Rumours on the Red Carpet

Thia felt the colour warm her cheeks. ‘Definitely a lot of the latter,’ she muttered, in reference to their previous conversation and heard Lucien Steele chuckle huskily beside her even as she turned to give the still frowning Dex a smile. ‘Mr Steele does like to have his little joke.’

There was no answering smile from the bodyguard as he opened the door for them to leave. ‘I’ve had the car brought round to the front entrance.’

‘Good,’ Lucien Steele bit out shortly, his hand still beneath Thia’s elbow as he strode towards the black limousine parked beside the pavement, its engine purring softly into life even as Dex moved forward to open the back door for them to get inside.

‘I can get a taxi—a cab—from here,’ Thia assured Lucien Steele quickly. His behaviour in the lift wasn’t conducive to her wanting to get into the back of a limousine with him.

‘Get in.’

That compelling expression was back on Lucien Steele’s face as he raised one black brow, standing to one side as he waited for her to get into the back of the limousine ahead of him.

Thia gave a pained frown. ‘I appreciate your help earlier, but I’d really rather just get a cab from here...’

He didn’t speak again, just continued to look down at her compellingly. Because he was so used to everyone doing exactly as he wished them to, whenever he wished it, he had no doubt Thia was going to get into the limousine.

‘I could always just pick you up and put you inside...?’ Lucien Steele raised dark brows.

‘And I could always scream if you tried to do that.’

‘You could, yes.’ He smiled confidently.

‘Or not,’ Thia muttered as she saw the inflexibility in his challenging gaze.

Sighing, she finally climbed awkwardly into the back of the limousine. She barely had enough time to slide across the other side of the seat before Lucien Steele got in beside her. Dex closed the door behind them before getting into the front of the car beside the driver and the car moved off smoothly into the steady flow of evening traffic.

‘I don’t like being ordered about,’ Thia informed Lucien tightly.

‘No?’

‘No!’ She glared her irritation across the dim interior of the car. The windows were of smoked glass, as was the partition between the front and back of the car. ‘Any more than I suspect you do.’ Once again he was intimidating in the close confines of the car, so big and dark, and she could smell his lemon scent again, the insidious musk of the man himself, all mixed together with the expensive smell of the leather interior of the car.

‘That would depend on the circumstances and on what I was being ordered to do,’ he drawled.

Her irritation deepened along with the blush in her cheeks. ‘Do you think you could get your mind out of the bedroom for two minutes?’