He had that right. I smiled, turned and walked over to the large sofa in the centre of the room. ‘You’re right. I do like being on top.’ I sat down, making zero effort to stop my dress from riding up, and leaned back against the cushions.

Byron stayed where he was. ‘The trouble is,’ he muttered, ‘I like being in charge too.’

I tucked one leg underneath me. It wasn’t easy but it was worth it to see the flare in his eyes. Come on, Byron. Get your arse over here and sit down before you fall down. ‘I suppose that makes us incompatible then,’ I said with a tinge of sadness. ‘Nothing more than ships that pass in the night.’

He still didn’t bloody move. ‘Don’t say that, Integrity,’ he said. ‘I have a feeling that we’re going to know each other for much longer than that.’

‘Really?’ I patted the seat next to me. ‘What makes you say that?’

He seemed to make a decision. He strode over and sat next to me, his thigh dangerously close to mine. I could smell his aftershave again. Delicious.

Byron smirked. ‘What is?’

I started. Had I said that aloud? ‘Er,’ I stuttered, embarrassed. ‘Your scent. It’s delicious.’

His smile grew. ‘Really? Because I think you’re delicious.’

It was the type of comment that would normally have me rolling my eyes. Instead, my chest felt tight and it was like I’d forgotten how to breathe. Byron stared into my eyes, his emerald depths darkening to a deep jade. There was a question lurking there.

My senses swam. Oh, why the hell not? He’d be unconscious before this really got anywhere. I gave the tiniest nod of my head. I’d almost achieved what I’d come here to do; I could allow myself a bit of fun in the process. It would hurt him more tomorrow when he discovered the theft of his sparkly jewel. And he deserved the hurt after the way he’d spoken to me when I was a kid.

Byron didn’t take any further convincing. He gave a faint groan and leaned in, his lips brushing softly against mine. Screw that. If I was going to make this kind of error of judgment, I was going to go all in. I grabbed the back of his head and deepened the kiss, pressing into him. He tasted of whisky and champagne mixed together. His stubble scraped my cheek. I felt dizzy and exhilarated all at once. A kiss shouldn’t feel this good. Especially a kiss with such a wanker. I pulled back, breathing hard. He stared at me, a stunned expression on his face.