Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(42)

How she nodded, Lyra was not sure. “Of course.”

“I have enjoyed our time together.”

Enjoyed. She looked down at her hands and was surprised to see them perfectly steady. “Of course.”

Silence held between them for a moment. It was Andros who broke it, and when he did, there was an odd note to his voice. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

She shrugged, a tiny movement, but Lyra wasn’t sure that anything more would work. Despite her own little internal dose of reality, she was feeling…what? Unsteady? Deflated? She was not sure. Couldn’t work it out with Andros sat right across from her, his eyes boring into her, his body so close.

“What would you like me to say?” she asked.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded.

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “Maybe just wondering where this came from. But then…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter really does it? The choice is yours and so…I guess I should pack my things.”

She made to stand, but he spoke quickly, his words holding her in place. “You are a beautiful woman, Lyra. Too beautiful perhaps. A man could so easily drown in your eyes.”

“I—”

“And that, right there, is the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I am not a man who will allow himself to do so,” Andros snapped. “Not now. Not ever.”

“I never asked you to.”

“Only sometimes such things are impossible to avoid.”

He scowled before standing up and moving across the room. In a way, his movements reminded her of the previous night. The same tension, the same heavy emotions in the air, only that couldn’t be right, could it, because he was letting her go.

Not now. Not ever.

Maybe she’d confused jealousy with something else? Maybe it had been about the possession all along? Nothing more than that. Lyra didn’t know. She knew only that a nasty sort of lump was forming in her throat, that her chest felt tight, and it was becoming vital that she leave. Immediately.

“Then I shall get out of your hair,” she said, standing too, and holding her robe tight around her body.

“Do not be hasty,” he said. “The apartment is yours until you have secured somewhere else to live. All of the clothes and such yours too.”

Lyra swallowed and spoke the next words even though she didn’t want to, even though something that felt suspiciously like pride was telling her no, but there was more than just herself to think of. There always had been. Pride counted for very, very little in the end. “And the jewels?”

He nodded. “All of it.”

“Thank you.”

“And lastly we spoke, did we not, of an end…gift?”

Lyra shook her head automatically. The jewels would get her the money she needed for the building work on The Point. She did not need to take any more. Pride? No. Something else in fact. Something that Lyra did not want to admit to. “There is no need.”

“It was our agreement,” Andros insisted.

“Yes, but…” She shook her head some more. “I expected our arrangement to last a lot longer.”


“How long, Lyra?” he asked.

“I do not know,” she admitted. “Longer than this is all. It would not feel right taking anything else from you.”

“Then take this at least. I meant to give it to you last night.”

He stepped forward, dropping a box into her hand. It was small, and blue, and stamped with a familiar name. “Is it…”

“Yes, the bracelet to match the set,” Andros said. “I wanted you to have them all.”

“I…I…”

“Flashes of fire,” he whispered, and the lump in Lyra’s throat seemed to expand to alarming proportions.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “It is my pleasure. Now come, kiss me goodbye.”

“You’re leaving right now?” she asked, taking an automatic step forward. It closed the distance between them so that their bodies were mere inches apart. Lyra could smell whatever he’d showered in, that scent that forever would make her think of him. He had a smattering of stubble along his jaw, and she knew it would darken by the time evening drew in.

You’ll never get to see that again.

Her stomach lurched.

“I have a flight in less than an hour,” Andros said.

“You’re leaving the country?” she asked, her mind spinning, unable to really comprehend this was happening. That everything had gone wrong so quickly.

“I am returning home for a number of weeks.”

“I see.”

He reached up and ran a hand along her cheekbone, before leaning in and placing a kiss on her parted lips. Lyra shivered at the contact, knowing it would be the last, and feeling her chest tighten unbearably at the thought.

“I would ask if you will miss me, Lyra,” he whispered. “But I suspect the answer is not one I want to hear right now.”

“You should never assume, Andros.”

“Then tell me,” he said, taking a step back, putting the distance between them again. “Will you miss me?”

Lyra’s hand tightened around the jeweler’s box, and she exhaled shakily, the lie leaving her lips far easier than she imagined it would. “I’m not sure I’ll miss something I never really had.”