Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (16 page)

Which
left just her. She broke a piece of cheese bread off and dropped it on the
ground for the wandering pigeons. When would her mission come to an end, she
wondered? Another week, two? There was no way to tell, and though Lyra wanted
it to go on as long as possible, she knew that in another couple of weeks she
would have to ask Andros for the money for
The
Point
if she was still with him.

Would
he give it to her?

She
suspected he would. It was such a small amount, to him at least.

Though
how he would feel about the whole thing she did not know. More than that, she
was not sure how she felt about it all. Being with him was like something out
of a dream. The sex, the conversations, the simple pleasure of lying in his
arms. Lyra did not want it to end, not for quite some time, and yet she knew
that, inevitably, it would. When it did, she would have important things to be
doing. Getting
The Point
up and
running. Helping the people in their area. Spending time with her sisters
again.

She
sighed, and threw the last of the bread at the pigeons. They pecked at it
greedily, one, then two, then three of them all sharing the same bit.

Three.

The
three sisters.

 
Lyra took a deep swallow of water, and frowned
at the sudden tightness in her chest. She missed Penny and Rachel so much.
They’d never spent this much time apart. More than once she had been tempted to
return to their little flat and see if Penny had returned, maybe even Rachel
too. But they’d agreed early on that none would return to their home until the
missions were complete. It was almost their incentive.
You can’t see each other again until you get the swag.

That
needed to be soon.

The
clock was ticking hard.

Only
Lyra didn’t want it to be. She wanted it to pause, for the bubble she and
Andros had created to remain perfectly in place for as long as possible.
Wishful thinking
, she thought.
Reaching past the stars now
.

That
was the thought that haunted her as she returned to the apartment, and would
continue to do so over the next few days.

Chapter Eighteen

Several
days later Andros—with Lyra welded to his side—approached the entrance to Club
Belmont. It was lit up with a number of oil lamps and the doors were painted
very deep red. The doors only changed to that color when the annual party was
in full swing, and as a member Andros had been invited to attend. Ordinarily he
would not have bothered, but part of him was ever so slightly nostalgic to
return to the scene of his initial meeting with Lyra. Then too was the fact
that he expected to meet a couple of business acquaintances, and the food was
always a big draw.

Partners
were invited to the annual party, one of the few occasions when the wives and
such actually turned out. It had not occurred to Andros to leave Lyra at home,
and once again she looked drop dead gorgeous. Part of him wanted to order her
back into the car, spirit her home, and fuck her until she passed out. The
other part was ridiculously proud to have such a woman on his arm…that part was
not as strong, it couldn’t be; he was too territorial for that to be the case.

“Wow,”
Lyra said as they made their way up the carpeted entrance. “Some of these women
have brought out the big guns.”

She
nodded at a middle-aged woman who was wrapped in a fur stole and dripping with
diamonds.
 

“You
are sparkling yourself.”

She
grinned. “I know.
My
diamonds are
amazing, and I bet that’s real fur. Bitch.”

“We
have discussed your views on this and I more than agree. Let us discuss your
outfit instead,” he said as he escorted her inside. Her hand was on his arm,
and she seemed to glide along next to him as if it was all perfectly normal for
her to do so. It made him ache in a way he didn’t quite understand. “I’m not
sure I approve of your dresses.”

“This
one is perfectly decent,” Lyra sighed as he nodded to the doorman. “It comes to
my ankle for cripes’ sake.”

“It
has a huge split up the thigh.”

Lyra
looked down –as if checking that was the case, then shot him a smile. “Oh my
gosh, it does as well. I wonder whose hand will be making their way into that
slit later?”

He
grinned despite himself. “I shall rip it the entire length. Not only will that
give me the access I desire, but it will ensure you cannot wear this out
again.”

“You’re
so heavy handed,” she teased. “You said I could pick whatever clothes I wanted
and I did.”

“And
they suit you perfectly,” he said, stepping a little closer to her as they made
their way to the bar. “Too perfectly…but then there are the heels to consider.”

“The
heels—”

“Andros?”

Lyra’s
words halted as a very uppercut accent hit. Andros turned her towards the man
who owned it, and moved through the crowd until they were at the bar. Lord
Ainsley sat on almost the very same stool Lyra had been sitting on when he’d
first seen her, and Andros remembered suddenly how the other man had intended
to chase Lyra himself. The thought annoyed him, made him aware all over again
how desirable his mistress really was.
   

“Ainsley,”
Andros said slowly. “I did not expect you to be here.”

“Wasn’t
sure if you’d actually show,” the British man replied, before swiveling
slightly, and fixing his eyes on Lyra. Andros felt her stiffen slightly next to
him and pulled her a little closer—though in truth there wasn’t a whole lot of
room between them left. “I knew you’d had the invite,” Carl added. “But you
hardly ever attend these events, though I thought I’d try my luck.”

“You
wished to see me?” Andros asked. “You have my personal number.” He’d given it
to Carl when they’d closed their deal, and all had been moving along fine up
until now. “Ricardo has been working on your project also.”

Carl
nodded, waving a hand. “Yes, he’s great, very smart. But I hoped to see you,
only not for business reasons. Mainwright is here; he was asking about our
deal. I only found out this afternoon,” he added when Andros moved to speak.
“You know he’d offered me the funding months ago but I have no interest in
working with him. He’s got the bit in his teeth about whether you’re involved.
I had no idea what to tell him—wasn’t sure about our disclosure agreements—but
be aware he’ll find you before the night is out and he will ask.”

Andros
shrugged. He was no fan of Walter Mainwright either. The man was seventy if he
was a day, owned half of London, and did not like foreigners intruding on his
turf. It would amuse Andros to let the older man stew a little before telling
him exactly how the land lay.

 
“He is welcome to do so,” Andros said. “It
will be my pleasure to ensure he has all the facts.”

Carl
grinned. “Splendid, I shall leave it in your capable hands! Now are you going
to introduce me to your lovely friend?”

Andros
gritted his teeth as he made the introductions, his gut tightening as Carl took
Lyra’s petite hand in his and smiled down at her. He made some sort of joke
about redheads and Club Belmont, and Lyra laughed slightly, her grip on him
relaxing.

“I
shall forgive you for refusing my offer of a drink,” Carl teased as he finished
the joke.
 
“All those weeks ago.”

“I
was waiting for someone,” Lyra replied.

Carl
shot him an envious look. “Of course.”

Another
set of acquaintances approached their group, and Andros was soon caught up in a
conversation with a lord and his horse-faced wife. As he spoke, he was more
than aware that Ainsley was regaling Lyra with more jokes, and some sort of story
involving his family castle, and an overflowing moat. She laughed softly next
to him, tilted her head in that way of hers, her red hair glinting in the
light.

Andros
turned slightly, and was unsurprised to see a group of men—many of them
elderly—crowding around his mistress. Anger hit and he clenched his fists. Did
they not realize she was his?

“Come,”
he said, taking her hand. “Dinner is about to be served.”

Lyra
extracted herself with a charming smile, but it did nothing to ease the ache in
his gut, and that in itself annoyed Andros in a way he couldn’t understand.
Yes, he was possessive and competitive by nature—had Lyra not used that to
ensure her position in his life? But it seemed to Andros as he guided them to
their table, that it was out of proportion to the situation. After the weeks
they’d spent together, many of them out in public, he should have been used to
the attention Lyra received. It should not bother him as much as it did…and
yet…

Dinner
passed quickly and was followed by speeches from the Club chairman and his
assistant. Andros only half listened to it all. He kept his gaze on Lyra,
alternating between the ridiculous possessiveness he felt, and a hard on that
was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. By the time everything was wrapped
up and people drifted towards the bar Andros was ready to leave.

“I
need to use the ladies’,” Lyra said, as they left their table.

“Be
quick,” he grated.

She
paused and titled her head, before grinning. “Of course, lover.” Then she
leaned up, so that her mouth was a mere inch from his ear, and whispered, “The
heels you mentioned?
 
I’m going to fuck
you in them. Them and nothing else.”

His
dick thickened. “I will spank your pretty little ass until you beg me to take
them off.”

“Promises,
promises.”

Andros
watched her walk away. She sashayed her hips as she moved, and several men
turned to get a good look. He would not be bringing her here again, he decided.
Another rush of anger and possessiveness filling him. In fact, he would cease
these social occasions altogether. Had she not said that she did not require
them? Far simpler to simply keep her in the apartment, away from men like
Ainsley, men who could so easily have been him.

It
was then that Andros realized where the anger had come from, and he inhaled
sharply, the realization flooding him with a force he did not like. Lyra had
picked him out for a very specific purpose. She had her list of what she
expected, what she wanted, and he simply happened to fit it. Fact was, though,
any of these other men could have been on that list if they were a little
richer, looked a little different.
She could be any of
these men’s mistress if she desired…
Dios
,
perhaps in the future she would be. When the time came for them to part ways.

That
thought was unacceptable but inescapable.

Ten
minutes later Andros completed a circle of the room, arrived at the desk where
all those weeks ago he’d pried information about her from the doorman, and
waited for Lyra to re-emerge. A moment later and he saw her, that bright red hair
of hers a beacon for anyone looking. Andros made to step forward, intending to
meet her at the bar, when a voice intruded.

“A
beautiful girl.”

He
growled and turned to look into a pair of eyes he had always considered to be
distinctly reptilian. “Mainwright.”

The
elderly Peer nodded. “Seems you’re punching above your weight with that one. A
bit too feisty for the likes of you.”

“If
I require your thoughts on my personal life I will ask for them.”

Mainwright
grinned. “I’m sure you will, but humor an old man.”

“I
would hardly call you that.”

“Perhaps
not, so let us say instead that I make it my business to know about my
competitors.”

“Is
that what I am?” Andros asked, frowning hard as Lyra halted at the bar. What
was she doing?

“It
seems so,” Mainwright agreed. “You moved in on Ainsley’s deal.”

“He
invited me in,” Andros grated. Lyra was talking to someone. Who the hell was
it? “And I have no interest in discussing my business dealings with you.”

“Then
let us discuss something else,” Mainwright said, his tone taking on a whole new
meaning, that even in his distracted state Andros picked up on. “Have you met
that young lady’s sisters yet?”

Shock
hit, enough so that Andros tore his gaze away from Lyra. Lyra who was talking
to the fucking bar man it seemed! “Her sisters?”

“Equally
as beautiful,” Mainwright said, the gloating in his voice obvious. “It seems
they too like their…companions…foreign and rich.”

So
Mainwright had investigated Lyra, knew what her sisters were doing, and by the
sounds of it whatever it was it wasn’t far from what Lyra was up to. Only
Mainwright had no way to know that Lyra had already told him about her
circumstances. Had no way to know about the deal they had agreed.

“We
have an advantage over the homegrown wealth,” Andros snapped. “As you have no
doubt become aware.”