Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(45)

Her cell vibrated in her bag. Lyra grabbed it quickly. It was one of the contractors, something about a rusting pipe. She dealt with him, before dropping the clunky cell back in her cavernous bag. She missed her iPhone. It had been so sleek and cool, but also far too expensive. She’d sold it not long after leaving the apartment, replacing it instead with a cheap, generic handset that worked just fine and cost very little. Hell, she’d sold practically everything Andros had bought for her. The Mac, the cell, the clothes…even the flashes of fire…and if it had hurt to hand those exquisite pieces over, Lyra would admit that to no one. They were just stones and metal. They didn’t really mean anything in the end. Only the money she’d managed to get counted….it was always about the money….it had to be!

But, God, how she missed him.

“Miss Matthews…Lyra…”

Lyra paused with her on the double doors to see Dominic Rimeria prowling over. Not wanting another confrontation with the man, she glared, before pushing through the doors, and heading off in the direction of the Tube.

“I’ll follow if need be.”


His voice, that accent so like Andros’, halted her, and Lyra swiveled round. Dominic was pushing through the doors and striding over. What Rachel saw in him Lyra did not know. He was far too stern for her taste, and those eyes of his. She frowned as a pair of chocolate brown eyes, full of secrets and desire, immediately replaced them.

Andros’ eyes.

Her heart clenched a little, and she immediately pasted a fake smile on her face, flicking her hair behind her shoulder as she did so.

“What do you want?” she demanded, aware that she was taking her scratchy feelings out on Dominic.

He scowled, glared, and then scowled some more. “I need to know why you told me about the pregnancy. I have to know that before I go to see Rachel.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” he said. “So speak.”

God, she hated demanding men. One day, she decided, she’d find herself a nice, biddable man, one who would agree with everything she said and say very little back. One who wouldn’t leave her heartsore and teary eyed.

“Don’t try and boss me around, sweetheart, it only angers me.”

Dominic glared. So did she.

Eventually he gritted his teeth. “Please.”

Lyra sighed, heaved her bag a little higher, and then spoke truthfully—because in this, her sister’s relationship, and the baby she carried—only the truth was good enough. “None of us knew our fathers.”

Dominic scowled, just like he had in his office when she’d explained about Rachel’s upbringing. He did not like realizing he’d been wrong about her motivations. Lyra had enjoyed seeing him squirm. “I see.”

“They were simply….absent figures in our lives,” she continued. “None of us even knows what a father is supposed to be like. And Rachel would have felt that keenly with her baby. She wanted you to know.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Lyra nodded. She knew her sister well. “I’m sure. Rach just didn’t know how to go about it.”

“Well,” he said. “I thank you for telling me.”

“You better thank me by doing right by my sister,” Lyra snapped. “Hurt her again and I will make you pay.”

“My relationship with Rachel is none of your business,” Dominic snapped back.

“You have no idea how wrong you are.”

He glared some more, Lyra flicked her hair back again, giving him a taunting look. He deserved it for hurting Rachel already…though it was true that Rachel had also been at fault. Regardless, he needed to understand that such behavior would be unacceptable in the future. And if she was pushing him because she’d like to be pushing someone else, well no one could prove it, and Lyra would be damned if she’d ever admit it.

“I would love to meet the man who manages to tame you,” Dominic grated.

“You and me both, sugarplum,” Lyra said but her words felt like a lie, because she’d already met him hadn’t she, and his name was Andros Casstellini.





Chapter Twenty-Four



Andros could not quite believe what he was seeing. In fact, he blinked once, and then again, just to be sure, but the image in front of him did not disappear.

Lyra. Lyra!

She stood across the street, by the entrance to the office building directly opposite him, the headquarters of one Dominic Rimeria, a longtime acquaintance of his. The other man was Italian, so they shared a language and a heritage, and their bank accounts were almost identical. Both men were rich beyond belief. Worse, Rimeria was one of the few billionaires in London as young as he, and as ruthless in his private life. What the hell was Lyra doing outside of his building? And…as Andros shifted position, his heart thudded and his gut clenched…what the f*ck was Rimeria doing was with her?

The answer came to him immediately. Stood close together, their gazes locked, an intensity he didn’t understand arching between them, it was obvious. Rage exploded, and it was visceral, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

His chest ached in a way Andros did not understand, and before he knew what he was doing, he was striding across the street, his eyes narrowed on them both, his anger ridiculously out of proportion. It felt almost like it had at Club Belmont, when he’d realized exactly what Lyra was doing to him.