Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon(32)

That was something to think about at some point.

They made it to the front of the queue after a minute or so. Lyra eyed the menu greedily, her stomach flipping in knots as she planned what to get. “Do you want to share a bucket?”

“A bucket?”

“Yeah.” She pointed to the top of the menu glowing on the wall. “Look, it has twelve pieces of chicken, beans, gravy, fries and corn on the cob.”

“Twelve pieces of chicken?”

“Yes, but I warn you, I’m going to want at least half of them.”

“Whatever you want.”

Lyra ordered the bucket, paid for it with Andros’ money, and led them over to one of the bar tables against the window. Andros carried over their drinks, two cokes, and she the bucket. Once they were seated, she pulled the food out and spread it before them, the delicious smell of chicken making her feel ever so slightly faint.

She did not pause before eating, and did not stop until her stomach was near bursting. Andros seemed to be equally as content to simply tuck into the fried chicken, and as Lyra watched him, she couldn’t help but be struck by how odd the situation was.

Andros Casstellini, Sicilian tycoon, billionaire media magnate, sat in a fried chicken house with the woman who had schemed to become his mistress. It was so fucking surreal.

“I will be visiting here again,” he proclaimed the moment the last of the chicken was gone. “In fact I am already considering how I can move this business closer to my home.”

“Leave it where it is,” Lyra scolded. “Lots of people like eating here. It’s not just for you.”

He reached out and took her hand, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist. “True, but once I want something…”

“You get it,” she finished for him, and he nodded.

Then, right there in the chicken house, and before she could think to stop him, he took her index finger and licked along it, sucking the chicken grease off. It should have skeeved her out, but it so did not. When he did the same to her next finger Lyra’s pussy clenched, and her nipples hardened.

Desire filled her. Swift and shocking. Like a sucker punch to the gut, it was now all she could think about.

“I think I had enough,” she whispered.

He smiled that amazing smile of his, and licked his lips. Christ.

“Time to go home, Rossa.”





Chapter Fourteen



Monday morning and Andros arrived at his office early. He had a full day ahead of him, including a trip to Bristol, so needed to maximize his time. He’d left Lyra in bed, curled up once again, fast asleep. He hadn’t particularly wanted to leave her, would have liked to have shaken her awake and buried himself in her all over again—just as he had all weekend—but there was much to be done, and only so much time.

He turned on his laptop, and got to work answering critical emails. The morning hours passed by quickly, with more emails, phone calls, and meetings with his support staff. It was lunchtime before he had a moment to think. He thought of her and checked his wristwatch. He had an hour before he needed to head to Bristol, why not take care of the plans he’d considered over the weekend, and made on the drive in?

He strode out of his office, nodding at his assistant Marjorie. “Are you busy?”

She raised an eyebrow, and placed her tablet on her desk. “I’m always busy, Andros. Everyone in this office is busy.”

He looked around the spacious room, catching a smile or two. He had a very good relationship with his support team. They sat together in the large open plan office outside of his own space, and every one of them would be bluntly honest with him if required.

“It’s because our boss is a slave driver.”

This came from Ricardo, a young Italian graduate, who had risen through the ranks of Andros’ company with startling speed.

“You look like you have time on your hands, Ricky,” Andros said slowly. “Your inbox looks distinctly empty.” He smiled wickedly. “Might as well pick up the Ainsley project.”

Ricky frowned. “Dios, someone is going to have to go down there for a few days. You realize they’ll put me in the servants' quarters of that castle of theirs? It’ll be freezing.”

Andros nodded. “But think of all the…architecture.”

Ricky grinned. “On it.”

Marjorie coughed. “And by architecture I hope you mean the portraits, rather than the fact that Lord Ainsley likes to surround himself with models passed off as maids.”#p#分页标题#e#

Andros gave Marjorie a solemn sort of look. “Of course I do. Now, do you have anything urgent you need to do this instant?”