Font Size
Line Height

Page 4 of Lucas (The Valeur Billionaires #2)

He arches an eyebrow. “You scheduled a business meeting and don’t know who you’re meeting with? I suppose that explains a lot about how your company operates.”

I feel pinned in place by the intensity of his stare.

“Lucas Valeur. Charmed.” He extends his hand across the table.

I ignore it. How rude of him not to even rise to greet me.

I followed Logan Valeur’s career trajectory closely.

He seemed to be on the golden path to succeeding his father, but then Logan retired after the revelation that he was adopted.

I hadn’t researched the other siblings, not expecting them to be relevant successors, so I know nothing about the other brothers.

I’m not one to indulge in gossip, but does this mean Peter Valeur disinherited Logan? And now Lucas shows up instead of Peter? What does that say about their intentions?

Lucas withdraws his hand, looking completely unbothered. “So, you wanted to meet. I assume this is about?—”

“Pearl Garden,” I interject, studying his face. His jaw tightens, and his blue eyes narrow.

“Pearl Garden? What about it? ”

The server arrives, and we both fall silent. She places small plates of salads on the table, explaining each one. I push the dish of olives far away from me, nearly to the edge of the table.

Lucas looks at me questioningly.

“I hate olives,” I explain, though I have no reason to justify myself to him. What business is it of his what I like?

“Pity.” He pops an olive into his mouth.

Gross .

The server finishes setting everything out, takes our entrée orders, and leaves.

“We’re interested in taking over construction of the project,” I continue. “We’d be the general contractor.”

A wide grin spreads across Lucas’s handsome face, and he lets out a low, throaty chuckle.

My stomach clenches. Damn it, why does he have to look so good? I was prepared for his father, a much older man, not a man who could be an underwear model.

An image of him in nothing but boxers flashes through my mind, and I bite my lip to banish it.

“Oh, you’re serious? You think we’d hire a company on the verge of bankruptcy to build one of the largest developments in the area? You must be joking. Or living on Mars.” He’s still snickering.

I stiffen, a trickle of cold sweat sliding down my back. How could he possibly know that? We’ve been so careful to keep our financial woes under wraps for fear of spooking our clients and creditors. If this gets out...

“Gant Construction has been in business for over thirty years and is one of the most well-known firms in the industry. I can assure you that?—”

“Assure me of what?” He tilts his head. “That you won’t go belly up in the middle of the project? No, you can’t. Because unlike you, I actually research who I’m meeting with, Miss Gant. I know you’re in dire straits. And I’m not impressed by the green eyes or the cleavage.”

I wince. Shit. He really did his homework. “We can handle the project. And we’re willing to offer a very attractive price, making it a win-win for both parties.”

“Really?” He leans forward on his elbows, lips curling in a smirk. “What else are you willing to offer?” His eyes roam over my body, lingering on my breasts.

Pig. For someone who just claimed not to be swayed by my cleavage, he sure can’t stop staring at it.

I wouldn’t go out with him if he were the last man on earth. Even if there was a fire and he was the only one who could save me.

“Are you implying that if I sleep with you, you’ll give me the contract?” I clench my fists under the table. I know what my father asked of me, but I can’t, not with this asshole.

“Oh honey, you think I want you? Hardly. I get plenty of pussy for free. The most beautiful women in the world line up for me. You think letting me fuck you would mean anything?” He scoffs. “Is that why you’re so flustered?”

God, he’s arrogant. And repulsive. Who does he think he is? God’s gift to women just because he’s good-looking?

“No. I was just busy being revolted by you and the thought of sleeping with you.”

He grins. “Is that the best you’ve got, Ava?”

“That’s Miss Gant to you.”

“Misssss Gaaant,” he says, drawing out the syllables in a deep purr that shakes me to my core, his smoldering gaze searing into me. “Okay, Miss Gant. I’m happy to fuck your brains out if you beg me, but it won’t change a damn thing about the project.”

I let out a sarcastic laugh. What a joke. He really thinks this crap works on women?

“If I beg? I’m not some desperate woman looking for a man, and I’m not one of your whores. I’m the new VP of Gant Group. And you’re?—”

“No, you’re not one of my partners ,” he says, leaning in just enough to make me feel his presence, his voice dropping to a predatory whisper.

“Because if you were, I’d take my time with you.

Start slow. I’d make you ache with need before you even realized what was happening.

By the time my mouth’s on you, you’d already be shaking.

I’d tease every inch of you until you’re begging—until your body can’t stand it anymore, and then.

.. I’d make you come. Again. And again.”

His eyes darken, his gaze searing into me. “I don’t stop until she’s spent, until she’s too weak to even ask for more. That’s what my women get. But you aren’t one of them, are you?”

I swallow hard, the spot between my legs throbbing.

I hate him.

Enough.

“God, you’re vulgar.”

“I’m more than vulgar, baby. I can be crude in other ways too. And I definitely know how to satisfy a woman in bed. There’s nothing I won’t do.”

I purse my lips and press my thighs together tighter.

“Based on how flushed your cheeks are and your hard nipples, you’re definitely into my crudeness.

” His gaze is glued to my chest. “But if you think all it takes to close a deal is flashing some cleavage, you’ve got it all wrong.

You want to play in the big leagues? That takes more than just showing off your tits. ”

I cross my arms over my breasts. “You’re insufferable. I should sue you. How can anyone even negotiate with a repulsive jerk like you?” I stand, my chair scraping across the tiled floor.

Lucas remains seated, leaning back with a smug expression. “That’s your mistake, Miss Gant,” he says in a low, dangerous tone. “I had no intention of negotiating.”