had brown eyes and brown hair and her smile was too wide. She did, however, have fabulous breasts. She slipped her hands under their curves, admiring them in the mirror. Yes, men definitely wanted these. Perhaps Christos did, too, though it seemed far more likely he was simply toying with her. Wanting her to admit she wanted him so he could reject her and thus prove his superiority while laughing at her.
Not happening.
With a last primp of her hair, she returned to the ballroom. As the evening wore on, she smiled and chatted with the guests and tried to push Christos from her mind. It wasn’t easy since she could feel his presence in the room. She knew he was watching and waiting and perhaps hoping she would make a mistake tonight.
She glimpsed him from time to time, holding court at the center of a gathering, the tall, leggy blonde in the skintight dress plastered to his side. He caught her gaze once and she forced herself not to look away. They stared at each other for several moments before the woman at his side seemed to realize his attention wasn’t on her anymore. She leaned in close and said something in his ear, and then he was turning his perfect smile on her.
Lucilla felt almost bereft when he wasn’t looking at her anymore, as if he’d somehow rejected her when he’d turned away. Utterly ridiculous.
She hadn’t brought a date tonight. She hadn’t dated anyone in months now because she’d been so focused on the hotel empire and had no time, but she decided that first thing tomorrow, she was getting back out there in the dating pool. It was ridiculous to throw herself so hard into work that she neglected having a personal life.
She told herself that if she hadn’t been lonely and aching for companionship, Christos would not have been able to affect her.
And he had affected her. She would admit that much. He was tall, sinfully sexy, and he made her blood hum. She really hated that about herself, that she could be attracted to a jerk like him, but her body didn’t seem to know he was poison.
When the auction began, Lucilla stayed around at first to make sure things were going smoothly, but then she retreated to her office with instructions to Jessie to come and get her if anything was amiss. She didn’t want to be there for the auctioning of her mother’s portrait.
She didn’t know why it bothered her—Liliana Chatsfield had thought nothing of abandoning her children and husband and leaving the raising of her family to her two eldest, so why on earth should Lucilla care about her portrait?
It was nostalgia, plain and simple, and she refused to let it bother her a moment longer. She sat at her desk—not the easiest thing to do in a tight gown—and scrolled through the bookings and reports for the upcoming week. The hotel had many things going on, and it was her duty to make sure it all went smoothly.
When her door opened, she glanced up, expecting to see Jessie. Instead, her stomach dropped into her toes and her pulse kicked up at the sight of Christos standing there, coolly handsome in his tuxedo and crisp white shirt.
“Yes?” she said as blandly as possible.
He walked in and closed the door and her heart ticked up another notch. “You left rather abruptly. Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You tell me.”
She sighed and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “It’s been a long day, Christos. I’m tired and I have a lot of work to do. I don’t stay for every event. Jessie knows where to find me if I’m needed.”
“You are upset with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not everything is about you, difficult as that may be to believe. No, I don’t like you, but I don’t spend every waking moment thinking about you.” Well, she did, but much of it was about how to get rid of him. She waved a hand airily. “I forgot about it as soon as I started talking to the auction director.”
Not quite true, but he didn’t need to know that.
He sprawled in the chair in front of her desk, gloriously loose-limbed and casual when she had the impression he was anything but. “This is good, Lucilla mou. Because we have things to talk about.”
She tried not to let the way he said her name slip down her spine and start drumming a beat in her deepest core, but it was damn near impossible. Plague the man for making her think of sex, anyway!
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that. I have no idea what it means, but it irritates me.”
His grin was too sexy for comfort. “I know this. It’s why I do it. And it means ‘my Lucilla.’”
Her stomach clenched. “I am most certainly not your Lucilla. I’m not anyone’s Lucilla.”
She could have bitten her tongue for admitting that last part. It was as if she’d just come out and said she couldn’t interest a man to save her life.
“This is a shame. You should be someone’s Lucilla. You should be taken to bed often and made to scream your lover’s name many times a night.”
Her throat was tight. “You really shouldn’t talk to me like this. It’s inappropriate.”
He ran his fingers along the edge of the chair’s arm. “Is it? You have informed me more than once that you don’t work for me, that you are a Chatsfield and these hotels are yours by birthright. How am I being inappropriate?”
She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pulsing of her blood in her veins. “My father hired you and gave you control over the Chatsfield Family Trust. I’d say that’s incentive enough for me to need to do what you say. And that makes this conversation inappropriate.”
“And here I thought we were finally being truthful with each other.” He made it sound as if he was disappointed in her, and that only irritated her further.
“What did you wish to talk to me about, Christos? If it’s not business, then please go away.”
He laughed. “It is definitely business, Lucilla mou. But I cannot help but rib you now that I know you are not immune to my charm.”
“Oh, for God’s sake—you have no charm! This is not about you or your nonexistent charm. It’s about business and what’s best for the hotels, so stop irritating me and get on with it.”
He leaned forward then and put his elbows on her desk. “After the shareholders’ meeting in August, I plan to make a tour of several Chatsfield locations. You will accompany me.”
Lucilla blinked. “Me? Why? Don’t you have an assistant for that?”
He rubbed a finger over his bottom lip and she found herself following the motion of that finger. “If you wish to run this company someday, I suggest you do what I tell you.”
She felt herself growling. “Sometimes it’s easier to get flies with honey, you know.” She tapped a key on her computer, purposely ignoring him. “And maybe 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,