Page 16 of Lucas

AVA

Iyank open the front door and slam it shut again.

“Ouch! Is that how you greet all your guests?” Lucas’s muffled voice carries through the wood, his foot wedged in the gap, preventing the door from closing.

I roll my eyes and wrench the door back open. “You’re not a guest. What are you doing here? And how did you get my address? This is stalking, you know.”

He smirks, unruffled. “I told you, I have a business proposition for you. And I have my ways of obtaining information.”

“And I already told you, I’m not interested. Move your foot before I break it.” I put my weight behind the door, fully prepared to crush his toes.

He arches a brow. “You wouldn’t.”

Challenge accepted.

I throw my weight against the door, trying to force it closed with all my might.

“Fuck!” Lucas yelps, yanking his foot back. He hops on one leg, face contorted in pain as he clutches his injured limb.

I allow myself a satisfied smile before moving to shut the door again before he can stop me.

“Open the damn door, Ava!” He grunts, his voice strained. “I just want to talk.”

I ignore him.

“Open the door, or I’m fucking breaking it down.”

I lean my forehead against the wood. “And using physical intimidation is your idea of talking, is it?”

A beat of silence. Then, “You’re right. I apologize. So how about this? Open the door, or I’m going to the press about Gant Construction’s situation. Everyone will know you’re on the verge of bankruptcy. Within a week, you won’t have any employees left.”

I fling the door open, seething through clenched teeth. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Against my better judgment, I sigh and step back, allowing the door to swing open. Lucas straightens, a smug grin plastered across his handsome face. Bastard.

“You have ten minutes to state your case. And if you try anything funny, I’ll scream so loud they’ll hear me in Timbuktu.” I fold my arms across my chest, glowering up at him.

He chuckles as he strides past me into the foyer. “Sweetheart, if I have a woman screaming, it’s usually more like ‘Harder, Lucas’ or ‘I’m coming.’”

I resist the urge to gag. Or punch him. Or both. The absolute nerve of this man. “You’re disgusting. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Is that so?” His blue eyes glitter with challenge as he invades my personal space, crowding me back against the wall. The heat of his body seeps into mine, his crisp cologne flooding my senses. “Shall we test that theory?”

My traitorous heart stutters in my chest, my body sparking to life at his proximity. I swallow hard, hating my visceral reaction to him. I’d rather die a painful death than admit he affects me.

I plant my hands on his solid chest and shove him away, ignoring the way my palms tingle at the contact. “Say what you want to say and get out.”

“Bossy. I like it.” His smirk widens to a full-blown grin as he backs off, hands raised in mocking surrender.

I wrap my thin silk robe tighter around my body, hyperaware of my state of undress. Of course, he would show up unannounced, catching me in my nightclothes.

Lucas makes a slow turn around my living room, taking in the expensive furnishings and tasteful decor with an appraising eye. No doubt comparing it to his own lavish estate. Rich bastard.

He meanders over to the plush leather couch and plops down like he owns the place, spreading his arms across the backrest. “I’ll take a beer if you have one.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t.”