Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon(29)
“What do you think?” she asked, giving him a twirl. The wrap reached the cleft of her ass, but he scowled anyway. He approved of her covering up the skin up top, but the legs. They just went on and on.
“I think I should invest in a nun’s habit.”
“I was never very religious.”
“That I do not doubt.”
“We had this really pervy vicar at one of our homes; he was always trying to drag us into the confession box. Put me off organized religion for life.”
“And did he succeed?” Andros demanded, already planning how he might hunt the man down.
She grinned, her dimple appearing. “Nope. Penny jimmied the lock one time. He was stuck in there for hours and hours. It was hilarious.”
“Your other sister.”
“Yeah, she’s a bit of a whiz with locks.”
“Something tells me I do not want to know the rest.”
“I would agree.”
“Then let us go,” Andros said, his control shaky in the extreme. “My driver is waiting.”#p#分页标题#e#
It did not take them long to arrive at the restaurant, a French eatery that had been receiving rave reviews. Lyra gave her wrap to the doorman, making Andros hiss slightly as she turned and he got a full view of the dress in question. It was backless, dipping all the way down, and showing off every inch of her tanned skin.
“I shall burn that dress when we return home,” he snapped.
“It’s pretty.”
“It is too revealing.”
“You want me covered up?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
He scowled, because yes, in a way she was right, he liked seeing her looking sexy, outdoing every other woman within a hundred mile radius, but at the same time…
Andros took her arm in his, pulling her close, letting the scent that was unique to her wash over him, and led her into the dining room.
The moment they entered, it was like letting off a fucking firecracker, and he, and every other man in the room knew it. Eyes swiveled and narrowed, positions were adjusted—he could see them—looking, wanting—and it angered him. It wasn’t even like Lyra was the only female present. Women of all shapes and sizes milled around, some very beautiful, some relying heavily on cosmetics, and yet none even came close to her flame.
It had to be the hair, he thought. It was so bright, so vivid, if he hadn’t known better he would have said it was fake. But he’d seen proof, knew it was as natural as every other bit of her.
“They are all staring at you,” he grated.
“I told you in situations like this that they do,” she said, and her voice was brimming with amusement.
“Situations like this?”
“When I’m not at home I mean, when I’m glammed up, it’s different then.”
“How so?”
“Well if this was in the area where I live, I wouldn’t even look like this so it wouldn’t be an issue.”
Andros thought of what he had read about that area and scowled. “How would you look?”
She shrugged. “Jeans, a hoodie, hair in a pony. I wouldn’t get too much attention looking like that.”
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“Well yes, but when you’ve lived somewhere a while people stop looking and they eventually get the message. This, however,” she laughed. “This is a whole other ball game.”
“This is funny to you?”
“It is. Usually by now several of them would have tripped over their own feet trying to get to me. I’d have a row full of drinks ready and waiting. I’d be fighting the fuckers off.”
“But now…”
“You’re here. Right next to me and look at them, they won’t dare.”
“I will snap the fingers of any man who attempts to touch you,” he growled, that same anger still flowing. It was primitive, a reaction to others coveting what was his—he knew that and accepted it. Right now Lyra was his and that was that.
His mistress. Tucked away for him alone.
“ Okayyyy…”
“You are mine, are you not?” he growled. “Mine alone.”
“I am. That is what we agreed.”
“Well then.”
They made their way over to the table where his guests sat. Andros kept Lyra close to him, her arm in his, her body rubbing along his side every time they squeezed past too many tables tucked together.
“Who are the stiffs?” she whispered, and despite himself Andros grinned.
“Reginald and Barclay Peterson. Blue bloods.”
“Pervs?”
“Probably. Regardless, they own a company I want. They’ve agreed to sell, so this meeting is simply closure.”