Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(12)

“As you should.”

He pulled his hand back, leaving her cheek feeling like it was aflame. More than just her cheek though, she felt hot everywhere. She wanted to feel Andros’ tanned hands on her. She imagined him running his fingers down her chest, tracing a trail to her nipples. God, they were hard, she could feel them scraping against the fabric of her dress.

“The question I now have to ask myself is why you sought me out specifically, Lyra,” Andros said slowly. “Why, somehow, you managed to fix the system at Club Belmont, and yourself, to attract my attention.”

“You assume it was all for you?”

He shrugged, the gesture so male, so assuming. “I know it was. I am asking you a question I already know the answer to, but like you I want an answer just as you wanted one from me.”

“You see what I mean about arrogance.”

“It is justified.”

“Indeed it is and there is your answer.”

“Elaborate.”

She sighed, propping her chin on her hand. Her fingers lay on the spot that Andros had caressed and it felt ridiculously warm to her. Though maybe that was just a fancy? “Let’s pretend it’s Regency times, Andros,” she said. “Let’s pretend I’m a genteel, but impoverished, woman who is looking for a protector.”

“And you wish this protector to be me?”

“I figured I would reach for the stars.”

“Because you always get the moon if that fails?”

“Precisely.”

“That I do not doubt.” He paused. “Lord Carl Ainsley would have been your protector in a flash.”

“He does not interest me,” she said.

“He is rich.”

“Not as rich as you.”

Andros laughed, probably because it was so true. “Few people are.”

“And besides I don’t simply want a protector for his money,” Lyra said honestly. After all, she could have just robbed him if that was the case.

“Then what else?” he asked.

“You would like a list?”

“Of course.”

And she had that list. Had made it the moment she and her sisters had conceived their plan. It was easy to rattle it off now and Lyra did, wondering exactly what Andros would think when he heard it. “Okay. He has to be attractive. And not just mildly so. I’m talking about the sort of attractive that makes you wince when you pass a man in the street, makes you turn around along with every other woman and follow him with your eyes until he walks out of view.”

“And you would put me in that category?”

She rolled her eyes again. “You know you’re in it.”

“The rest of the list if you please.”

“The body has to match the face,” she continued. “Sculpted, toned, irresistible.”

“Continue.”

“And he has to be as hard as he is sexy.”

“Hard? Why?”

“Because, Andros, it is easy for a man to think himself in love with a woman who looks like I do. The first flash of lust confuses them. Before you know it they’re down on one knee begging you to marry them.”


Silence for a moment as he was digesting her words, and when he spoke his accent was so thick it made Lyra’s thighs clench. She couldn’t help but imagine him whispering filth to her in that voice.

“And you are not a marrying kind of girl.”

“Absolutely not,” she said.

“And you want a man who thinks alongside the same lines.”

“Precisely.”

Another moment of silence and Lyra waited. It all hung in the balance now, so she could do nothing else. Her position was clear. Question was, would Andros go for the bait?

“Well,” he said eventually and her heart raced in her chest. “It seems, Lyra Matthews, that you have found him.”





Chapter Six



The drive back to Andros’ home was tense, much more so than the short drive to the restaurant had been. The car was practically thrumming with the awareness between them, and it took everything he had to keep his hands, and his mouth, to himself. But Andros knew he had to play it right, to grab at some sort of patience.

Lyra was sat next to him, seemingly serene. Her hands were placed on her lap, her legs crossed, and she was looking out of the window at the passing scenery. Only the windows were tinted, so there was little to see. He paused; maybe she was not so serene after all.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked softly.

“To my home—one of them at least,” he said, though really they should be going to a hotel. He never took women back to his town house, only he didn’t think he could last out the time to get to a hotel, and besides, he wanted no distractions. Just him and her, and the pleasure they were going to give each other.

“You live alone,” she said. Andros could tell by the tone of her voice that it was not a question.

“I do.”

“No staff.” Again it was not a question.

“Not live in,” he replied.

“Ah.”

He shifted in his seat as he considered how she knew his living arrangements, the issue with the register prodding him again. But desire was clouding his brain, making it difficult to consider all the little warning signs which said quite clearly that his meeting with Lyra was not by chance. It was arranged by her for a very specific reason.