Claimed by the Sicilian Tycoon (23 page)

Her
eyes snapped back open. “Whatever.”

“They
won’t make you feel like I do,” he grated. “They won’t know how to make you
scream.”

She
stepped back, into the lobby, eyes narrowed. “I’m sure they’ll do just fine. In
fact, I bet they’ll have me quivering under them in no time.

The
image of her with another man, lying beneath them, gasping their name… Andros
barely swallowed down the anger. “You would not dare.”

“You
don’t want me, so why shouldn’t I find another man?” she challenged.

“You
know I want you,” he roared. “Haven’t I told you this?”
Fuck
, why wasn’t she understanding him? Why couldn’t she just
accept what he was offering? How could she ever think he would allow another
man to have her?

“Your
own personal little toy,” she taunted.

He
followed her into the lobby, moving around so that her access to the door was
blocked. “Yes mine—”

“For
you to put down and pick up when you feel like it.”

“No!
I want what you offered in the very beginning,” he said. “Remember what you
said all those months ago? Your list?”

“Of
course I remember the list,” she said. “It doesn’t work anymore, though. I
can’t be with you until you get tired of me all over again.”

“I
will not. Haven’t I said so?” he said, voice dropping. How could he convince
her? “Lyra, I could never tire of you.”

Her
eyes widened. She gasped. “Oh my God, do you have any idea what you’re saying?
You don’t, do you? You just do not get it.”

“I—”

“Just
get out of my way. I am so done with this.”

“Lyra—”

“Now!”

Her
voice was harsh, verging on a screech. Andros realized abruptly that, in her
current frame of mind, she was not going to do as he wished, and he had no idea
how he felt about that, or even how to make her change her mind. And part of
him started wondering why the fuck he was even bothering. He was rich,
desirable, and he could have any woman he fucking pleased. So here he was.
Putting it all on the line for this one, and she refused him? It was
unacceptable.

He
stepped away from the door. “Fine, do as you please,” he grated, anger and
frustration making him speak before he could think otherwise. “Fuck every man
in London for all I care.”

“Maybe
I’ll do just that,” she hissed. “There’s bound to be another Sicilian billionaire
somewhere.”

Andros
inhaled a sharp breath. Her beneath another of his countrymen? Her screaming as
that man filled her with his length? “You wouldn’t fucking dare,” he raged. “Do
you have any idea how much that would anger me?”

“Oh
careful, Andros,” she taunted. “One might say your jealousy is starting to show
again.”

“Jealousy?”
he demanded. “When have I ever been jealous?”

“Oh,
let me see. The first time you took me to dinner?”

“I
was not.”

“The
incident with Mitch?
You’re mine, Lyra,
You belong to me
.”

“Because
you do!” he stated, and realized just how true that was. Lyra might be walking
out the door, but he resolved there and then that it would not be long before
he had her back in it. If she needed a few more months to stew, a few more
months to miss him, then that was what she would have.

“I
belong to no one.”

The
plan now firm in his mind, Andros stepped away from the door. “Tell yourself
that as often as you want,
Rossa
. I
can bet that when you close your eyes at night you think of me. When you wake
up in the morning how long until I enter your thoughts? You are the one who
doesn’t get it. We’re imprinted on each other. This crazy relationship of ours
has changed us both.”

“Not
enough.”

“Clearly
not enough for you to come to your senses yet. You need time. I will give it to
you.”

“I
don’t need any time. I’m leaving.”

“Then
leave,” he said, gesturing to the door. “But know this, we’re far from through,
Lyra. Say what you fucking like.”

She
glared. “What happened in the car will never happen again.”

He
shrugged. “Of course it will. It is only a matter of time.”

“We’re
done. Stay away from me. Do not come near me again.”

“Do
not be so dramatic,” he said.

“I
mean it. Jesus Christ, Andros, I mean it,” she screeched. “Listen to the
fucking words.”

“Lyra…”
He paused, narrowed his eyes, and moved forward. Her hands were clenched tight,
her face flushed, and it seemed almost like… “Are you…are you crying?” he
whispered.

She
dashed a hand across her eyes. “Of course I’m not crying! I don’t cry.”

“Lyra—”

“You’re
no good for me,” she spluttered. “You were never any good for me and I should
have known that right at the start. These fucking missions were all a complete
screw up in the end.”

“Missions?”
he asked, jumping on the oddness of the word. “What do you mean?”

“You
don’t even get that,” she cried. “You don’t get any of it. Why did I think you
would? How could I ever have been so stupid?”

“I
get that we fit,” he said carefully, the sight of her tears making everything
turn on its head. Leave her to stew, make her ache? How could he think that way
when the woman who meant so much to him was falling apart in front of his eyes?
What was fucking wrong with him?

How
could he fix it all?

“Fit?”
She laughed, the sound harsh. “We are so far from fitting. We’re…we’re just
wrong. This,” She waved a hand between them. “It’s just sex. Sex and more sex
and it is no good.”

“It
has always been good. It works,” he insisted.

“But
nothing else does. I can’t be your plaything anymore, Andros. I can’t.”

“You
want more. I will give you more,” he said. “If that is what you need I will
give you more.”

Another
dash of her hand across her face, her lips quivering. Andros wanted to step
forward and pull her into his arms, make her feel better. But he had no idea
where to even start! No idea what giving more even entailed.

“You
know,” she said softly, after a moment. “I don’t think I do want more.”

“But—”

“Let’s
just draw a line. Draw it here and now and be done with it.”

Silence
fell and held. Andros could practically hear his own heart thumping in his
chest. Thumping far too quickly. “Then you want this to be the end?” he asked,
the words not fitting right in his mouth. “Truly.”

She
nodded. “I do. I have to.”

Then
she smoothed down her dress, walked forward, and stood up on her tiptoes. A
moment later and a light kiss was placed on his lips. The pressure was
negligible, almost nonexistent, and yet Andros felt like it was the hardest
kiss she had ever given him.
 
His stomach
knotted, his chest thumped, and he felt like something heavy had settled on
him.

How
had it gone wrong so quickly?

Why
wasn’t it working out like he assumed?

How
was he supposed to fix it?

“Don’t
do this, Lyra,” he said. “Don’t.”

But
she shook her head, and those tears that she insisted were not tears, sparkled
on her eyelids. “No choice,” she whispered. “No choice. Not anymore. You take
care of yourself, Andros. Be happy.”

And
then before he could speak, before he could do a single thing, Lyra was
gone.
 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Three
months later

“You
really need to eat something else, Ly,” Rachel said. “You’re skin and bones
these days and it’s making me feel like a whale.”

Lyra
looked up from her drink, and caught the eye of her sister. They were sitting
in a chic little café by Parliament, eating lunch and enjoying the spring air.
Penny was due to join them any moment, but was running late. Hardly a surprise.
She had recently begun work on the
Bristol
Point
, the second of their centers for vulnerable teens, the first of many,
the sisters knew. With two of the three sisters married to extremely rich men
they had no issues with funding, it was just about time now, time to do all the
work needed, and finding the right staff to help them with that work. After
all, though Lyra had plenty of time on her hands, Penny and Rachel did not.
Penny’s Greek kept her busy, and Rachel was about ready to burst. Free time was
soon to be a thing of the past for her.

“I’m
not really hungry,” Lyra said, prodding her burger.

“You’re
too skinny,” Rachel moaned. “I swear, Ly, if you were a foot taller you could
totally be a model.”

 
“Hardly, and besides, you just think I look
skinny because you’re so fat,” Lyra said. “Chubb, chubb, chubb.”

Rachel
laughed and reached out to swat her sister on the arm. Luckily Lyra was sitting
close to her or she wouldn’t have been able to manage it. She was
huge
, the baby due any day now. In fact
this was to be their last lunch, the three sisters together, before Rachel
popped the little one out and everything changed.

“I
am perfectly goddess like,” Rachel corrected. “At least that’s what Dominic
says.”

“Of
course Dom says that,” Lyra agreed, thinking of her brother in law. After a
shaky start they were now firm friends. In fact Lyra got on very well with both
her brothers in law. How could she not when they made her sisters so happy? “He
thinks every single thing you do is perfect in every possible way,” she added.

Rachel
scrunched up her nose. “I wonder if he’ll think that if I poop when I’m in
labor?”

 
Lyra’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

Rachel
nodded. “I read about it in one of the books. Apparently sometimes women poop
when they’re in labor. It’s because you’re squeezing the muscles and—”

Lyra
held up a hand. “Stop. I do not want to know this.”

“Penny
said I probably will,” Rachel continued. “She says Dom will faint. Apparently
Italians aren’t as tough as Greeks.”

“I
wouldn’t tell Dominic that.”

Rachel
sighed and popped a fry in her mouth. “So what do you think? Maybe I should
make him wait outside and just have you and Pen?”

“You
don’t want your husband to be there?” Lyra asked. “For the birth of mini
Rimeria?”

Rachel
laughed. “Of course, but I want you guys too.”

“We’ll
be there,” Lyra promised. “Who could possibly keep us away?”

“Poop
and all?”

Lyra
gave an exaggerated shudder. “Uh huh. But I’ve gotta say, that is vile. I so
never want to get pregnant, or have babies. I’m going to be one of those really
cool, eccentric aunts. Yours and Pen’s kids will be desperate to escape the
confines of your strict homes to come spend time with me. I’ll spoil them and
let them do really inappropriate things.”

Rachel
frowned. “You never let us do inappropriate things.”

“Because
you were my responsibility,” Lyra said. “I had to look after you.”

“And
you did,” Rachel said softly, reaching out and taking Lyra’s hand. “You were
the best big sister ever. I could ask for nothing better than you and Pen for
my family.”

“Snap.”

“And
I want you to be happy,” Rachel continued. “As happy as me and Pen.”

Lyra
shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the way their conversation was going. “I
am happy,” she said.

“Ly….”
Rachel paused, as if steeling herself, then spoke. “You are too skinny, you
have smudges under your eyes, you’re far too pale, and you live in sweats these
days. When did you last wear a nice dress?”

“You
want me to wear a dress at
The Point
?”

“We’re
not at
The Point
now,” Rachel said.

Lyra
scowled and looked down at her outfit. She wore jeans—not sweats!—and a thin
jumper.
 
Sure, the jeans had ripped
knees, and her jumper a couple of holes, and yes, okay, the running shoes had
seen better days, but there was nothing wrong with her outfit. What need was
there for her to get dressed up, she thought? She went nowhere beyond
The Point
. Her office was there, and her
room. Apart from Penny and Rachel’s homes, that was her little world now.

Oh,
she’d thought about glamming up and going out. Penny was up for it the moment
she said so, though Seb would probably be clamped to her side. Maybe she would
even find someone to ease the constant ache in her chest. Someone to lift her
hair up and run his fingers through it. Someone to hold her and kiss her, and
make things seem a little less bleak. Trouble was, she could picture no one
doing that but Andros. The thought of another man doing the things that he had
done to her made Lyra feel a little queasy. She wanted one man and one man
only, and even after all the long months, that had not changed.