Chapter 2

 

The club was bursting with noise and heat, crowded with willing bodies and a palpable anticipation that was as familiar as it was unwelcome.

Rousseau lifted the warm, watered-down soda to his lips and grimaced. What had he expected when he’d let Ben talk him into leaving the loft? He didn’t live in a city with seasonal tourism. Even in September, the weekends brought revelers to the Big Easy. He hated all of it. The noise. The expectations and desires that buzzed around him like flies. At least at home he’d be able to do the paperwork for the café. Finally get through that book he’d been reading.

Your ennui is unbearable. It’s also a lie. You want to be home so you can watch that sweet piece through your window with your hand down your pants. Maybe the Toussaint girl will be massaging her leg again. I did enjoy that. Or maybe she’ll be alone, walking around in nothing but those tiny pink panties with all that lace in the front. I’d love to tear those off with my teeth and stick my tongue—

“Shut. Up.”

“Talking to yourself again?” Ben’s knowing grin set Rousseau’s teeth on edge. Bastard. He knew better than anyone how much he disliked these high traffic bars in the Quarter.

Places like this brought out something inside him he literally couldn’t control. Places like this made him realize he’d never be able to have a normal relationship. A normal life. How could he when he wasn’t sure if he’d wake up surrounded by strangers and memories that would make a scoundrel blush?

Memories that belonged to someone else.

“You said you needed to talk, Ben. We could have done that at my apartment, so why are we here?”

Ben took a long pull off his beer bottle, the condensation dripping down his arm as he tipped it back in obvious enjoyment. “Man, I needed that.”

Rousseau’s mouth watered, but he didn’t trust himself with alcohol anymore. He had to stay alert.

Yes, be vigilant or you might actually enjoy yourself.

“Relax, man.” His friend set the bottle down and leaned back against the booth. “It’s dark and crowded and exactly the kind of place a guy can disappear in. Plus, we’re hidden away at this corner table. We can see the whole room from here, but no one is looking at us.”

“Again, why are we here?”

Ben took a breath. “I need to talk to you about Allegra.”

He’d known this was coming eventually. How many days had he looked up from the line of women ordering coffee to find her sitting at the table he’d put outside for her, laughing at something Ben was saying? Too damn many.

You wanted her where you could see her. Did you think no one else would be looking?

“You thinking of staking a claim on Michelle Toussaint’s new roommate?”

After what happened with the last one, she still glared at Rousseau every time she walked by the café.

“Are you looking for trouble, Ben?”

“Always.” Ben laughed. “And a man would be a fool not to claim Allegra Jarod. Don’t you agree?”

Rousseau forced out a noncommittal grunt instead of a warning growl and Ben shook his head. “Why are you being so stubborn? You and I both know it’s not me she wants. I’m not the reason she sits at that table, day after day, waiting for you to come to your senses.” He paused thoughtfully. “Though I do think I’ve managed to pique her interest recently.”

What the hell did that mean? Rousseau tensed and Ben sighed. “Oh, my friend, I hate that you’ve lost your sense of humor most of all. I can’t even tease you anymore.”

“I have a sense of humor.”

No. I have a sense of humor. You have a sense of apocalyptic dread and doom. Not the same thing at all.

“Allegra Jarod wants you, Rousseau. Not him. Not the experience. You. She’s not from here. She’s heard a few rumors but she laughs them off. She doesn’t even know he really exists, but I know she could handle it if she did.”

“You think or you know?” He wished the question back immediately. It was too revealing.

“I know. What exactly do you think we talk about every morning? And before you accuse me of giving away your big secret, you know better. But I will admit that you’re usually on her mind. If you aren’t sure, go on and ask the voice in your head.”

He’d rather chew glass.

Disturbing visual.

No matter what the answer was, it wouldn’t change anything. Once she found out the truth, she would come to him. Based on every previous experience, it was inevitable. She would ask for him, and the next day she would be gone, convincing herself that what she’d thought she’d experienced wasn’t real.

Denying himself wasn’t easy, but in a way, it was far more satisfying. She wanted him. The simple cafe owner who wasn’t a vessel created by his father’s lust and arrogance.

“I know I’m right about this,” Ben insisted impatiently. “What she’s feeling is real.”

Rousseau shook his head. “Your gift must be on the fritz, Adair. But even if it weren’t, the man she thinks she wants doesn’t exist. I’m a shadow. An illusion. I think it’s better for everyone if we leave well enough alone. Safer. You can have her if you want. I’m going home.”

Did you just give him permission to fuck Allegra? Without us?

“That’s too bad, friend. Especially since she and Michelle just sat down at the table closest to the dance floor.” Ben made a production of straightening his shirt. “Since you’ve given me permission, I better get my sexy ass on over there before one of the other men circling decides to make his move. Someone she cares about should dance with her before they take her home.”

“Shit.” His head whipped around fast enough to disprove his outward apathy.

Allegra was here.

And God, but she looked good. Too good for a place like this. She was wearing one of those long broom skirts and a sheer cock tease of a blouse over a tank top that managed to conceal and reveal at the same time.

She did that, his Allegra. Found clever ways to cover most of her body in public, regardless of the weather. Tonight he didn’t mind, possessive asshole that he was. But he’d always noticed. He noticed everything about her.

And you’ve already seen everything as well. Strawberries and cream sprinkled with cinnamon.

Nobody else needed to know that.

Rousseau watched her tug on the thin, rose petal pink material and he frowned. She seemed more worried about her scars than usual. Did she think they did anything to diminish her appeal? She was a fighter. A beautiful survivor.

Ben had taken it upon himself to tell Rousseau that she’d been a writer for a travel magazine before an accident left her on an open-ended vacation.

Rousseau had pretended not to care, and then gone online and read every article he could find with her name on the byline. It took days to read through them all. Allegra Jarod had been all over the world, and she’d seen things he couldn’t begin to imagine. Risking her life spelunking through unknown cave systems and scuba diving in shark infested waters. The locations were all aimed at adrenaline junkies, and she’d definitely caught the bug.

From a distance, she looked so delicate, but he knew now how strong she was. The way she pushed her body each day showed her courage and determination. It was only another mountain to climb, and she’d already reached every peak she’d set her sights on.

Rousseau had never left the state of Louisiana. He’d stuck out the hurricanes and the breaking of the levees, and one day he knew he would die here. His only escape came in books about travel, or stories the pretty tourists who ended up in his bed would share in the glow between rounds of hard fucking.

Do you envy those rootless wanderers? There is nowhere you could go that would rival the sights I’ve shown you. The heights, the sensations and all the experiences you’ve had because of me.

He ignored the defensive voice in his head, though he knew that was one of the reasons he’d never leave New Orleans. He was tied here just as surely as if there were shackles on his legs.

Allegra had come here to mend her body and soul, but she wouldn’t stay. Someone with her restless spirit would crave the next adventure, the next horizon before too long. And no matter how much he wanted her, no matter how strong she was, she wouldn’t be able to accept his curse. He gripped the table and shook his head. “I can’t, Ben. You know I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“He wouldn’t be afraid of one little dance. Would you, BD?”

Ben’s quiet question sent a gale of laughter echoing through Rousseau’s head, followed by a strong surge of power. “Damn it, no. You don’t have permission to do that. No one asked for you.”

On the contrary, I believe your friend has issued a challenge. I do like that man. And he’s right, I’m not afraid of dancing.”

“Don’t do this now. Please.” Not with Allegra.

I’m growing weary of your pathetic claims of martyrdom and, despite what you think, I don’t need your permission. I need hers. She may not have asked for Bone Daddy by name, but she will before the night is over. This way, we can all have what we truly desire and everybody wins. I love winning. Now step aside.

 

 

“Quit fidgeting, Allegra. You’re making me nervous.”

“You don’t get nervous.” Michelle also didn’t usually go out to bars on the weekend, but she had tonight.

It might have something to do with Allegra announcing her plans to seduce the neighborhood player this afternoon and then informing her roommate that she was going out for the evening.

Michelle saw right through her. Which wasn’t hard to do in a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Especially since Allegra slept in the living room.

It wasn’t in her nature to hide things from her friend, anyway. The truth was, Allegra had been dying to ask her for help and advice, since she knew a hell of a lot more about active volcanoes and the best time to visit barrier reefs than she did about picking up men in bars.

“I don’t know why you think I don’t get nervous,” she said, frowning. “Any single woman with a few brain cells in her head would be a little wary on a Saturday night in the Quarter.”

As she spoke, an attractive man in an LSU sweatshirt tripped off the dance floor, too busy trying to look down Michelle’s tight black halter to notice the step.

Allegra sighed. “If I had your confidence and those breasts, I wouldn’t be nervous at all. And I wouldn’t need a chaperone.”

“Are you kidding?” Michelle adjusted her strap as an excuse to check out the fit of the man’s jeans. “I wouldn’t let you come to a place like this without a chaperone. You look like wolf bait, all innocent and dewy and ready to be someone’s main course.” She smiled and snapped her teeth. “Luckily, I can bite back while trying to protect you from yourself and your bad ideas. I’m a born multi-tasker.”

“Will you stop?” Allegra shook her head. “I don’t need protecting.”

“Says you,” Michelle clapped back. “Either way, I need a drink for this. After dealing with angry teenagers wielding finger paint all day, I could really use one. Maybe coming out wasn’t such a bad idea. I’m thinking I need a new distraction too.”

Michelle didn’t do relationships or boyfriends. She was committed to being single, and she had been for as long as Allegra had known her. It was her opinion that men as a species weren’t to be trusted, often admitting that if she didn’t enjoy the male body as much as she did, she would go after women instead.

“Double standard, thy name is Chelle.” Allegra crossed her arms. “You followed me out tonight to stop me from being distracted, but it’s okay for you? In what world is that fair?”

Michelle kept her gaze on the clumsy hot guy, who noticed her studying him and nearly dropped his beer. “In the real world where you don’t actually do distractions, even though your career was practically tailor-made for them. Fly in, have an adventure and some sex with the local eye candy, and fly right back out again. You were living my dream. Or you could have been if you didn’t care more about rappelling than ravishing.”

Allegra frowned and plucked at her sleeve again, wishing she’d worn something else. “A stranger in every port? That sounds so…”

Empty. Hollow.

“Your face right now is making my point.” Michelle lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t like one-night stands, but you never sat still long enough to have a real relationship, which left you in the strange position of dating buddies you trusted enough to sleep with for a few months, until you could part on friendly terms without feeling like the cow giving the milk away for free.”

“Thank you,” Allegra said dryly. “When you say it out loud like that I feel so much better about myself.”

Michelle sighed heavily. “I’m not judging. What I’m saying is this isn’t like you. All Rousseau does is one-night stands, Allegra. It’s all he can do.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re right. You need to know.” She rose abruptly from her chair. “And I’m going to tell you as soon as I grab us a drink. Maybe three. Then I’ll share a few things about your would-be Romeo that will make you happy I brought you the proper fortification.”

Michelle walked away, and a knot formed in Allegra’s stomach. What was she going to say? Michelle hadn’t given her this much grief about befriending Ben, and she genuinely seemed to dislike him.

Speaking of Ben, where the hell was he?

“Would you like to dance?”

She looked up at a twenty-something man with light brown hair, kind eyes and an open smile. He obviously hadn’t seen her walk in, or he wouldn’t be asking for a dance. Before she could thank him for the offer and turn him down, someone appeared at his side, towering over him.

“She is already taken, mon petit. Why don’t you go ask your friend over there to dance? He doesn’t look too happy to see you with us. And why would he? When we both know he wants you for himself.”

The man’s face turned beet red, his eyes widening as he studied the magnetic man who’d spoken. At this moment, she couldn’t imagine there were many people that could resist Rousseau’s pull.

And it was stronger than usual tonight. His sexuality rolled off him like heated steam as he stood with a sensual confidence she’d never noticed before. It made him even more appealing, and she hadn’t thought that was possible.

“Ex-excuse me?” Her would-be dance partner stuttered.

Rousseau arched one brow. “The friends you came with already know your secret, little man. They don’t care, but even if they did, why would you fight it? Why deny yourself the pleasure of his touch when he would welcome you?”

“I don’t know. My family thinks—”

“Family,” Rousseau scoffed. “They will get over it. But you won’t if you let him get away. Go. Now. Dance with him.”

Allegra’s jaw dropped when the man spun on his heel without hesitation, heading back to his table and holding out his hand to a shy, surprised-looking Latino. Oh my. She could see it in both of their expressions. The longing they’d been trying to hide. But how had Rousseau? “How did you know?”

He shrugged, his gaze still on the twosome as they walked to the dance floor, their steps slow as though unsure whether they were headed to the guillotine or salvation. “That one was easy to read. So much sexual repression and fear, like nails on a chalkboard. A waste of good life, if you ask me. He just needed someone to give him permission to follow his passions. The same as every other human I know.”

“Every other human?”

Had he been drinking? Ben mentioned he might be different away from the café, but this was something else. The man she’d come to know had never given off this energy that bordered on arrogance. Rousseau was kind and introverted and…a playboy. Maybe he seemed transformed because she’d never seen him out hunting before. And that’s exactly what he reminded her of now. A hunter.

As soon as she thought it his head turned and his gaze clashed with hers, causing her heart to skip a beat or two in shock.

“Your eyes.”

“Can only see you, cher. Dance with me now. I need to touch you.”

Her thoughts were muddled. She’d always thought his eyes were hazel, but now they seemed more golden. Amber with flecks of green. He called her cher. Darling. And he wanted to dance? Her hand went searching for her cane where it rested against her chair before she knew what she was doing.

Wait… Her cane. “You know I can’t dance, Rousseau. Not anymore.”

“Never speak in absolutes, cher. Nothing is certain. But there’s no need to worry. For what I have in mind, you won’t need the cane. Only me.” He took her hand from the rounded top of the walking stick and lifted her easily from her seat.

She seemed to float toward the middle of the dance floor, not feeling the ache in her hip at all as the upbeat jazz gave way to a slow, sultry melody played for them.

Her eyes closed at the first press of his body against hers. His skin was feverishly hot. Blazing like the sun wherever she touched him. Was that normal?

Was anything about this normal? His eyes, his words…

He cupped her hip, dragging her closer and she lost her train of thought. Oh God, he was so big and—she swallowed a moan—hard. His erection was hot steel, branding her skin through her clothes and nudging insistently against her stomach until she wanted to wrap her legs around him and take everything he was offering.

“You like knowing what you do to me. It’s all for you, cher.” He nuzzled her neck and growled softly. “I’m this hard because I’m imagining what you’d do if I ripped off that fuck-me top to get your breasts in my mouth. If I lifted your long skirt and slid myself inside, where you’re wet and aching for me.”

She shuddered at the image, weak laughter escaping as he pressed a kiss to her chin. “If you did that here, we’d get arrested.”

“What if I told you we wouldn’t?” He pulled back and she opened her eyes to see his gaze focused on her lips. “That everyone would see us, and you wouldn’t care. I know you’ve fantasized about it, Allegra. Watching and being watched.”

She shook her head. It was impossible to concentrate on much beyond the feel of his shoulders beneath her hands, his body swaying, chest brushing against her sensitive nipples. Who was this man and what had he done with her hesitant Rousseau? Not that she was complaining. Hadn’t she wanted him to show some sign that her desire wasn’t one-sided?

She was in shock. That’s all this was. “My fantasies aren’t that wild.”

I think they are. And I can prove it.

Had he spoken? She wasn’t sure. The room was tilting on its side, the sounds all around her suddenly muted echoes. Rousseau took a step back, tugging his black T-shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor to bare his smooth chest to her gaze.

Damn. “What are you doing?”

“See me, Allegra.”

She couldn’t look away.

He stood proud as she studied the unusual tattoos that covered his arms and lined his collarbone. There was something about them that felt familiar, but all she was aware of at this moment was that they decorated a body that needed no enhancement. He didn’t need the metal bars that pierced his nipples either, but they momentarily drew her attention from his perfectly sculpted abs and pecs. Again, she sensed he was concealing himself, despite the partial striptease. It was a stunning camouflage. Perfect for hiding in plain sight.

Her hand lifted of its own accord and wrapped around his long dreadlocks, staring thoughtfully. “Why do you hide yourself? What are you running from?”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until his eyes narrowed dangerously in reaction. “Why are you resisting?”

“Am I?”

“You want this body.” It wasn’t a question. “And I know it wants you. Think of all the things it can do to you right here and now. All you have to do is ask the right question.”

Allegra couldn’t hold his gaze. It saw too much. It made her feel too much. But when she looked away, she noticed something that sent shockwaves through her body. 

“Holy shit.”

The crowd that had been dancing had formed a circle around them without her noticing. They were watching Rousseau and Allegra with interest and excitement, touching each other or themselves as if she were a part of some peep show they’d paid to attend.

“What are they do—”

“Such a strong spirit. So curious.” Rousseau cupped her cheek to turn her attention back to him. “Show me, Allegra Jarod. Show me what you want.”

His fingers slid down her neck, making her tremble at the heat he left in his wake. He gripped the flimsy fabric and smiled before he easily tore her shirt down the middle. He dealt with the tank top beneath in the same way. Swiftly, efficiently, before she had a chance to react.

“What the hell?” She tried to grab the edges of her shirt and pull them together, but she wasn’t fast enough.

He gripped her arms and pulled her close, nibbling on her lower lip until she was trembling. “Not hell, cher. Heaven. You resist, but these are your fantasies. I can fulfill them. I can give you every dark desire, every lusty wish. And you have so many. Ah, Allegra, I knew you were a bad girl.”

He squeezed and lifted her breasts, plucking at her long nipples while she moaned against his mouth. “These should be pierced. You’re so sensitive you might even come as they attach them. Maybe small bars I could twist with my tongue.”

A wave of dizziness assailed her as he whipped her around to face the crowd once more, as if to show her off. She didn’t want to be pierced, did she? Didn’t want to be naked in front of strangers, so how was it that nothing about this felt wrong?

His touch was turning her inhibitions to dust.

“Inhibitions were created by man, cher. We were all born naked. All meant to be free. Look how much happier we are when they’re absent.”

A lusty groan drew her attention to the shy young man and his friend who’d only just worked up the courage to dance in public. Their expressions were ecstatic as they bent over the booth where their friends were sitting, her would-be dance partner pumping his slender hips in a way that left no doubt what the two men were doing.

“Right here?”

“Passion should never be denied or delayed, don’t you agree? Nothing that feels that good should be taboo. Our bodies were made for pleasure.”

He cupped her breasts from behind, his breath hot against her shoulder as she watched the men lose themselves to pleasure, unaware of anything but each other.

Rousseau’s erection pulsed against her, making her shiver. “Does it surprise you that I enjoy watching as much as you do? That the sight of them together only fuels the desire you’ve kindled?”

Nothing surprised her at the moment, though logically she knew it should. She was drunk, drugged and thoroughly aroused at the scene playing out before her eyes. It was beautiful. Two lean, masculine bodies straining together, their need for each other clear for all to see. No lies. No secrets.

“Fucking is the most honest form of communication there is,” Rousseau murmured, making her wonder if she’d spoken out loud. “And the closest most human beings get to God.”

Allegra turned away from the climaxing couple only to stop at another scene. A woman was lying face down over the laps of two men in business suits. Her pencil skirt was tugged up over her hips, her white silk panties around her thighs as each took turns spanking the round cheeks of her ass. The woman cried out for more as her pale skin turned red from the attention.

More.

“I was told you had an adventurous spirit, but I wasn’t sure if it would extend to the carnal. I’m so pleased to have been wrong. People’s secret desires are often surprising, even after all these centuries. Yours most of all.”

“Why mine?” she managed to wheeze out, feeling as if all the air was being squeezed out of her lungs.

“Why do yours surprise me? That would be telling, wouldn’t it? And I’m more about show than tell. Will you show me, Allegra, if you’re wearing those pink panties that I love? The ones I’ve seen you walking across your apartment in? The ones I’ve imagined dragging to the side to get at the treasure they conceal?”

She felt a breeze on her hard nipples and between her thighs before she could tear her gaze away from the debauched spanking scene and look down at herself. Rousseau had lifted her loose skirt and tucked the hem into the waistband. Now along with her bare breasts, everyone could see her scar-ravaged knee and the legs that no longer looked like a matching pair. But for the first time in her life she simply didn’t care. Let them look. She wanted to be seen.

“You are brave, aren’t you? Ah, that’s nice. Not pink, but still perfect for your delicious curves. I have a sudden longing for peaches.”

“I don’t have any curves.” Her voice cracked when his hot palm cupped her lace-covered sex. “Rousseau... Oh God.”

“You have all the curves you need to drive men wild. And so responsive. I could make you come now, right here, in front of all these people. Make you cream and scream and beg for more.” The gravel-rough words were hot against her ear, his bare cock sliding against the lace. Bare? When had he taken off his jeans?

She was close to giving in, to begging the way he wanted her to. “Rousseau, I—”

“Give in, Legs.”

Ben.

Allegra’s lashes flickered as she focused on her handsome friend. He was licking his lower lip, his eyes on Rousseau’s fingers as they slipped beneath the flimsy fabric to tangle in her strawberry curls.

“I can’t deny how much I’m looking forward to seeing you two together.” He undid the top button of his jeans, then the next, and Allegra couldn’t contain her whimper at the hint of his impressive erection straining against the denim.

“I see he’s gotten to you,” Rousseau sounded jealous and amused at the same time. “He’s determined to join in, I have to give him that. And effective, since you’re now thinking of all of us together, aren’t you?”

“How do you know?”

Rousseau laughed against her temple without answering. “Did he tell you we’ve shared women before? Not for a while now and never one like you, but I remember how thoroughly they enjoyed themselves. He’s got skills, for being so young.”

Ben’s smile beckoned her, but she saw sadness in his eyes. Yearning for something else. Someone else.

How did she know that?

“You want to know, so you do. And you’ve always seen that his heart can’t be yours, haven’t you, cher? But that’s not what we want from him, is it? His body is willing enough. Tell me you want that, want me, and I can have him come closer and join us right now.”

The words penetrated the sensual fog surrounding her, but she still couldn’t make herself pull away. How often did they do this? Pick a woman to share like this? Was she a game to them?

“Don’t diminish your worth, Allegra. You aren’t just another woman to any of us. To me. All you have to do is tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

“I want...” Why did Ben look so sad?

She no sooner thought the question when Michelle suddenly appeared on her knees at Ben’s feet, taking his cock in her mouth.

“Michelle?”

Where had she come from? What the fuck was happening? This couldn’t be real, could it? She didn’t even like him.

Ben moaned loud and long, his hands fisting in Michelle’s curls, hips thrusting helplessly against her mouth as she took him deep. “Yes,” he groaned, tilting his head back. “Please, Mimi.”

Oh God, that shouldn’t be turning her on, should it?

Rousseau pinched her clit between rough fingers, regaining her attention with a jolt of pleasure so intense it nearly blinded her. “Now that you know what they want, you can stop distracting me and admit what you want. Who do you want, Allegra? Tell me now.”

“You. I want you, Rousseau.” All at once she was out of her mind with the need to come. The air around her was an aphrodisiac, filled with groans and cries of carnal delight. Rousseau’s body felt like a furnace behind her, and she turned in his arms, rubbing her breasts against his chest, her nipples scraping the cool metal of his piercings as she licked his neck. Salty. Delicious. Male.

She’d do anything to have him.

“Please, Rousseau. I want you now.”

He jerked in her arms, jarring her with the strength of his reaction. He pulled back, his jaw tight, golden eyes nearly glowing with lust and barely restrained power. “Call me by my other name. You want Bone Daddy. Say it out loud, and I can fulfill your every desire. I’ll give you everything. I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll beg for mercy. You’ll think you might die from the pleasure. Just do it now. I want you, Bone Daddy. Say it.”

“I see you, spirit.”

Was that Michelle? Wasn’t she busy with Ben?

Rousseau let out a warning snarl that made Allegra flinch in surprise.

“I said I see you, spirit. Now back the fuck off.”

She said something in what sounded like another language and a wave of dizziness washed over Allegra. She heard the crash of the cymbals, and then the music and overloud buzz of the crowd resumed, forcing her to cover her ears protectively.

She looked around the room, growing more rattled with every passing second. The two young men were still dancing awkwardly on the floor, smiling proudly at each other through their blushes. But they weren’t having sex.

The woman in her crisp pencil skirt sat at the table with her coworkers, no sign of what they’d been up to only moments before.

Had she imagined the whole thing?

She glanced down at herself but nothing was uncovered. Nothing out of place.

“But something happened.”

“Allegra.”

She looked up at Rousseau’s pained expression. His eyes were hazel again, full of knowledge, regret and frustrated desire. Whatever she’d just experienced, his look said she hadn’t gone through it alone. “What was that, Rousseau?”

“I’m so sorry, Allegra. I didn’t know it was going to happen. It usually doesn’t. I would never—”

He broke off when Michelle grabbed her arm, a dangerous expression on her face. “Fine. Perfect. We’re all sorry. We need to go, Allegra. I brought your things from the table, so don’t even think about arguing.”

Where was Ben? Hadn’t she just seen Ben? Allegra was still confused when Michelle took her hand, nearly dragging her away from the solemn café owner, who was standing silent and still as a statue amid the mass of writhing bodies.

She wanted to talk to him. She didn’t want to leave him when he looked so lost.

It wasn’t until they’d left the club that she stumbled, sharp needles of pain stabbing her from knee to hip. She forced them to a stop at the corner, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her cane hard. “It didn’t hurt when I was dancing with Rousseau. How did I not notice that?” She’d lived with the pain for so long, it was hard to imagine that she wouldn’t be aware of its absence. “Are you going to tell me what just happened, Chelle?”

Michelle kept looking over her shoulder, watching the door to the club as though she were worried they might be followed. “I told you, Allegra. How many times? I warned you that Rousseau was trouble. But you decided to follow Adair’s advice instead.”

She sounded incredibly put out about that last bit.

“You didn’t seem that upset with him a few minutes ago,” she muttered mulishly, limping behind her.

She thought she saw Michelle’s shoulders tighten, but she couldn’t be sure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Allegra limped behind her, mind racing. She would suspect someone of slipping something in her drink if she’d had a chance to order one.

Maybe Rousseau’s big secret with women had to do with hypnotism. That might explain the illusory orgy she’d just witnessed. Participated in.

Would it explain why his eyes were glowing? How he read your mind? Or the fact that no one has ever been able to hypnotize you before?

There weren’t that many logical explanations, but there had to be one, damn it. And if there was, she needed to find it before she lost her mind.

“Define trouble for me. Be specific. No more beating around this bush.”

Michelle swore under her breath. “I’ll try, but you’re not going to like it and you’ll probably think I’m crazy.”

“I promise I won’t think you’re crazy.” How could she after what just happened?

“Not even if I tell you that the guy feeling you up in the club was not the same guy you’ve been crushing on for weeks?” She paused. “No, that’s not entirely accurate. He was mostly Rousseau.”

“Mostly?”

“If you don’t count the spirit currently riding his ass, then yes. Mostly.”

She stumbled and Michelle slid an arm around her waist with a sigh. “Let’s at least get you home and off your feet before I tell you any more ghost stories.”

People’s secret desires are often surprising, even after all these centuries.

Centuries. He’d really said centuries, hadn’t he?

“Let’s do that,” Allegra said weakly, feeling decidedly off balance. “You know I love a good ghost story.”