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He didn't want practical. He wanted her, in his bed every night until they burned out this conflagration of desire between them. "We'll have the night together," he pointed out, not sure why he had to.
Surely, that was obvious.
"More sex?" she asked, sounding surprised. "I've never had so much sex in a week, maybe even a month, much less a weekend."
He liked hearing that. Which was strange. Although he expected monogamy during his temporary liaisons, he was not a possessive lover. However, with Rowan, all his atavistic instincts were kicking in.
"Probably." He grinned at her, feeling…happy. That was not usually a word he used to describe himself.
Driven. Focused. Determined. All those and more, but happy? It was odd. He liked it, though.
She gave him an assessing look. "You're way less grumpy than I remember."
"I am not grumpy," he said, feeling offended. He wasn't antisocial, just not overly friendly. It was necessary to maintain a certain distance from others.
"You hardly ever smile. That first time we danced, I thought you were angry at me."
"I was not angry with you." He'd been furious to learn she was married to his estranged half-brother.
Lysander had been attracted to Rowan from the first moment he saw her luscious curves in no way diminished by her designer gown's attempt at modesty. She was beautiful, and everything he found sexually appealing in a woman, but she'd been married.
That she was tied to his selfish prick of a sibling only made it worse.
"Oh, I figured that out. Cyrus was mad, but I figured out that you pretty much frown at everybody."
"I do not frown at everyone. A lack of a smile is not de facto a frown. My most common expression is neutral boredom." At least when surrounded by people like his father and brother.
Lysander did not enjoy superficial and made no attempt to pretend he did.
"Um, if you say so, but you have to admit that you don't bother with polite conversation either."
He shrugged. "When a man with my wealth and influence smiles at someone, they take it as an invitation to make an approach."
Could he sound more pretentious? But what he said was true.
"And that's a bad thing?" she asked.
"They almost always ask for something. Usually money."
"The price of success, I guess. I'll probably hit you up for a donation for the foundation I work for too sometime."
Why didn't that bother him? Because she was so open about it? Or just because it was her?
"Anyway, I'm sure some people just want a chance to talk to you. You're like a celebrity." Her tone was teasing.
So, he ignored the celebrity remark. "I have no time for small talk."
She laughed softly, like he'd been joking. He wasn't.
"My father and Cyrus excel at discussing golf, stock prices and the next big thing. They smile a lot too," she said, like she was thinking about that and wasn't sure what she thought.
"And that signifies what?" Lysander asked. "Both are men that would approach me for business capital with the least encouragement. Even my half-brother, who refuses to speak to me otherwise, would leverage our tenuous family ties if he thought he had a chance of sharing in a business venture."
Regardless of how they liked to be seen, neither man approached Lysander's wealth or power in the business world. When he'd been younger, he'd had nothing compared to them, but now? He could buy either man several times over. He didn't say that because he didn't think the tender-hearted Rowan would appreciate it.
"You really wouldn't do a business deal with Cyrus?" she asked. "I always thought that was all in his head. You don't go out of your way to be rude to him."
Not like his brother, she meant. Cyrus got his petty thrills from making it obvious that though their father acknowledged Lysander as a son, Cyrus would never acknowledge him as a brother. He was sure the other man regretted taking that stance now, but he was too entrenched in it to backtrack without losing major face.
