hired Antonio as the head of strategy, but Antonio had taken the job only because she’d begged him to so they could work together to bring Christos down. With Orsino out of action in France, and Nicolo currently holed up at Chatsfield House with Christos’s PA—whom he’d sent to secure Nicolo’s attendance at the next shareholders’ meeting—Christos was like a great spider, sitting at the center of his web and sending out threads designed to ensnare people.
Lucilla’s fingers tightened in his lapels. She had a choice. She could stop this insanity or she could use this moment between them. She had never been a seductress before—but she could be. She could use this fire, this need, and she could best him at his own game.
She pressed herself closer to him, though it terrified her on some level to do so. His grip on her tightened, his hands spanning her hips, pulling her against him and—
Oh, my.
He was hard. There was no mistaking it. She’d thought, on some level, that he was faking desire for her. Liquid heat flooded her sex as he moved against her, his body sparking delicious sensations in hers. She let her hands slide over his chest, beneath his jacket—
There was a knock on the door and then it swung open before Lucilla registered what such an intrusion would mean.
“Oh! Excuse me!”
The door slammed shut again and Lucilla broke free of Christos’s grip. Oh, my God. Her cheeks blazed. She’d just been caught in the arms of the boss. By Jessie. Because that’s how everyone viewed Christos around here even if she did not.
Fury and embarrassment boiled in her belly. She’d been so convinced she knew what she was doing. What on earth had possessed her?
She was not a seductress and she had no idea what she’d do with Christos if she did sleep with him. How would that help her cause? Clearly, she’d been out of her mind. The moment he’d kissed her, she’d lost her sense. And now Jessie knew. Who else would know before the week was out?
Christos’s eyes glittered hot as he ran a thumb over his lip, presumably removing her lipstick. He appeared as cool as if he were standing outside in a soaking rain while she felt as if she would never be cool again.
“It seems as if we’ve been interrupted. Not a moment too soon, I imagine.”
“Honestly, I have no idea what that means.” She went around her desk and stood with that object between them, as if it could protect her when she apparently didn’t have sense enough to protect herself. “Nothing was going to happen.”
“Don’t lie to yourself.” His voice was soft as a whisper and yet steely, too. “We wanted the same thing, Lucilla. And it would have happened on your desk in another five minutes.”
“You are so deluded. I let you kiss me. It meant nothing.”
“Tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night. But you know as well as I do where that kiss was headed.”
She folded her arms over her chest and hoped the wild beat of her pulse didn’t show in her throat. “If you will excuse me, I believe Jessie needs to see me for something.”
He inclined his head. “Of course.” He was almost to the door when he turned and threw her a heated look. “As I said before, this is not over. In fact, I would say it has only begun.”
Without waiting for a reply, he yanked the door open and stalked through it. An astonished and red-faced Jessie hurried into the room, eyes wide. She wisely did not say a word about Christos.
Lucilla took her seat and tried to appear cool. “Well, has there been a disaster?” Aside from the disaster of letting Christos kiss her and steal all her good sense, of course.
“Nothing of the sort. You asked me to let you know who bought your mother’s portrait.”
She’d almost forgotten. “Yes, of course I did.”
Jessie looked apologetic. “I’m afraid it was an anonymous phone bidder. It sold for one hundred thousand pounds, though.”
Lucilla tried to ignore the pinch in her heart. No way could she have afforded that much, even if she had been willing to bid. “Thank you, Jessie. I’ll be here for a while. Let me know if I’m needed.”
“Yes, Ms. Chatsfield,” Jessie said before turning and hurrying out the door. Lucilla closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She could still feel Christos’s touch on her skin, still feel the deep pull of desire in her core.
Lucilla shivered. And then she opened up her email and got to work. Christos had to go. Soon.
CHRISTOS WAS IN a bad mood. He was restless and edgy and his patience had run out a long time ago. He knew what it was. He sat at his desk in his big corner office and brooded over the latest reports. Oh, the reports were fine. There was progress on all fronts. Lucca wasn’t making a spectacle of himself, Cara was managing to ride out the media storm created in Las Vegas with the notorious Aiden Kelly and Franco was getting somewhere with Purman Wines.
Not only that, but Sophie had made progress with Nicolo and he would be at the shareholders’ meeting next week. Orsino still wasn’t answering Christos’s calls, but Christos figured it was only a matter of time. The Chatsfield children were coming into line, whether they believed it or not.
His biggest problem, however, was Lucilla.
He couldn’t forget that kiss in her office on the night of the charity auction. It had been two weeks ago now and he thought of it incessantly. The way she’d melted in his arms like molten gold, her body curving into his and promising him such sweetness. He’d wanted her quite desperately in that moment. And she had wanted him, too; he was certain of it. She’d been ready to come apart in his arms and then the door had opened and Jessie had stumbled in—and that was the end of that.
For two weeks, she’d avoided him. They saw each other at the morning staff meetings. She gave her reports. But she did not come to his office—and he did not send for her.
He did it as much to prove to himself as to her that he was unaffected by their interchange. Yes, she’d excited him and he’d wanted her. But he did not need her. Women were interchangeable to him. All he required from them was a warm body in his bed and a few hours of passion. Beyond that, he wished for nothing more.
Needed nothing more.
Except, dammit, he couldn’t stop thinking about Lucilla’s mouth beneath his, her tongue gliding against his, her body so pliable and warm….
The tingle at the base of his spine was not a good sign. He swore and got to his feet, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets and stalking over to the window to gaze out on the park across the street. He needed a woman. Any woman. That would take the edge off and then he could get back to thinking straight again.
He could call Victoria. She was an enthusiastic lover, even if she left him cold. Yes, he’d taken her back to her apartment that night after the aborted kiss with Lucilla and he’d let her strip him naked. He’d spent his passion inside her body, but he’d felt vaguely disgusted with himself when it was done. Then he’d left her with a kiss and a promise
