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

She laughed and crossed her legs, smirking inwardly as she imagined Mr. Moneyed Blond, and all the other men who’d offered her drinks, watching and wishing. They were always wishing. It amused her to let them, would have done so even if she wasn’t here on a very specific mission, for a very specific man.

“Gosh, Mitch,” she sighed, unable to resist flirting a little with him. “I am all agog to hear how you worked that one out.”

He grinned, clearly not taking offence at her snarky words. “The outfit.”

“What of it?”

“It screams pick up.”

“In what way?”

Mitch grabbed a glass and a rag in the very typical bartender action. The rag was pristine white, and the glass was already sparkling, but he rubbed inside of it as he lounged against the taps and smiled at her. “The dress is just short enough to show some leg but not so short that it makes you look like a slut. The cleavage? Again, just a hint but not too much, and those heels.” He shook his head. “God knows how you can even walk in them.”

“Perhaps I always dress like this?”

“Nope. I’ve tended this bar since I started my undergrad studies and I’m doing my post grad now. That long in one job?” He shrugged. “You become a sort of people watcher when you spend so long in one place. It helps to alleviate the boredom. So I’ve been watching you since you came in and I got it immediately.”

“What did you get?”

“You’re here to pick someone up, but not the men who have tried to pick you up. It’s someone else.”

Lyra smiled. Mitch was perceptive, but she had been silly not to consider the fact that he might be. Had she not done enough menial, mind numbingly boring jobs to remember how she’d kept herself entertained? Like Mitch, people watching was one of the possibilities and—she paused, shooting him a look—it was something she could use to her advantage if she played the situation right.

“Okay let’s say you’re right. I could ask you a few questions, then.”

“Shoot.”

“Andros Casstellini.” Two words and the reaction from the man behind the bar was exactly as she suspected. He whistled low under his breath, and shook his head.

“You’re not serious?”

“Sweetie, I always am.”

“That is one big fish you’re trying to catch.”

Lyra grinned. “Always go for the biggest is my motto. That way at least you might end up with something in the middle.”

“My mom used to say something like that. Reach for the stars and at the least you’ll hit the moon.”

“Exactly.”

Mitch placed the sparkling glass next to all the other sparkling glasses, and picked up a frosted tumbler. “So does he know you’re trying to catch him?”

Lyra tilted her head, considering Mitch’s phrase. She wasn’t trying to catch Andros in that sense, because she was so not stupid enough to think a man like him would allow a woman like her to do so. She’d more than done her homework on Andros Casstellini, the sisters had all thoroughly researched their marks, and the woman who eventually caught the brooding Sicilian would be a dark haired heiress, or an icy blonde socialite. She would not be a redheaded girl from the wrong side of the tracks.


No…she wasn’t looking to catch, just to bait him. To put him in the position where she could get what she wanted. Lyra could hardly explain that to the bartender though, so instead she smiled, and shook her head. “Not yet.”

“You won’t be the first or even the only one right now.”

“I know that.”

“Coming here, though…” Mitch grinned. “Gotta give it to you, it’s a good idea. Most of the others chasing him never set foot through these doors. I’ve heard some stories, though. I keep track of our big clients, you know for future jobs and such. He has women practically throwing themselves at him. I heard that one even sent herself to his office, wrapped up like a present. She was inside. Naked.”

“A ballsy girl.”

“This move is just as ballsy.”

Lyra shrugged. “What can I say? I like to think outside the box, and I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.”

“How did you even manage to get membership? Someone has to recommend you.”

Lyra took a long swallow of her water, careful to ensure it didn’t rub her lip-gloss off. “I have my ways.”

“And those ways are?”

“Secret ways,” she said, the image of Little Micky—a hacker she’d known since she was a teenager—dancing through her mind. Micky had hit the membership database up only yesterday, and Lyra’s details would stay in there for at least seventy-two hours. That was how long it took Club Belmont to update their database from the main server, a ridiculously outmoded way of keeping their data secure, but then that was the old style gentleman clubs. Stuck way behind the times. Shitty security and worse, shitty policies.

Little Micky had—on her request—put her down as being recommended by Andros Casstellini himself, and yet even with that recommendation from one of the richest men in the country, she would only be allowed to visit for the next week. Not that she needed the full week. Andros had a meeting in—Lyra cast the rich oak clock over the bar a covert glance—a few minutes.