Chapter 5

The sun was just going down as Remy headed to the voodoo shop to pick up Triana for dinner. He still couldn’t stop seething about how badly the raid had gone. They’d stayed at the docks for another three and a half hours after Aaron Lee had left, checking every little nook and cranny of the warehouse and the cargo ship. As Lee had predicted, they’d found nothing. And while the drug dogs had alerted on several places within the warehouse, they hadn’t found any actual crystal meth. It was frustrating as hell, too. Not only because they knew Lee had slipped the meth out shortly before they’d gotten there, but also because the man had been so damn snide about the whole frigging thing.

Lorenzo had promised them this wasn’t over, that Lee would have to store the meth somewhere in the city until he could get around to breaking it down into smaller packages.

“Breaking that much ice down and stuffing it into baggies is going to be a slow process,” the detective added. “My informant will get word to us soon, I can promise you that, so keep your phones on. When we get the next warrant, I want to move fast.”

Remy prayed Lorenzo was right, but he wasn’t holding out much hope. Lee hadn’t gotten where he was by being sloppy.

He shoved those thoughts away as he opened the door to Gemma’s shop. The one thing he didn’t want to do was ruin his evening with Triana because he had a bad taste in his mouth over failing to bust Aaron Lee. He’d been looking forward to spending time with her all day. The moment he walked inside and breathed in Triana’s scent, it was like a heavy, wet blanket lifted off his shoulders. Everything seemed lighter and he found thoughts of Aaron Lee and his freaky lieutenants fading away.

“There you are,” Gemma said, coming out from behind the counter to give him a hug. “I was worried that if you didn’t get here soon, Triana would primp until she passed out. That girl has been working it in front of that mirror upstairs for nearly two hours.”

“Mom!” Triana scolded from the top of the stairs. “Don’t tell him that.”

Gemma laughed, her dark eyes dancing as Triana started down the steps. “Why not? I’m just subtly letting Remy know how much effort you put into this date, so he makes sure to properly show his appreciation.”

Remy laughed, but the moment Triana’s bare legs came into view on the staircase, her smooth, light-brown skin flexing as she carefully descended each step in her heels, the sound caught in his throat. The sight of her in the flowing yellow sleeveless dress was enough to ramp his heart rate up to the danger zone. Combined with her long, wavy hair, smoky makeup, and flowery perfume that accentuated her natural scent, the complete package was almost enough to make his heart stop beating altogether. Damn, damn, and double damn! Right then he was as sure as heaven above that he’d never met another woman as beautiful as Triana Bellamy.

She held his gaze as she sidled over to him, her head cocked to one side, the tip of her tongue just touching the center of her upper lip. All at once, her heart sped up and her body put off the most delicious aroma on the planet. It was the same scent of arousal that had surrounded her last night as they’d kissed. The mere hint of it made him go hard in his jeans. The idea of saying the hell with dinner and heading straight for “dessert” was suddenly the only thing he could think about. His fingers itched to scoop her up and carry her back upstairs. He might have done it, too, if Gemma hadn’t spoken.

“Cold shower, anyone?” she asked, a knowing smile curving her lips.

Triana blushed. “Mom!”

Gemma only laughed as she went behind the counter.

Even though Triana still smelled as delectable as before, her mother’s words had achieved their desired effect. The trance Remy had been in was broken, and while he was still aroused as all hell, at least he was back in control. Another minute and he would have been panting.

Remy took a deep breath, then cautiously walked over to Triana, moving slowly to make sure he wouldn’t go all wolf and jump on her. Fortunately, while his hard-on definitely seemed to approve of getting closer to the object of its affection, nothing crazy happened.

Unable to resist touching her, he ran his fingers down her arm. “You ready for dinner?”

Triana nodded, casually intertwining her fingers with his. Remy stifled a groan. Damn, even that simple touch felt good. A little voice in the back of his head suggested his intense reaction to something as vanilla as holding hands probably meant something significant, but he shoved it back in the cluttered closet of his mind, and it shut up.

“Definitely,” Triana said, completely missing the fact that he was temporarily caught up in a distracting internal dialogue. “I’m starving.”

He motioned toward the door. “After you,” he said, enjoying the way her hips swayed as she walked in front of him.

“Good night, Mom,” Triana said over her shoulder as Remy opened the door for her. “I’ll probably be out late, so you don’t need to wait up.”

Gemma laughed. “Have fun, you two.”

Triana’s hand found Remy’s again as soon as they were out on the sidewalk, and he tugged her a little closer so he could enjoy the way their arms brushed against each other as they walked. Neither of them said anything for a while, instead simply enjoying the pleasure of being in each other’s company. Considering how keyed up he’d been just a few minutes ago, it was kind of amazing how relaxed he was now that he was with Triana. Sexually aroused, yes, but pretty chill other than that.

“The weather is so perfect tonight,” she finally said. “It’s hard to believe that stupid storm is still out there in the Gulf.”

“Tell me about it,” Remy said. “I checked the weather before coming to pick you up. Ophelia barely moved more than a mile today and the so-called experts still don’t have any idea whether it will keep moving toward Texas or turn toward Louisiana. At least it’s not getting any stronger, which is good. But as far as where it will make landfall, they’re pretty much in wait-and-see mode.”

Triana smiled at him. “Well, at least we know she’s not coming this way tonight, so there’s nothing to get in the way of our dinner date.”

He paused midstride to lean in for a quick kiss that ended up being not all that quick as he got a taste of her lips. His cock hardened even more at the slight hint of her tongue, and he had to remind himself that they were on a public street. If they hadn’t been, he might have been tempted to pin her up against the nearest wall and go exploring under that flowing yellow dress.

“Absolutely nothing to get in the way of our dinner date,” he agreed after pulling away to get his breath back.

They walked along again in silence for another block or so until Triana spoke. “Speaking of dinner, are we going anywhere in particular?”

“I made reservations for us at Muriel’s, if that’s okay with you?”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m not going to complain if you want to take me to Muriel’s, but you know we don’t have to go somewhere that fancy, right?”

He smiled. “I know. But I thought since this is kind of a reunion dinner, it should be kind of special. Like you.”

Triana’s lips curved. “Remy Boudreaux, you got all smooth on me in your absence, didn’t you? You realize flattery really will get you everywhere, don’t you?”

He chuckled and nudged her shoulder with his. “Promises, promises.”

“Actually, it is a promise. But I think you already knew that.”

Remy felt his jeans tighten uncomfortably and his heart rate climb back up at the heat in her gaze. Damn, she was going to drive him insane before they even made it to dinner.

“So, how was your cross-training with the local SWAT team today?” Triana asked, as if she wanted to tease him by making him think about normal crap instead of what she might be promising.

He stuck a crowbar in the recesses of his mind and forced it to change gears. “Training was good, though it was cut a little short.”

“What happened?” she asked as they turned down a side street and headed toward Jackson Square. “Nothing bad, I hope?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that. NOPD SWAT got called out to support a search warrant on a drug operation, and we went out to help them. It ended up taking the entire rest of the day.”

Triana’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait. I thought you were just here to do some training. You went out to serve a drug warrant?”

Remy heard her heart thump louder in her chest, this time for all the wrong reasons, and he realized he probably should have kept that piece of reality to himself. Triana might be involved in law enforcement back in Houston, but that didn’t mean she was okay with all aspects of it.

“It wasn’t anything crazy,” he said, hoping to downplay any danger. “An informant said a shipment of meth was coming in on a boat, but by the time we got there, the guy had already moved the stuff. It was all a big waste of time.”

That seemed to mollify her somewhat, but she was still regarding him seriously. “You might be doing more of these kinds of things while you’re here in New Orleans…going out on real calls?”

“It’s my job.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I just thought you’d be doing training this week. I mean, I didn’t even think you’d have jurisdiction here in New Orleans.”

“My boss took care of all that before we came,” Remy said. “He didn’t want us put in a position where we needed to do something and not have the authority to do it. There was a lot of paperwork, but we’re completely legit in the city for this week. But I promise you, my guys from Dallas are the best SWAT officers in the country, and we always take care of each other.”

Triana thought about that for a while. “This is probably going to sound stupid, but you’re always careful, right?”

He nodded. “Yes. And like I said, our number-one rule is to always watch out for each other.”

She relaxed a little at that, but her heart was still beating a little faster than normal and he could feel the tension in her body. He regretted bringing up the drug raid, but there was no way to take it back.

They continued for another block in comfortable silence before Triana surprised him by asking for more details about what the raid had entailed. Remy took his time and laid out not just what he’d done today, but also what a typical search warrant operation was like. He stayed away from details she didn’t need to know, like the fact that they’d been trying to take down Aaron Lee. Triana listened carefully but also asked a lot of pointed and intelligent questions.

Remy was showing her how he and his guys communicated during operations using nothing but hand signals when they passed a club with bright, shiny lights and a gaudy sign advertising open mic karaoke every night. Apparently, the sign wasn’t lying, since Remy could already hear the most god-awful voice butchering “Beast of Burden” by the Rolling Stones. It was one of the rare times in all his years as a werewolf that Remy was sorry he had such good hearing. The noise coming out of the open door was actually painful to listen to.

But it wasn’t the crap sound from the place that made him stop and take a second look. He was sure he recognized the club, though he wasn’t sure why it was familiar. Then it struck him. It wasn’t the appearance of the building—it was the address. He looked up and down the street a couple times to be sure, because it had been eight years since he’d seen the place last.

“Hey. Isn’t this where your dad’s place, the Jazz Joint, used to be?” Remy asked, sure he had to be wrong.

He remembered going to her dad’s club for dinner when he was in high school and had always thought the place had a cool, laid-back vibe. Nothing like this garish mess they were standing in front of now. The reputation of the club had been so good that well-known jazz musicians would show up all the time just for a chance to play there. But with the bellowing coming out the door combined with the cheap signage, he couldn’t imagine any respectable musician even wanting to walk on the same side of the street as this place.

Triana nodded sadly, not looking at the karaoke club as they walked past. She even tugged his hand a little so he’d quicken his pace as they moved down the street, clearly unwilling to spend any more time than necessary near the place that occupied where her dad’s old club had been.

Remy could understand that.

“After Dad’s death, Mom tried to keep it going,” Triana said, and Remy could almost taste her grief on the air. “Sort of in his memory…you know? She tried to get a partner, but no one was willing. Some people didn’t like the idea of working in a place where such a horrible murder had happened. Others simply pointed out that it simply wasn’t going to work. Dad didn’t just run the Jazz Joint; he was its heart and soul. Without his charisma and energy, the old building seemed like an empty shell. The people who used to play there wouldn’t come back. Mom said it was because the magic was gone.”

Triana fell silent as they crossed a street. Her father’s murder had been two years ago, but it was obvious the pain was as raw and upsetting as if it had happened yesterday. Remy squeezed her hand, trying to let her know without words that she didn’t need to talk about it but that he was there for her if she wanted to.

Rufus Bellamy had always been such a larger-than-life character—big, strong, loud, loving. Remy remembered him as this huge guy with muscles he’d gotten working on the docks of New Orleans as a young man, humping cargo and loading ships. He’d had a wild head of shaggy blond hair and a mustache to match. Everyone knew Rufus had lived part of his life on the wrong side of the law, but in a city like this, that wasn’t necessarily the stigma it might have been in other parts of the country.

The man had been out of that life for a while by the time Remy had met him. As far as Remy was concerned, Triana’s dad had been a faithful husband and loving father. But at the same time, Remy understood where Rufus Bellamy had come from. He loved to laugh and have fun like anyone else, but he was also a man no one wanted to mess with unless they wanted to know what it felt like to be beaten to a bloody pulp.

It was hard to believe that a man as powerful and full of life as Triana’s father was gone. He’d been a rare kind of person.

“Mom finally ended up selling the club,” Triana said after a few blocks. “While neither of us wanted to keep the place after my dad’s murder, it still sucks seeing the jazz club he poured his heart and soul into become a karaoke bar. It’s almost like blasphemy.”

“After hearing whoever was singing as we walked by the place, I agree,” Remy said. “But I’m pretty sure your dad wouldn’t be that upset. As I recall, he used to get up and sing with some of the musicians who came in…and he was pretty awful. That never kept him from doing it, though. I think he’d be fine with people singing in his old club as long as they’re having a good time.”

Triana stared at him for a moment, then a big smile spread across her face. “You know something, I think you’re exactly right. Don’t tell Mom I said this, but if Dad ever came back as a ghost, I could imagine him standing up at that karaoke mic, butchering songs with the best of them.”

They laughed at that image, and before long, they were telling each other all the stories they remembered about Rufus Bellamy—and there were a lot of them. By the time they reached Muriel’s over on Saint Ann, Triana’s mood had lightened considerably and they were back to the playful, sexy banter that had started off their date.

With its red brick and white wood trim, the two-story building on the edge of Jackson Square known as Muriel’s Bistro was a beautiful structure. The building on the corner of Saint Ann and Chartres had been in existence in one form or another practically since the founding of the city, and the owners of the restaurant had invested a lot money into lovingly restoring the place to its mid-1800s grandeur.

The best thing about Muriel’s—beyond the amazing food, of course—was the ambience. There was something about the blend of mid-nineteenth-century French charm, the New Orleans mystique, and the Southern hospitality that really worked for this place. How many other restaurants maintained a reserved table for a ghost? It was true. The place kept a table set with wine and bread for the ghost of Pierre Jourdan, one of the restaurant’s previous owners.

Remy didn’t miss the way men’s heads turned to follow Triana as the hostess led them across the main red-and-yellow-decorated dining room and seated them at a table for two in the back corner. While he was surprised at the spike of jealousy that rushed through him, not to mention the animalistic urge to turn and snarl at the gawkers, he couldn’t blame the men whose gazes were drawn to Triana’s hypnotic beauty. He certainly was as well.

The hostess took their wine orders, then mentioned the name of their server and left them alone. Even though the dining room was crowded, the alcove where they were seated offered them a little privacy. Not that it mattered. Triana was so alluring it was like there was no one else around.

“So, what are the other guys from Dallas up to while you’re out wooing me tonight?” she asked with a sparkle in her eyes.

He chuckled. “Wooing? Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was taking you out for dinner.”

She flashed him a smile. “I could have had dinner at home. I came out with you tonight because I’m expecting much more than food.”

Remy felt a crazy vibration start in his gut at the teasing, playful look she gave him. Gaze locked with his, she licked her full lips, tracing her nimble tongue over them in a gesture that was innocent and sexy at the same time. The heat that had come with that earlier vibration spread from his stomach in a distinctly southerly direction. Sitting this close, it was impossible to miss the pheromones rolling off her—or to be immune to them.

That’s when he knew the night was going to be very special.

“Are you the kind of woman who likes to be wooed?” he asked, his voice sounding a little deeper as his inner wolf attempted to come out and play. He casually looked over at his fingers where they rested on the table to make sure his claws hadn’t slipped out. Thankfully, they hadn’t.

“All women like to be wooed and charmed and appreciated,” she said softly, tilting her head and looking at him in a way that made his inner wolf growl a little louder in hunger. “If the man doing those things is the right man.”

He grinned. “I hope I’m the right man.”

Triana leaned forward a little. “Well, if it helps, you’re definitely on the right track so far.”

They were forced to put their flirting on temporary hold as their server arrived to introduce herself and deliver their glasses of wine. The woman gave them the standard pitch about house specials and chef recommendations, but since he and Triana were more interested in each other than in dinner, they ignored all the appetizers, soups, and salads and headed straight for the main entrées. He ordered the filet of beef while Triana chose the sautéed salmon. It wasn’t like they could go wrong with anything they picked because everything was good there.

“You never did answer my question,” Triana reminded him after the waitress left. “What are your friends up to?”

Remy sipped his wine. “They said something earlier today about heading to the French Quarter again.”

“You’re not sorry we didn’t go out with them, are you?” she asked teasingly. “We could always give them a call and meet up with them later if you want.”

His mouth twitched. “No, thanks. I’m good. Don’t get me wrong. I’m closer to the members of my SWAT team than most people are with their families, but tonight, I’d much rather spend time with you instead of them.”

“Good answer. You really are skilled at this wooing thing,” she said with a smile. “But I have to admit, you have me intrigued. I saw the way you guys acted with each other last night, so I could already tell you’re tight with them. You obviously spend a lot of time with them outside of work.”

“Yeah, I hang out with them a lot,” he said, trying to figure out how to put what he wanted to say into words that made sense. It wasn’t like he could tell her he was a member of a wolf pack that spent just about every waking minute together. “The men and women on our team are kind of like a family—closer than most families, actually. It’s kind of hard to explain, but doing the job we do tends to make for a pretty tight bond.”

Triana regarded him over the rim of her wineglass. “There are women on your SWAT team? Do I need to be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” he said, unable to resist teasing her. “Are you the kind of woman who gets jealous at the idea of a man she’s seeing working with another woman?”

She hesitated, seeming to think about it. After a moment, she frowned thoughtfully. “Normally, I’m not. But in this case, I find myself feeling somewhat…possessive.”

While there was a part of him that felt a trace of alarm at what Triana’s jealousy meant, a more practical portion was quick to point out he’d been a little possessive himself a few minutes earlier when half the guys in the dining room had twisted their heads around like Linda Blair in The Exorcist to follow Triana’s movements across the room. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, as his grandmother used to say.

As to what all that jealousy meant, he and Triana were sexually attracted to each other. The primitive part of them that wanted to get naked and nasty was sure to express itself in other ways, such as in her knee-jerk jealous reaction to him working with women and his desire to bite the men who were ballsy enough to stare at her ass.

“Well, in this case, you have no reason to feel possessive,” he told her. “There’s only one woman on the Dallas SWAT team and she’s off-limits. Beyond the fact that I think of her as a sister, she’s in a serious, committed relationship with another member of the team. They’d probably be married by now if it wasn’t for the fact that they have to hide their relationship from the brass.”

Triana did a double take. “Wait a second. Two members of your SWAT team are sleeping together and the rest of you are covering for them?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Their food came then, interrupting their conversation. Remy was glad, because he definitely didn’t want to get into the fact that the only woman on the Dallas SWAT team was in a relationship with her own squad leader. For someone like Triana, who worked in the law enforcement community, that little detail might be difficult to accept. It wasn’t as if he could tell Triana that bonding with one’s soul mate threw all the normal rules of society straight out the window.

Remy speared a piece of steak with his fork and tasted it. As he’d expected, the food was amazing. Triana seemed to approve of the salmon she’d ordered as well, if the little moan she let out was any indication. As she nibbled another piece of fish off her fork, Remy discovered he enjoyed watching her eat. He was as orally fixated as the next guy, and seeing her lips close over the fork and her mouth move as she slowly chewed was an erotic experience.

Then again, almost anything Triana did would probably be a turn-on, considering he seemed to have it rather bad for her at the moment.

She must have seen him staring at her lips as she chewed, because she gave him a sultry smile. “Are you watching me eat?”

He contemplated denying it but changed his mind. What would be the point?

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. But you have a very sensual mouth and I have a hard time watching it move without thinking all kinds of things I shouldn’t be.”

“That’s a pity,” she murmured, returning her attention to her salmon and field pea succotash.

“What’s a pity?” he asked, hoping she’d clarify her words. “That I find your mouth so sensual, or that I have completely naughty thoughts when I watch it move?”

Triana lifted her head to look at him, then slowly and carefully ate another bite of fish, clearly savoring it. When she finished up by licking her lips, he was relatively sure everyone in the dining room could hear the thump his hard-on made as it smacked the underside of the table.

“I think it’s a pity you don’t feel comfortable enough with me to talk about those naughty thoughts,” she said as she sipped her wine. “I’d enjoy hearing every one of them in slow, exquisite detail.”

Remy’s fingers tingled and he quickly slid his hands under the tablecloth to hide the fact that his claws had slipped out. Damn, this woman was dangerous. He flexed his fingers a few times until his claws retracted. Crisis averted—for now at least.

“I guess I’ll have to be bolder, then,” he said. “I’m sure that by the time we have dessert, I won’t be able to keep my thoughts to myself anymore.”

Triana smiled. “Good, because I thought we could go to Café du Monde for beignets and coffee after dinner. I just love the way that powdered sugar sprinkled over the top of them gets absolutely everywhere.”

That vivid image of her covered in powdered sugar was almost enough to have Remy calling for the check. But he resisted, knowing this night of extended verbal foreplay was only getting started. He might have a difficult time walking with an erection, but he had no problem stretching the evening out, if for no other reason than the anticipation would make the end of the night even better. So, as difficult as it was for him to think about anything other than the image of Triana covered in powdered sugar, he did his best to move the conversation toward another topic.

“In a blatant and obvious change of subject, how do you like living and working in Houston?” he asked, spearing another piece of steak.

Triana laughed but otherwise didn’t bat an eye, smoothly shifting gears from sultry to casual with the agility of a Ferrari—she’d always possessed a quick and clever mind, even back in high school.

“Well, there’s no one in the crime lab sneaking around sleeping together, so it’s not as exciting as your team, but I still enjoy it,” she said with a smile. “It’s extremely satisfying being able to use my science background to do something meaningful.”

“Do you ever get a chance to go into the field and work an active crime scene?”

He’d seen techs collecting evidence in the field in Dallas all the time, but he didn’t know much about how crime labs were organized in other police departments.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. We have a team of trained crime scene investigators who do most of that work, though. I’ve had the chance to go out a few times, when there was something special the police wanted us to check for or if investigators wanted us to actually conduct a test in the field. But to tell the truth, I prefer the safe and cozy confines of my lab. Call me a wuss, but I’m an analyst, not a cop.”

Remy laughed. “That’s not being a wuss. That’s being smart.”

They talked some more about the kind of work she did before moving on to other personal topics, such as where she lived, what she did for fun, and what her social life was like.

“Is that your roundabout way of asking me if I’m dating anyone?” she asked in a playful tone.

He put on a shocked expression even though she was right. He hadn’t intended to ask her something like that, but it had kind of slipped out.

“Of course not,” he lied. “I would never ask anything so personal. I’m just concerned you might be one of those scientist types who’s always getting so wrapped up in their work that they forget to take care of themselves.”

The smile she gave him made him think she wasn’t buying it. “Well, that’s really sweet of you to worry about me like that, but you don’t need to. There’s a lawyer in Houston I see on and off. It’s nothing serious, but he keeps me from getting too wrapped up in work.”

Remy couldn’t help wondering if she was messing with him just to get a reaction. Well, it worked. He and Triana were merely hanging out for the week while they were in New Orleans, and yet he was bothered by the idea of her with another guy. Feeling a little spike of jealousy when anonymous men watched her walk across the room was one thing, but getting pissed at a man she might or might not be seeing, even on and off, was insane.

Maybe so, but the sensation was there, and it was frigging real. Suddenly, he was sorry he’d asked her the question in the first place. It had been better not knowing.

“What about you?” Triana asked, setting her fork and knife on her empty plate. “Is there anyone back in Dallas you see now and then to get your mind off work?”

Alarm bells went off as Triana’s flirty tone changed to something more serious. He realized he was about to step into a potential minefield and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Me?” He shook his head. “No, I’m not really seeing anyone seriously at the moment. In fact, I haven’t been on a date in a long time.”

Remy held his breath, expecting Triana to call him out. It wasn’t that he was lying. He honestly hadn’t been on a date in years—but that was only because he tended to limit his social contact to women who didn’t use the word date. Hookup was probably a better term to go with, though he doubted Triana would appreciate the difference.

“Good answer,” she said with a smile. “Ready for those beignets now?”

* * *

As they walked out of Muriel’s and headed for Café du Monde, Triana’s legs felt a little wobbly. So okay, she was turned on. She supposed an hour and a half of nearly nonstop flirting could do that to a girl. She’d gone out with guys who could talk a good game before, but nothing like Remy. Bottom line, the man possessed a way with words that made her think he could make her panties wet simply by reading a dictionary to her.

Between his clever banter and smooth-as-honey voice, she was ready to skip dessert and head straight to the nearest available horizontal surface. Heck, she wasn’t even sure if the horizontal part was a definite requirement. She could think of a few standing positions that might work just as well.

It was only a short walk to Café du Monde, but they took their time anyway, slowly strolling hand-in-hand along the edges of Jackson Square, admiring the artwork set out for sale along the sidewalk. Triana discovered she and Remy had similar taste in art, both of them drawn to bold colors and strong lines. She wasn’t surprised. It was becoming more obvious to her with every passing moment that there was a serious connection between her and Remy. A few days ago, she would have said the idea was crazy, but right then, she had to admit maybe her mother was right. Maybe the magic of New Orleans had had a hand in bringing her and Remy together after so many years apart.

From the moment Remy had picked her up that night, Triana had felt the crazy sexual spark that seemed to exist between them growing brighter. Within seconds of coming downstairs, she’d gotten all warm and tingly. From that point on, every touch, every heated glance, every innuendo-filled sentence had only turned her on more. Right then, she was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. As turned on as she was, she could almost believe Remy could actually give her an orgasm without ever touching her. In theory, something like that shouldn’t be scientifically possible. Then again, science couldn’t explain just how perfect Remy Boudreaux was, either.

As they stopped to admire another street vendor’s artwork, Triana glanced at Remy, unable to help herself. With that dark-blond hair, those expressive hazel eyes, and his square jaw with just a hint of stubble, he was more attractive than any man she’d ever met, not to mention had a body that was so well-built it was practically sinful. He was also fun to hang out with, interesting to talk to, and unbelievably charming. Individually, any of those qualities would have been enough to make Remy amazing; but beyond all of those, there was something else about him that made her want to swoon like the Southern belles of olden days. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was or even understand it. All she knew for sure was that Remy was perfect for her.

Café du Monde was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and since it was a popular tourist attraction, it was usually also extremely crowded. However, in what had to be the strangest customer service concept on the planet, they expected people to find their own tables. There were multiple entrances into the covered seating area with signs everywhere pointing that out. Yet, while many locals walked in and found their own tables, most of the tourists found a line and got in it. Fortunately, the lines weren’t too long at the moment, so Triana didn’t feel too bad about grabbing a table while the tourists stood there waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

The moment she and Remy sat, a waitress came over to grab the plates, mugs, and money left by the previous customers, then took their orders.

“Two orders of beignets,” Remy said to the waitress, then looked at Triana. “Hot milk?” When she nodded, Remy finished their order. “Two coffees. One au lait, one black with sugar.”

The waitress nodded but didn’t write anything down. No notepads or menus at Café du Monde—it wasn’t that kind of place. After the woman left, Triana couldn’t help smiling at Remy. “So you like your coffee strong, black, and sweet, huh?”

He returned her smile with a sexy grin. “I’m not even going there.”

She laughed. He was no fun. She’d really wanted to tease him about the connection between his taste in coffee and women. She rested her forearms on the small table and leaned closer. “I’m surprised you agreed to come here for dessert.”

“Why are you surprised? I love this place.”

She shrugged and reached out to trace a finger over one of his bulging biceps, enjoying his sudden intake of breath. Not only did it let her know that he liked it when she touched him, but it also made his pecs flex under his shirt.

“It seems obvious you work out a lot.” She ran her finger down the rolled-up sleeve of his button-down, along his strong forearm, all the way to the top of his big hand. “I thought you might worry about blowing your diet and all.”

He chuckled, flipping his hand over so fast she didn’t see it move, capturing hers and caressing it casually with his thumb. “Are you kidding? I’m a cop. I practically live on doughnuts.”

She lifted a brow, seriously doubting that. “Yeah right,” she laughed. “Next, you’ll be telling me you have Dunkin’ Donuts on speed dial.”

Triana was pretty sure he hadn’t eaten a doughnut, or any other kind of junk food, since high school. His kitchen probably didn’t have anything in it but whole grains and protein shakes. She was okay with that, especially if it gave him a body like the one he had.

“As a matter fact…” Remy let the words trail off as he glided the fingers of his other hand up and down her forearm. His touch made her skin tingle everywhere—and she did mean everywhere. She would have squirmed in her chair, but he was holding her hand too firmly.

Did he even realize how much she enjoyed what he was doing? Probably not. Guys could be so oblivious.

“So you’re not worried about your diet at all, huh?” she managed.

The light from the streetlamp outside caught his eyes, making them glint gold. “Something tells me I’m going to be working off a lot of calories before the night is over.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Are you going jogging or something?”

Triana couldn’t help teasing him just a little. Verbally fencing with Remy was such a heady turn-on.

“Or something.” His mouth quirked. “I’m not sure exactly what I’ll be doing, but I have no doubt it will be strenuous, get my heart rate going, and probably last most of the night.”

“That sounds like a lot of exercise.”

He gave her a slow, sexy grin. “When I exercise, I like it to last for a very long time.”

The thought made Triana’s breath catch. Oh yeah, Remy could definitely flirt better than any other man she’d ever met.

“Maybe we can exercise together, then,” she murmured softly. “I love a long, exhausting workout myself.”

Remy opened his mouth to say something, but the waitress appeared with a tray of beignets and cups of coffee. Café du Monde apparently owned stock in powdered sugar because they absolutely drowned their doughy treats in the stuff. Some might consider it a ridiculous amount of sugar. Triana thought it was perfect.

As she and Remy ate, they talked about how much Remy and his teammates from Dallas actually worked out. He claimed they maintained the bodies they had with as little as two hours of exercise per day.

“Sometimes we lift weights when there isn’t much going on around the compound,” he added. “But that’s pretty rare.”

True to his word, Remy ate all three of the beignets on his plate and two of Triana’s. She gladly let him, because while he supposedly didn’t have to work very hard to look the way he did, she certainly did. If she was going to be exercising later, she didn’t want to do it on a full stomach. Besides, if she’d be getting naked with a man who looked like Remy, she wanted to measure up.

She’d finished the last of her beignet and was sipping her coffee when Remy smiled and motioned at her mouth.

“You have a little powdered sugar on your lips,” he said.

She blushed. Of course she did. It was impossible to eat beignets at Café du Monde and not get sugar everywhere. She quickly grabbed one of the little paper napkins the waitress had given them and patted it over her lips, then gave Remy an embarrassed smile.

“Better?”

“Not quite,” he said. “Here, let me.”

She expected him to reach over and dab at her lips with a napkin. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her. Not one of those sweet, innocent, we’re-in-public kind of pecks, but one that made her quiver all over.

Triana slid her fingers into his short hair, pulling him closer and returning the kiss with all the passion and arousal that had been building the entire evening. She moaned softly as Remy’s tongue slipped into her mouth. The sweetness from the sugar and beignets along with the spice from the coffee and chicory all mixed with his unique masculine flavor, and the combination was intoxicating.

When he finally lifted his head, he hesitated just a moment to swipe his tongue over the corner of her lips, making sure he got all the powdered sugar off. Not that she cared why he did it. By then she was so aroused she was ready to climb onto his lap and devour him.

Triana gripped the edge of the table, holding on to it for dear life as she fought to get herself under control. She’d never been kissed like that before, and while she wasn’t completely sure if it was possible to orgasm from a kiss, it was pretty darn close.

“So, did that do it?” she asked softly, and she sure as hell wasn’t referring to getting all the powdered sugar off her lips.

Remy’s hazel eyes glinted. “Yeah, it did. Are you ready to get out of here now?”

She smiled. “Finally. I thought you’d never ask.”