Tempting the Tycoon

Chapter 5

How messed up was that?

But Alexios Verga ticked off every box on the go-to list for men that she had yet to actually utilize. Tall? Check. Dark? Check. Handsome? Scratch that. He was gorgeous. Rich? Not a requirement, but definitely not a detriment, either. Bad boy? Oh, yeah. Alexios Verga was the poster boy for Bad, with his string of photographs of a different date-mate every month as proof, and his preference for playing more than working. Add in his privileged attitude and he was just bad-to-the-bone for a woman such as her.

But, there was no accounting for taste, especially hers when it came to men, and no reason for Sydney to let her boss know she found him scrumpti-licious. So she held her ground and stared up into his stoic face. And tried not to notice those, thick, long lashes that framed dark, chocolate eyes. Or that five o'clock shadow that begged her fingers to follow it around his cheeks and chin...

He was speaking again, with that carefully modulated voice that slid over and around her like a naughty silk negligee. "You may know bartending, Miss Hughes, but I know business. I may not exhibit that knowledge to the best of my ability at times, but I have the Harvard degree to prove it. And burning the house down for the sake of showmanship is not good business. Nor is giving away the alcohol for free. You should have told me your plan first."

That zing of sexual awareness from a moment ago crumbled at his words, and she blinked up at him. Ran his last few sentences disbelievingly around in her head. Had he just pulled the I'm-better-educated-than-you-so-I know-more card? Had he actually just said that to the person he'd brought in to save his sorry, drowning business ass?

Likewise, wasn't he now guilty of the same thing he was accusing her of doing? Telling her how to do her job? The job he'd blackmailed her into doing? Couldn't he see how packed this place was? What a cash cow it could be? This time when she looked at him all she saw was red.

"Well, Mr. Harvard Business graduate, you've certainly put me in my place. I actually thought you meant it when you asked me to bring life back to this dungeon. But you've just made it clear I was wrong. I definitely won't be presuming to tell you how to run your business anymore. And I will absolutely make sure to ask you before I attempt any more creative resuscitation efforts. I'll stop showing off immediately and simply pour your hard earned alcohol to another rendition of 'The Old Rugged Cross.'"

Blasted tears sprang to her eyes as Sydney made to storm past Alexios. She could see the death of her father's dreams from her smart mouth in his shocked expression, and had to get away before she embarrassed herself by outright crying.

She nearly made it to the door through which they'd entered when Alexios's hand snaked out and firmly clasped around her elbow. Refusing to get into a tug of war, she ground to a halt and looked down at the floor, saying lowly, "Please let go of me, Mr. Verga."

"Damn it, Sydney, that's not what I meant." He swung her around to face him, but she remained statue-like, head bowed, silently staring at the tops of his shiny black shoes.

"Look at me," he commanded, and when she didn't, he put a finger under her chin and raised it against her wishes. She blinked rapidly and glared up at him, setting her jaw while continuing not to say anything. His eyes searched her face, dropped to her mouth. And then he did the most bizarre, un-Harvard-like thing possible. He pulled her close and took her lips in a blistering kiss.

Taken by surprise, Sydney braced her hands against his solid chest in token resistance. But when he lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his, her fingers automatically curled around the lapels of his jacket. And she heard herself whimper.

His lips were warm and dry. They moved with a surety over hers that made her swoon, bow into his lean, hard body for support. She forgot that she was angry at him, betrayed by his abrupt about-face regarding her bartending freedoms. Instead, she burrowed closer into his body, crushed her breasts against him as his teeth scraped her lips. Her hands roamed up and over his shoulders, dove into the hair at his nape while she steadied his head in her grasp. Yet still his mouth commanded hers, coaxed odd little mewling sounds from deep in her throat as he devoured her.