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what I mean about arrogance.”
    “It
is justified.”
    “Indeed
it is and there is your answer.”
    “Elaborate.”
    She
sighed, propping her chin on her hand. Her fingers lay on the spot that Andros
had caressed and it felt ridiculously warm to her. Though maybe that was just a
fancy? “Let’s pretend it’s Regency times, Andros,” she said. “Let’s pretend I’m
a genteel, but impoverished, woman who is looking for a protector.”
    “And
you wish this protector to be me?”
    “I
figured I would reach for the stars.”
    “Because
you always get the moon if that fails?”
    “Precisely.”
    “That
I do not doubt.” He paused. “Lord Carl Ainsley would have been your protector
in a flash.”
    “He
does not interest me,” she said.
    “He
is rich.”
    “Not
as rich as you.”
    Andros
laughed, probably because it was so true. “Few people are.”
    “And
besides I don’t simply want a protector for his money,” Lyra said honestly.
After all, she could have just robbed him if that was the case.
    “Then
what else?” he asked.
    “You
would like a list?”
    “Of
course.”
    And
she had that list. Had made it the moment she and her sisters had conceived
their plan. It was easy to rattle it off now and Lyra did, wondering exactly
what Andros would think when he heard it. “Okay. He has to be attractive. And
not just mildly so. I’m talking about the sort of attractive that makes you
wince when you pass a man in the street, makes you turn around along with every
other woman and follow him with your eyes until he walks out of view.”
    “And
you would put me in that category?”
    She
rolled her eyes again. “You know you’re in it.”
    “The
rest of the list if you please.”
    “The
body has to match the face,” she continued. “Sculpted, toned, irresistible.”
    “Continue.”
    “And
he has to be as hard as he is sexy.”
    “Hard?
Why?”
    “Because,
Andros, it is easy for a man to think himself in love with a woman who looks
like I do. The first flash of lust confuses them. Before you know it they’re
down on one knee begging you to marry them.”
    Silence
for a moment as he was digesting her words, and when he spoke his accent was so
thick it made Lyra’s thighs clench. She couldn’t help but imagine him
whispering filth to her in that voice.
    “And
you are not a marrying kind of girl.”
    “Absolutely
not,” she said.
    “And
you want a man who thinks alongside the same lines.”
    “Precisely.”
    Another
moment of silence and Lyra waited. It all hung in the balance now, so she could
do nothing else. Her position was clear. Question was, would Andros go for the
bait?
      “Well,” he said eventually and her heart raced
in her chest. “It seems, Lyra Matthews, that you have found him.”
     
     

 
    Chapter Six
     
    The
drive back to Andros’ home was tense, much more so than the short drive to the
restaurant had been. The car was practically thrumming with the awareness
between them, and it took everything he had to keep his hands, and his mouth,
to himself. But Andros knew he had to play it right, to grab at some sort of
patience.
    Lyra
was sat next to him, seemingly serene. Her hands were placed on her lap, her
legs crossed, and she was looking out of the window at the passing scenery.
Only the windows were tinted, so there was little to see. He paused; maybe she
was not so serene after all.
    “Where
are you taking me?” she asked softly.
    “To
my home—one of them at least,” he said, though really they should be going to a
hotel. He never took women back to his town house, only he didn’t think he
could last out the time to get to a hotel, and besides, he wanted no
distractions. Just him and her, and the pleasure they were going to give each
other.
    “You
live alone,” she said. Andros could tell by the tone of her voice that it was
not a question.
    “I
do.”
    “No
staff.” Again it was not a question.
    “Not
live in,” he replied.
    “Ah.”
    He
shifted in his