She‟d lived alone for a decade or more. Solitude had always been a comfort. Luc had moved into her house the day after their wedding. It was logical, given that, between his upcoming TV show and his appearances, he‟d be traveling, while she was tied to Lafayette by the club and the restaurant. But him living in her personal space, her making room in her closet, bathroom, and drawers, all seemed weird. He was neater than her. And he ironed, which was a big bonus. But for the first few days, she‟d felt invaded—home, body, and heart. Now, watching him prepare to leave, Alyssa had to swallow down sadness. She was going to miss Luc, probably more than she should. She‟d grown accustomed to seeing him in Bonheur‟s kitchens, watching over her during Sexy Sirens‟ wee hours. Two days ago, his publicist had released the news of their wedding. Since then, Luc had whisked her to her car each night, tightly holding her against his side. She‟d gotten used to him fixing her a light snack before bed, his comforting presence beside her as she slept, inevitably waking to his delicious, addicting touch and the way he kept her on orgasm overload.
