Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (Criminal Seduction #3)(7)
The trouble was they hadn’t considered other things.
Hadn’t realized that the moment she’d looked down at Andros’ picture her heart had skipped a beat, and her panties had drenched themselves. Fact of the matter was Lyra wanted some excitement, wanted to be chased by a man like Andros. Oh, she knew how important the mission was. She knew she had to get a set amount of money in order for the project to be completed, and she would—that was not in question—but Lyra saw absolutely no reason why she couldn’t have some fun at the same time.
Besides, she had never excelled at deception. She was too blunt, too honest, and too goddamn reckless. Penny could break into someone’s home and rob him blind. Rachel could use her virginal wiles to pick the pocket of every man in the room, but her? All she’d ever had was her looks, her explosive, ‘tie a man in knots’ beauty. In order to complete her mission Lyra had every intention of getting down and dirty. She was going to be perfectly honest about what she wanted, and at the end of it, she would make sure she got it. She might not be catching Andros like Mitch had said, but she was going to hold him on the end of her hook for as long as she possibly could…
“You’re looking very thoughtful there.”
She glanced up to see Mitch making his way over to her. His words were enough to clear her head, to stop over thinking, and Lyra laughed softly. “It’s almost show time.”
“That it is. He’s just stood up. He’s making his way over to Jeremy.”
“Jeremy?”
Mitch nodded, and pulled out a bottle of whisky. The label was peeling off it at the corners, probably because it was old. But then everything in Club Belmont was. The chairs, the glowing walnut wood around the bar, the rich bottles of wine. Everything but her, Mitch, the blond guy from the House of Lords, and him.
Andros Casstellini.
The man she had been lusting over for months. The man she’d fantasized about night after night. Plotting and planning and imagining.
“Jeremy is the guy who mans the stand over there,” Mitch said. “He’s been here forever, and even though we have a desk in the entrance hall now, they keep him on. I gave him some computer lessons last year. He has a little laptop hidden there now. Helps him keep track of things. He’s ancient.”
“That’s sweet, Mitch,” Lyra said with a smile. “Now, Andros?”
“He’s looking over here. He looks…tense.”
“Interesting,” she said because despite sitting as still as possible, just letting her foot flick back and forth, and smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, Lyra was super tense herself. She couldn’t help but be. Everything was on the line now and she had to admit, as the minutes ticked by, knowing that he was so close, she was more nervous than she’d imagined she would be.
“Fifteen minutes,” Mitch added, pulling out a tumbler for the whisky. “You were off a little, sweetheart.”
Lyra nodded at Mitch, and felt her heart race a little. “He’s coming over now?”
“Prowling is a word that springs to mind.”
“You win the bet then, I guess. I underestimated. That’s interesting, something to think about.”
He dropped two chunks of ice in the glass along with a splash of water. “How about we just call it even?”
“I never welsh on a bet.”
“Then how about you let me take you out some time instead? I may not be in Andros’ league but I know how to show a girl a good time.”
She tilted her head, considering his surprising offer. Mitch was exactly the sort of guy she should be dating. He worked an okay job, seemed nice enough, and she’d probably enjoy herself with him. But he wasn’t Andros. He wasn’t her mark, her mission, and she didn’t feel ever so slightly faint from looking at him. Still, Mitch had kept her company and she didn’t want to shoot him down, so she lied to him, just like she lied to them all. “After I’ve dealt with Andros I might do just that.”
He grinned even as he muttered, “Show time.”
“Espresso and whatever the lady is having.”
Andros’ voice was exactly as she’d imagined it to be. Low, rich, a hint of his Sicilian heritage edging the words. Lyra swallowed carefully, super aware of his presence behind her, and swiveled in her seat. This moment was very important and she knew it. Despite what people said, first impressions always were, they could never be done over. She had to make it count.
“Lady? I’ve never been called that before.”
Andros smiled slowly the moment their eyes met, and it took everything Lyra had to keep her cool. Dear God, he was so freaking gorgeous. His photos had not done him justice, not at all. In the flesh he was a zillion times more handsome. Black ‘stroke me’ hair, brown ‘eat me up’ eyes, tanned ‘run your fingers over it’ skin…that was plenty…but there was something else. Maybe it was the hardness of his jaw, the severe line of his lips, even the broad shoulders. Whatever. The fact of the matter was Andros was drop dead gorgeous, and already he was affecting Lyra in exactly the right way. Her heart raced, her fingers itched, and she was sure her nipples had hardened.
She wanted him more than she’d imagined she would and that was good. She’d counted on that being the case, because how could she go through with her plan if she didn’t?