“Perhaps I would like to hear you say it?”
“I want you.”
She dipped her finger in her glass and placed it in her mouth. His cock thickened to the point where he worried it might explode.
“So blunt.”
“Do you need flowery words, Rossa?” Andros asked. “Like you needed all of this?” He waved a hand around the room, but she shook her head.
“I thought this would be nice,” she said. “Let the tension simmer a little before we give into it.”
“So we are going to give into it?”
“Of course we are, and I never need flowery words. I can’t stand men who lie and bullshit. Honesty is always my motto. I’d much rather you tell me as it is.”
He splayed his hands wide. “Then that is how it is. I want you. I wanted you the moment I turned around and saw you in the club. You are very sexy, unbelievably beautiful.”
“You want to take me home with you? Tonight?”
Want? He smiled, the anticipation clawing at him. There was no want about it. He would have her. Still, perhaps before he ran in dick first he should find out exactly how she felt, what she expected. That would be the smart thing to do and now was the time to do it. If he left it any longer…
“I do,” he stated, “and now, Lyra, it is time that you tell me exactly what it is that you want.”
Chapter Five
Lyra ran her finger along the edge of her wine glass. She’d never tasted wine quite like it, so rich and fruity. It was like a little taste of Andros’ world and already she wanted more. Wanted him.
And he wants you.
She smiled inwardly at that thought, and couldn’t stop her mind from skipping ahead to imagine exactly how that might unravel. But she hadn’t made all her moves yet, and she’d promised herself, hadn’t she?
Honesty.
Play it straight and see if he plays with.#p#分页标题#e#
So show time. Only she was nervous, more so than she had expected. After all, so much rested on the next few moments. Not just her family’s plans but hers also. So really, taking that into consideration, was it any wonder that her stomach was flipping, and her head spinning?
It all came down to this moment, and Lyra knew too that by taking the step she planned that she was risking everything they were trying to achieve. But also that it was unavoidable. For her this was the only way she could achieve her mission.
The only way to get what she wanted.
“My words have made you thoughtful,” Andros said.
Lyra smiled across at him, cheering a little inside as his gaze dropped to her mouth. She licked her lips, not to tempt him more, but because they were suddenly dry. His fist clenched on the table, and she shivered.
“They have.”
“Tell me.”
It was a command rather than a question. Despite the fact Lyra would have liked to wait just a few more moments, until her stomach settled at least, she knew she could not. Andros had indulged her with this dinner, but she suspected that indulgence was all but used up. So it was time. Deep breath.
“I was thinking,” she said slowly, “about a book I recently read.”
He laughed. The sound filled the space around them making Lyra’s stomach muscles clench. How was it possible that even his laugh was attractive?
“Politics, books, there is more to you than meets the eye, I suspect. Though I cannot help but think I must be losing my touch if you’re thinking about books.”
“I doubt that.”
“Hmmm…well come,” he said. “It relates in some way, no? So tell me about this book.”
This was it. Lyra’s heart thudded so hard she was sure Andros must be able to hear it, to feel the nerves rolling off her.
Show time.
“Did you know,” she began, her words far steadier than she’d expected them to be. “That in the Regency period women who were genteel and poor would offer themselves up as mistresses to men in the aristocracy?”
Silence for a moment, and when Andros spoke his accent was marked, thicker. “I did not know that.”
She shrugged, just a small movement, before casting him a look from under her lashes. It was one she’d practiced in the mirror, worked on to make perfect, and it had the desired effect. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared.
Desire. Thick. Throbbing.
“I read a lot of historical romances,” she continued, her voice less steady now. “My sister adores them, and you know I think it makes sense.”
“How so?” he asked.
“They were poor and they had no way to earn a living for themselves. Women weren’t allowed to work after all, or if they were the jobs were pretty grim. So they would spend time with the man, until he tired of her—men always do in the end don’t they?—and then when the affair ended he would give her a parting gift.”