Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(28)

“Take the money,” he insisted when he pulled back.

“But—”

“You can buy us dinner. How does that sound?”

It was easy after that to simply nod her head, and hand in hand they walked up the alley to Benny’s. Lyra wasn’t sure what made her turn around, but she did, and Andros’ driver was right behind them.

There was a queue in the shop. Late night revelers, people just grabbing a takeaway. A bunch of the woman turned and gave Andros admiring glances, but few of the men turned to her. Rich men, that was what she attracted. For some reason her looks worked on them, especially the blue bloods. But everyday kind of guys, like the ones in the queue? Like the ones on her estate? They barely gave her a second look. Either they thought her too out of their league, or they were put off by her beauty.

It was something Lyra had lamented to her sisters more than once. How was she supposed to get herself a boyfriend when no one tried to chat her up? And oh, she had so wanted a boyfriend for so long. A settled kind of guy who would excite her, look after her, cuddle her when she was cold, rub her back when she had her period.

Before the mission and Andros, she’d made every attempt to find someone, but nothing had ever come of it. Perhaps that was why she’d been so intent on changing her mission parameters and having some fun with the Sicilian. Because she’d known he would fancy her. Because he was rich, because he was arrogant, and fit enough himself not to be daunted by her.

That was something to think about at some point.

They made it to the front of the queue after a minute or so. Lyra eyed the menu greedily, her stomach flipping in knots as she planned what to get. “Do you want to share a bucket?”

“A bucket?”

“Yeah.” She pointed to the top of the menu glowing on the wall. “Look, it has twelve pieces of chicken, beans, gravy, fries and corn on the cob.”

“Twelve pieces of chicken?”

“Yes, but I warn you, I’m going to want at least half of them.”

“Whatever you want.”

Lyra ordered the bucket, paid for it with Andros’ money, and led them over to one of the bar tables against the window. Andros carried over their drinks, two cokes, and she the bucket. Once they were seated, she pulled the food out and spread it before them, the delicious smell of chicken making her feel ever so slightly faint.

She did not pause before eating, and did not stop until her stomach was near bursting. Andros seemed to be equally as content to simply tuck into the fried chicken, and as Lyra watched him, she couldn’t help but be struck by how odd the situation was.

Andros Casstellini, Sicilian tycoon, billionaire media magnate, sat in a fried chicken house with the woman who had schemed to become his mistress. It was so f*cking surreal.

“I will be visiting here again,” he proclaimed the moment the last of the chicken was gone. “In fact I am already considering how I can move this business closer to my home.”

“Leave it where it is,” Lyra scolded. “Lots of people like eating here. It’s not just for you.”

He reached out and took her hand, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist. “True, but once I want something…”

“You get it,” she finished for him, and he nodded.

Then, right there in the chicken house, and before she could think to stop him, he took her index finger and licked along it, sucking the chicken grease off. It should have skeeved her out, but it so did not. When he did the same to her next finger Lyra’s * clenched, and her nipples hardened.

Desire filled her. Swift and shocking. Like a sucker punch to the gut, it was now all she could think about.


“I think I had enough,” she whispered.

He smiled that amazing smile of his, and licked his lips. Christ.

“Time to go home, Rossa.”





Chapter Fourteen



Monday morning and Andros arrived at his office early. He had a full day ahead of him, including a trip to Bristol, so needed to maximize his time. He’d left Lyra in bed, curled up once again, fast asleep. He hadn’t particularly wanted to leave her, would have liked to have shaken her awake and buried himself in her all over again—just as he had all weekend—but there was much to be done, and only so much time.

He turned on his laptop, and got to work answering critical emails. The morning hours passed by quickly, with more emails, phone calls, and meetings with his support staff. It was lunchtime before he had a moment to think. He thought of her and checked his wristwatch. He had an hour before he needed to head to Bristol, why not take care of the plans he’d considered over the weekend, and made on the drive in?

He strode out of his office, nodding at his assistant Marjorie. “Are you busy?”

She raised an eyebrow, and placed her tablet on her desk. “I’m always busy, Andros. Everyone in this office is busy.”

He looked around the spacious room, catching a smile or two. He had a very good relationship with his support team. They sat together in the large open plan office outside of his own space, and every one of them would be bluntly honest with him if required.

“It’s because our boss is a slave driver.”

This came from Ricardo, a young Italian graduate, who had risen through the ranks of Andros’ company with startling speed.

“You look like you have time on your hands, Ricky,” Andros said slowly. “Your inbox looks distinctly empty.” He smiled wickedly. “Might as well pick up the Ainsley project.”