Chapter 12

Grabbing the shower curtain with an impatient fist, Luc thrust it back. To his shock, Alyssa stood three feet away, hip leaned against the vanity, a towel in her hand. She looked furious—and hurt.

“So, was that good for you?”

ALYSSA was still furious six hours later as she pounded on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in her spare bedroom. With a grunt, she kicked it once, twice, then followed with a mean right hook.

What was Luc thinking? She’d offered herself to him—something she never did for any man—and he’d self-pleasured in the shower. Of course he thought she offered herself to anyone with a Y chromosome and didn’t understand that she’d invited him alone because he was special, because she thought . . . maybe there was something more between them than fabulous sex.

Stupid.

Another kick, another punch. Sweat rolled down her body. It wasn’t relieving her tension.

Before she’d guilted Luc into staying, he’d mentioned that he was dating someone