate’s story well. “You said she followed him around like a groupie?”

Like me?

“Groupie is such a tame word,” Michelle huffed. “I never would have guessed she had it in her, but that girl did everything short of throwing herself on his counter and spreading her legs. When she finally crossed that line as well, he took her up on her offer.” She bit her lip thoughtfully. “You know, he might not be the stud the gossips make him out to be. I mean, if he was, would she really leave the state less than a week after landing him?”

“She would for the job of her dreams.”

They’d both heard the talk. Allegra had gotten her fill of it over the last few weeks from the morning crowd of women who spoke in obnoxiously loud whispers about him as they walked by her table.

They would say he knew the right words to heal, that his touch could melt even the coldest heart. And sex with him? Sex with him was a blessing from Marie Laveau herself. According to them, he was the love doctor of the Big Easy.

Bone Daddy.

That’s what they called him. A walking, talking, well-hung pleasure factory who, with a few easy orgasms, could bring you whatever your heart desired. Your boyfriend would propose, your boss would give you a raise. Rumor had it he could even heal your scars, inside and out. If you could satisfy his lust.

With her, Rousseau was solicitous but shy, and always respectful. But if all these women were to be believed, she was in the minority. She’d think she wasn’t his type, except she swore that when he looked her way, she saw a desire in his eyes that matched her own.

Her feelings were too intense to be one-sided. They had to be.

“Those were her buzz words. Dream job. Once in a lifetime. Can’t turn it down.” Michelle rolled her eyes. “I know what they—” She cut herself off, eyes wide and worried. “Tell me this isn’t about what they say, Allegra. That you’re not starting to believe he can actually heal anything but abstinence.”

Allegra saw her gaze drop unconsciously to the cane currently hooked to the back of her chair and knew that if she actually had hackles, they’d be rising. “I’m not an idiot, Chelle. Or a child. I’m not looking for a cure, but I’m sick and tired of letting my problems hold me back. I used to be fearless.”

Her throat tightened and she blinked rapidly. “I know it’s a crazy idea. He’s got too many women waiting for their turn for me to have a chance at getting his attention anyway.”

Then why do you still want it so much?

Michelle reached for her hand. “Allegra, if you went after him none of those women would matter. I know you, remember? I don’t doubt your skill for a minute. But maybe we can try one of those baby cliffs to start? What if you let me introduce you to one of the teachers from my school? There are a few who are pretty damn easy on the eyes. That way you could have your fun and be safe at the same time. Trust me, danger is not as sexy as it sounds.”

“Is our girl in danger? Sounds exciting to me. What have you gotten yourself into now, darlin’?” The handsome blond with his signature sexy smile twirled an empty chair around and straddled it to sit between them before magically procuring two plates of cheesecake drizzled in praline sauce. He set both on the table with a flourish. “I stole these from that sweet little waitress with the big... personality. Your favorite, isn’t it, Mimi?”

“Oh yes. I love big personalities.” Michelle didn’t look like she appreciated the interruption. “I don’t know why I ever thought you’d listen to me, Allegra Jarod. You didn’t take my advice when I told you to stay away from this one.”

He mouthed, “This one,” and Allegra covered her mouth to hide her grin.

“Hi, Ben.”

“Afternoon, Legs. I’m glad that someone looks happy to see me.”

Benjamin Adair dipped his finger in the whipped topping on Michelle’s plate, popping it into his mouth with a moan. “It’s not as good as the chocolate caramel rolls at Café Bwe, but still decadent enough to tempt anyone with a working taste bud and a pulse.”

Michelle got to her feet and slid her purse over her shoulder in one swift, graceful motion. “I’ve got to get back to work, Allegra. Don’t do anything crazy until I get home. In other words, don’t listen to a word he says.”

Ben leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed on Michelle’s ass as he watched her walk away. When she disappeared, he let out a low whistle and turned back to Allegra. “She’s feistier than usual. You spill that tea, darlin’?”

“I gave her a hypothetical to test the waters. And I didn’t mention you or your offer to help at all. You know she’d lock me in the apartment for the foreseeable future if she knew.”

Ben laughed, but she could see the regret that lingered in his eyes. “Good call.”

Allegra was well aware that she was missing something when it came to her two friends. All Ben had told her was that he and Michelle had been close when they were children, brought together by their parents, but they’d grown up and grown apart. And all Michelle would say was that Ben was to be avoided at all costs.

But she knew Michelle too. If there were something truly wrong with the man, Michelle would never leave Allegra alone with him. She was too protective.

There was definitely a story there, but so far, no one was filling her in.

“I’m glad you kept our secret.” He pulled Michelle’s dessert closer, dipping his finger in the creamy concoction once more before holding it up to Allegra’s lips. “Can’t let the mean old art teacher ruin all our fun.”

She automatically opened her mouth, her tongue flicking the pad of his finger for a taste. His thick lashes fluttered in surprise and he smiled in approval. “Look at you, owning your inner temptress. Someone is practicing for tonight.”

“That someone is not me.” She rolled her eyes. “And condescending is not the new sexy, Benjamin. Since I’m hiding the fact that this plan was your idea, you need to start telling me some truths.”

“I’m an open book, Legs. A few of the pages might be written in invisible ink to protect the innocent, but still. Open.” He held his palms out, sending her an inviting wink.

Despite her loyalty and Michelle’s apparent disdain, she couldn’t help but like this man. She doubted there were that many people immune to his Southern charm and easy smile. There was something about him beyond all his outward appeal that made her trust him, and it had been there from the start. He’d shown up at her special table, sitting down to join her and she’d let him, feeling as if she’d known him for years.

He called her Legs. From anyone else she’d think it was intended as an insult. A way to point out the fact that she walked now with a distinctive limp. That beneath her sweat pants her left knee and thigh was riddled with scar tissue from multiple surgeries. But his green eyes had been full of mischief and free from judgment, and somehow, she’d known that Legs was short for Allegra, and her injuries hadn’t even occurred to him.

It was refreshing.

He also just so happened to be a treasure trove of information on her favorite subject.

Ben had known Rousseau for years, and was unusually willing to assuage her curiosity. Almost eager. She’d learned about Rousseau’s favorite color, his favorite music, the fact that his unique looks came from his Haitian father and a mother who was half Portuguese and half Irish. She’d learned that his father was a deadbeat dad, and Rousseau had grown up early because of it, skipping college to start his own business, sending his sister to school and looking out for his mother.

To hear Ben tell it, Celestin Rousseau was as angelic as his name. If it weren’t for his tomcatting reputation, she’d think he was too good to be true.

Don’t go forgetting about that reputation.

Ben tilted his head to get her attention. “I’m sensing a disturbance in the force from my lovely almost partner in crime. What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I’m having doubts.”

“For example?”

“Maybe I was wondering if you’re doing this for me just to tick off my best friend. For example.”

He winced. “Do I really come off like that much of an asshole?”

“No!” She covered his hand and squeezed apologetically. “I’m sorry, Ben. You’ve been wonderful about all of this and I’ve been a mess.”

He lowered his voice. “You’re wondering if it’s all one sided. What you’re feeling. He’s never made a move on you, and you’ve seen him with other women. Lots of other women.”

She gave him a sideways glare. “You’re kind of creepy when you do that.”

He shrugged. “I can’t help being observant, Legs. It’s a family gift. And I won’t deny that Rousseau is a complicated man, but all is not what it seems. I know for a fact that he wants you.”

“For an actual fact? Or a slightly exaggerated to make me feel better Ben-fact?”

“Ouch.” He clutched his chest. “An actual fact, Allegra. I’ve never seen him so out of sorts over a woman.”

“You say that, but you can’t explain why he won’t talk to me for longer than five minutes without looking for an escape route. If you tell me he’s shy after what I’ve seen, I’ll walk right now.”

He grimaced. “I’m not sure how to explain it without breaking a confidence. Let’s just say he’s convinced himself of something that isn’t true, and it’s our job to show him he’s wrong. He just needs the proper incentive.”

Ben had been dangling this particular carrot in front of her for weeks. That Rousseau actually wanted her. That she could have him if she took a risk. If she believed what he was telling her.

“Believe it,” he said, making her hand twitch in surprise.

She started to pull away but he twisted his fingers around to hold hers still, his thumb lightly caressing her knuckles in a soothing motion that was oddly effective. “I can get him there tonight and keep the wolves at bay, but after that you have to take the reins. Let him know, without a single doubt, that it’s him you want.”

As far as seductions went, it sounded underwhelmingly simple. Too simple.

“That’s all? I shamelessly embarrass myself and he falls into my arms?” Allegra leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “While the role reversal gets points from my inner feminist, I’m still not convinced it’s going to work. What if he says no?”

“He won’t. But if he does, then he’s a bigger fool than I ever imagined and I’ll be more than happy to be the vessel upon which you relieve all of your pent-up frustrations.”

“Big of you.”

She tried for an authentic smile, but she couldn’t manage it. Where was the nerve she’d always been famous for? The stuff of legends, Michelle had once called her. No challenge was too dangerous, no mountain too steep.

That’s who she used to be before she’d taken one risk too many.

Her feelings for Rousseau made her ache for the old Allegra. The one who’d never compare herself to the flawless women she’d seen clinging to him each night when he closed the coffee shop and find herself lacking.

Now there was a new voice inside her head that—instead of telling her to leap—begged her to walk away before it was too late. That a skinny girl with scars and a limp would never hold his interest. Hell, even if she was whole, he would still be Rousseau. The man who did not stick around for seconds.

Ben tsked as if reading her thoughts again. “You are beautiful, body and soul, Allegra. Never doubt it. All strawberry blonde curls, delicate freckles and determination. He has a penchant for freckles, you know. He’ll want to lick every single one.” He leaned in closer. “Your eyes alone would make him fall in love with you. So big and blue and a little lost. They’ll turn him inside out with the need to protect you and make you smile.”

Allegra glared. “I’ll admit to having a temporary case of insecurity, Adair, but I’m not broken. Not lost or fragile. If that’s what he wants...”

Ben laid his hand over hers. “He wants you, Legs. Everything that you are is exactly what he needs. And I’m going to give you to him.”

“But not for free.” When he’d first mentioned his price for helping her, she’d thought he was joking. Teasing her about wanting to be included in the seduction. But on the contrary, he’d been kind of insistent about it.

“Not for free,” he agreed in a low voice that made her shiver in spite of herself.

Allegra couldn’t deny that she found him attractive, but three wasn’t the number she usually thought of when she imagined being with Rousseau.

Please. Like you’ve never fantasized about two gorgeous men focused entirely on your pleasure. And sometimes each other’s. Don’t lie.

She wasn’t going to lie. But as far as actually experiencing it? A threesome was just one of those adventures she’d never sought out until now.

He has.

Ben hadn’t admitted anything directly, but from a few of their conversations, Allegra had a feeling it wouldn’t be the first time the two friends had shared a woman. What if Rousseau actually took him up on it? What if that was exactly why he’d been holding back? Could she really go through with it?

What would Michelle think?

She bit down hard on her lip. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“Bah.” His smile was devilish. “Good ideas are boring.”

Allegra shook her head and pushed her chair away from the table. Incorrigible was the perfect word for Ben. “On that note, I should head back to the apartment. If I’m actually going to do this, I need a long soak in the tub. No man wants a woman who creaks when she walks.”

Ben dug into the cheesecake in front of him. “He will if you do it, Legs. I’m telling you, darlin’, you have to trust me on this. And don’t be late.”

She dropped a tip on the table, grabbed her cane and walked away, mumbling under her breath. “Definitely shouldn’t be late. Wouldn’t want to miss my biggest crash and burn of all time.”