“I wouldn’t be here without you, Remy,” she repeated, honesty in her voice.

“Damn it to hell, Blue, you’re goin’ to get us into trouble if you keep this up. Why the hell aren’t you afraid of me? You don’ have good sense.”

“Who says I’m not afraid of you? You’re a very scary man. Even I can see that. Eat. You skipped breakfast.”

He forced himself to loosen his grip on her. What was he going to do? Yank her across the table, lay her out and devour her? It might be what he wanted, but he had learned control. He just needed a break from that faint temptation of lavender.

“I am hungry,” he admitted, meaning it. Not caring if she read his true meaning.

Evidently she had no problems translating. Color tinged her flawless skin. “Just eat, Remy. Everyone is starin’ at us.”

He sighed and took a bite. The food was spicy and every bit as good as he remembered. Emile was an extraordinary chef. “His dinners are even better. You can’t make a reservation here, and people wait for hours for one of his meals.”

“The food is outstandin’,” Bijou agreed. She sent him a little grin. “I have to admit, I love to eat good food.”

“That’s one of the hazards of bein’ from New Orleans. We love great food, music and fun.”

“Which means I have to work out daily,” Bijou said, “but if I can eat this kind of food, it’s well worth it.”

Remy’s gaze dropped to the package of threats. “You were tellin’ me why you suddenly, after all this time, became uneasy with these threats.”

Bijou made a face at him over her fork. “You’re like a pit bull.”

He nodded his head solemnly. “Proud of it too.”

“Bodrie owned several properties beside the mansion and I inherited those along with the copyrights to his music, his record label and everything else. One of the properties was a camp he liked to go to party.” She lifted her lashes and there was faint humor in her eyes. “Because, you know, he didn’t party enough at any of the hotels, his home or anywhere else.”

“Poor man. I can’t imagine Bodrie Breaux stayin’ for very long at a camp, even if he has every luxury. One swarm of mosquitoes and he’d be out of there.”