Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(19)

Ten minutes later, as dry as she could be because Andros, it seemed, did not own a hair dryer, she made her way back downstairs. The house, though large, wasn’t difficult to navigate, and she wasn’t surprised to see Andros stood at the large windows overlooking the front of the street in the living room. The very same one they’d f*cked in just last night. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his stance stiff.

What is he thinking?

She wished she knew.

He turned when she entered the room, and walked over to her. His hands threaded into her wet hair, and before she could so much as breathe he kissed her. It was a hard kiss, unforgiving. Lyra melted a little into his arms from the force of it.

When they broke apart both were panting, and Lyra realized, tilting her head to look into his eyes, Andros was kinda mad.

“I have arranged a home for you,” he snapped.

She raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been gone like a half hour.”

“People can be very efficient when I ask them to be.” He glared. “And I have many employees. The apartment you will be staying in is close to Chelsea. Is in a security-controlled complex, and has all the amenities you need on hand. My understanding is that many young professional women live there.”

Her head was spinning. Lyra took a step back, sinking into the wide couch. “You’re putting me in with a bunch of suits?” she asked, more because she didn’t know what else to say. Andros was giving her what she wanted. Letting the mission run its course. It was almost too much to comprehend.

“You’ll fit right in,” he said.

“Did you see what I was wearing last night?”

He glared some more. “My overwhelming memory is of you naked, which is why we’re doing this. I want you. I will have you. If this is the only way then so f*cking be it.”

Lyra swallowed unsteadily, her heart racing. So she’d baited and played enough to push him into her plan. It was a weird feeling. Part of her was thrilled, the other part ever so slightly scared. To be Andros Casstellini’s mistress…

“I plan to see you naked often,” he added.

“Then you’ve decided?” she whispered.

“I have. And there will be rules.”

“Rules?”

“If we are going to do this as you suggested.” He paused. “Then I want it all to be clear between us.”

“Okay.”

He paced in front of her, a scowl still on his face. “For as long as I want you will be mine, Lyra. I will have you when and how I want. I call and you come running, is that understood?”

“Of course.”

“There will be no other men. You will be mine and mine alone.”

“Obviously.”

“And in return,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “I will make sure you are comfortable. I will house you and spoil you, and you will be mine. But, and you need to be clear on this, you are not my girlfriend, I will not treat you as such.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Another glare. “And you will not become my wife. Do not imagine that you will soften me, that I will fall for you. You will not, there is no chance of that ever happening. I want to f*ck you, constantly, and I will, but that is all there is, or will be, between us.”

“I know.”

“We will have fun,” he added. “Do not doubt that.”

“So you…” She paused, wondering if there was even a need to ask what she’d been planning to ask. The answer was obvious wasn’t it?

“What?” he demanded. “Finish your sentence.”

“Had fun last night?”


He stopped his pacing, and laughed, actually laughed. The sound made her stomach clench, and Lyra sighed a little inside. He was very attractive when he laughed, when he smiled—hell, he was all round super-hot. There was nothing about him that she could pick out as a flaw.

“Lyra,” he said. “You are quite something.”

She grinned, his smile suddenly making her feel a million times lighter. “Why thank you, Andros. I had a wild time last night.”

The smile remained. Lyra preferred it immensely to the scowl, or the glare for that matter. “So your list has been met?” he asked.

“Uh huh. You’re dynamite in the sack. Don’t tell me a gal has never told you that.”

“Not in so many words.”

“Well I will then. You, Andros Casstellini, know how to f*ck.”

He shook his head, and joined her on the couch. Close, too close. Lyra’s breath caught in her throat, and her nipples hardened. How she wanted him.

“So blunt,” he whispered, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

“I always am, Andros,” she replied slowly. “I can’t help it, never have been able to. It got me into so much trouble when I was at school. Detention after detention for speaking my mind.”

“And college?” he asked.

She shook her head, her school grades—painfully bad grades—flashing through her mind. There had been no time to study, not when she had Penny and Rachel to look after, to keep safe. “Not a place I ever went.”

“So up until now what is it you have been doing with yourself?”

“You want my life story?”