Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(5)

“I don’t doubt it.”

“The amount is not an issue,” Andros said, lifting his espresso cup. “But I do want to know, why come to me with this? Your family has plenty of money, no? You were still on the Times Rich List last year, I noted.”

Carl’s grin widened. “The family certainly does not want for funds, that is true. But it is a different situation than you would find yourself in.”

“Explain.”

He shrugged. “Most of our money, the family’s I mean, is tied up into the estate. We have only specific amounts that we allow into creative ventures such as these. Whilst your funds…”

Andros nodded. “Are for me to use as I see fit.”

“Exactly. The joys of being a self-made man and not from old money.”

“I do not doubt that you will eclipse your family’s fortune in time,” Andros said and Carl smiled even as he shook his head.

“I’m not sure about that. I had some impressive ancestors.”

“Either way we will shake hands on this now, and arrange a meeting with my wider team next week to iron out the details.”

“Excellent.”

They clicked glass to espresso cup, and Andros leaned back in his chair again, satisfied to have the deal wrapped up in under ten minutes. Ainsley was a good man; they would work well together, and for once, he had a small window of free time. Andros took a small sip of the rich coffee and eyed the menu on the table. Did he have time enough to eat? Probably not, but one thing Club Belmont did do was decent food.

“Are you dining?” he asked Carl.

“Actually,” Carl said, downing the last of his whisky, and grinning. “I thought I’d follow up my initial offer, actually.”

“Offer?”

“Before you arrived I made my opening salvo. I think it is now time to make sure the lady in red does not refuse a second drink.”

Lady in red? Andros turned in his chair, following Carl’s gaze. It rested on a woman sat at the bar, her long, long legs crossed. One foot was dangling in midair, and attached to it was a shoe that made him raise an eyebrow. Bright, bright red, with a heel at least five inches in length, and deadly sharp at that. Those shoes shouldn’t have worked at all with her red hair, Andros thought, red hair that was pinned in an elaborate twist on top of her head, with just a few wavy strands falling down her back and shoulders. And the dress…he shifted a little now, the familiar ache in his groin grabbing his attention. It too was bright red, short but not too short, falling mid-thigh, and molded to every single curve.


Signora in Rosso…

“Beautiful, is she not?” Carl asked, and Andros nodded slowly.

She was gorgeous, stunning. After just a very brief look Andros knew that the entire package worked in every single way, and felt himself pause as he accepted that. Accepted the fact that he hadn’t seen anyone quite as sexy in a very long time, if ever.

How had he not noticed her the moment he entered the room? More to the point, what the hell was she doing here? Few women came to Club Belmont, and when they did, they never looked like her.

“Who is she?” he demanded.

Carl shrugged. “Not sure. She’s been here since I arrived what, about an hour ago? I noticed her the moment I came in.”

“She’s just been sat at the bar?” How could he have failed to notice her?

“Yes. It’s odd,” Carl said. “I’m not the first to have sent a drink over. James Withers and Peter Whitting Prior both sent her champagne—typical move on their part, never mind the fact that she is not the sort of girl to drink champagne—and she refused them regardless.”

“Why is she not the sort to drink champagne?” Andros asked, curious.

“Come on, old chap,” Carl laughed. “That is the sort of girl to have you downing Tequila and Sambuca, one after the other.”

“And yet she is here. Not the sort of place one can find such drinks.”

A pause and Carl frowned. “I never thought of that.”

“Perhaps she’s waiting for her husband?” Andros asked, shifting a little at that thought. He did not, as a rule, steal other men’s women. Such behavior was not something he would feel comfortable with, and why would he want a woman who would willingly drop a man she’d given vows to the moment another demanded? No, even for the lady in red he would not make that exception.

“Not a husband. She isn’t wearing a ring,” Carl said, and Andros was surprised by the relief those words made him feel. “She might have a boyfriend, though. I intend to find out either way.”

Andros shook his head slowly, and placed his cup down on the table. The decision, it seemed, already made. “I would prefer that you did not.”

Carl laughed softly. “Ah, of course. I should have known she would catch your eye.”

“Because of her beauty?”

“No, because there is something about her.” Carl paused for a moment, and drummed his fingers on the table. “I can’t work out what it is, but something is…unusual…”

Andros couldn’t help but agree. Apart from the body, and the hair, and the little he could see of her face, she did have an indescribable air to her. Her foot was dangling back and forth, her fingers tracing the outline of the frosted tumbler sat between her hands, and as he watched, she laughed softly at something the bartender said.