Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(32)

“This is…”

“It is flashes of fire,” he said. “Just like you.”

Flashes of fire. Bigger heart thumps. Lyra met his gaze and what she saw there made her melt. How could one man be so gorgeous? And he was hers. For this little space of time, this incredibly good looking, talented, man was hers. It was a weird feeling. Sometimes Lyra had trouble believing it had come together, that her plotting and planning had worked.

“It’s more than that,” she said, reaching out to touch the diamonds. “So much more. It’s beautiful.”

“I was inspired.”

“I love it.”

“So I can contact you,” he said, his tone serious, and Lyra laughed, just as he’d wanted her to, the tension—where had it come from?—dissipating slightly, but not completely. Because even as the diamonds winked and blinked, cool beneath her fingers, making her want to sigh, Lyra was torn between two thoughts.


One, this was not an official mistress gift. Andros had not bought it for her because he needed to call her, or wanted her to have things to do. He’d bought it because he wanted her to have it—for whatever reason that might be.

Two, and though it killed her a little to admit it, it was expensive, very expensive. The jewelers in question sold only high end products. These diamonds were flawless. And as much as Lyra loved the thought of wearing it against her skin, she couldn’t help but be thinking exactly what the resale value was likely to be and how that might contribute to the end goal. The end of the game.

The mission.

The Point.





Chapter Sixteen



A week and a half later and Andros was finishing up yet another meeting. For some reason they had been constant of late, more constant, at least, than he liked. This one in particular had been trying. He’d met with a group of youngsters who were trying to convince him to invest in their website. It was a novel idea, but they were so green he didn’t know if he could bear it. Worse they’d taken him to a God awful, trendy restaurant, and he frowned as he extracted himself from the group, intending to make his way to the bar in the other side of the building, down a much needed drink, then head on home.

Home or Lyra’s?

He frowned some more as he waved his goodbyes to the eager youngsters, strode over to the bar, and gestured to the man behind it. The service in this part of the business was significantly better, and Andros gave his order, settled on to a bar stool and took a deep breath.

Lyra…

He’d spent every night with her since the first night, and it seemed like it was more than several days. The days had bled together and it felt almost like Lyra being part of his life was something that had been in place for months. It had become perfectly natural for him to finish up his day and then head to her apartment, where she pleasured him in ways he could not describe.

More than that, though, they talked. She was smart and funny, and she obviously spent a great deal of time on her tech, because she was full of thoughts and opinions. What did he think of this news story, what were his thoughts on this new government policy, did he know that this country was in the middle of a coup? He found it refreshing in the extreme to hear her opinions, to speak with someone outside of his close circle. It was all so f*cking confusing! Never had he spent so much time with one woman. Never had he felt the need to constantly do so.

He found himself thinking about her at odd moments. Wondering what she was up to. Texting and emailing her to ascertain her whereabouts. More often than not, she was in the apartment, surfing the net, watching a movie. Other times she wandered the area. Down to the park, across to the market. She did not shop properly as far as he could tell, despite the fact he’d had her cards delivered with huge limits against them. And she never mentioned seeing anyone outside of him. He wondered if she met with her sisters, or any of her friends, but she never spoke of it, and he did not ask.

They were in a bubble.

A bubble that held just the two of them.

Twice she’d greeted him with a meal waiting, and though the food had been…less than appetizing…Andros had found himself eating it anyway. Wanting to please her.

Like she pleased him.

Fuck.

Never had he been so confused. He had no idea what to make of the situation.

“Let me get that for you?”

Andros turned, pulled from his turbulent thoughts, to see a blonde next to him. She was smiling and flicking her hair. Lyra flicked her hair. It was one of her little gestures; she did it often.

“Excuse me?”

“The drink,” the blonde said. “I’d like to buy it for you.”

Andros frowned. “And why would you wish that?”

“So we could drink together,” she said, her smile widening.

A come on. His frown deepened even as a memory nudged him. He’d seen this woman before. “Have we met?”

“At Mark’s party,” she said, her smile widening even more if that was possible. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”

She’d chased him all night. Of course he remembered. “I do indeed remember,” he said quickly. “And I prefer to buy my own drinks.”

“Why?” she asked. “You’re here alone.”

She moved closer, her hand settling on his arm. The nails were glinting in the light, fake probably, like her hair and her tits. He growled. Lyra was perfectly real in every way, so why would this woman even assume he would be interested?