Глава №3. Замоскворечье – другая Москва, или почему Москву называли большой деревней. Андрей МонамсЧитать онлайн книгу.
I’ve decided I don’t want the company, after all. Maybe I’ll start my own business.”
“You can try. Or you can come with me and help fix what is wrong.”
She blinked. His tone hadn’t changed at all, but he was now looking at her expectantly. As if he just knew what her answer would be. And, damn him, he did. But she wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
“You cannot possibly mean for me to really help you. I’m spoiled and useless, remember?”
“You are indeed. And yet I am pleased with tonight’s event, and pleased with how things have gone in your office in general. It’s time to step up, Lucilla. Prove your mettle or get out of my way.”
She gripped the pen she’d picked up just a little tighter. He was so damn smug. “I can handle anything you throw at me, baby.”
He blinked. “Baby?”
“Annoying, right?” She shrugged, though her heart raced with adrenaline. “I’ve decided to start giving as good as I get. If I’m your Lucilla, you can be my baby.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and she had the impression she’d just wakened a sleeping tiger. Perhaps she shouldn’t bait him, but God, he deserved it. It made her feel reckless, which was certainly not how she usually behaved. But she rather liked it.
“I look forward to the inevitable clash of wills, Lucilla. You have no idea how much.”
She dropped the pen. “Because you like discord in your work environment? Well, I don’t. But I won’t be bullied, either. So get ready, baby, because I will not back down.”
He stood then and looked down at her from a great height. Because she didn’t like him towering over her, she stood, too. They faced each other across her desk. Her body felt rubbery, liquid, as their gazes held. There was no denying that Christos Giatrakos was powerfully, sinfully attractive.
If only he wasn’t such an arrogant jerk.
“I feel as if we must seal this deal somehow,” he murmured, and her stomach fluttered.
She came around her desk and thrust her hand out. She would not cower from him like a mouse. “I believe a handshake is how it’s usually done.”
His gaze dropped to her outstretched hand. “Indeed.” His hand slipped into hers, engulfing it. They were palm to palm and it somehow felt like the most intimate touch imaginable. She tried not to gasp, tried not to shiver or make any response that let him know how intense this feeling was.
But she didn’t need to. He tugged her hand softly and she moved forward until their bodies pressed together. His arm slipped behind her, his fingers spreading over the small of her back, burning her through the fabric of her dress.
His other hand tilted her chin up. His eyes, those beautiful, icy eyes, searched hers. She could not, for the life of her, imagine what she was supposed to say.
“I think this requires something a bit more personal,” he murmured. And then his mouth came down on hers—softly, sweetly, his lips gliding over hers, teasing and tantalizing. Her heart was a reckless runaway in her chest, and her body had lost the ability to hold itself upright moments ago.
She clutched his lapels, her eyes fluttering closed as he tormented her with that glorious mouth. His tongue slipped over her lips, and she gasped. Then he was inside and she was there to meet him. Their tongues tangled, and Lucilla made a noise in her throat as her body simply melted.
Oh, she hadn’t felt like this in so long—if ever. She’d had lovers, certainly. But not for months now, and no one who’d made her yearn so keenly for his touch. Kissing Christos was a revelation in more ways than one.
First, he was an amazing kisser. Second, in spite of her very real dislike of him, it only seemed to make kissing him more exciting. He tilted her chin up, plundered her mouth with a bit more urgency than before. His tongue was skillful, his lips masterful.
Oh, how she ached for more than this melding of mouths.
But this was Christos. Christos. The man her father had sent to do the job she was meant to do. The man who thought himself above her in every way. The man who showed absolutely no remorse or pity in his dealings with others.
He’d sent Lucca to the Mediterranean, Cara to Vegas, Franco on an errand in Australia. He’d 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