A Night of Living Dangerously Read online

She placed her hand on her belly as a wave of joy, sudden and unexpected as a child’s laugh, washed over her. How could she be sad about how her time with Alessandro had ended, when he’d given her such a gift?

  And the grip around her heart loosened. She would leave, as he wanted. But there was one thing she had to do first. She couldn’t exactly make an appointment to see him via Mrs. Rutherford, who was highly skilled at blocking former lovers from contacting him. And this wasn’t the sort of news she wished to convey via his business email address. He’d deliberately never given her his private phone number. So as unpalatable as it was, that left only one option.

  Picking up the magazine, she looked down at his hard, handsome face, and at the image of the villa in Sonoma where they’d first made love. Where he’d taken her virginity. Where he’d filled her with his child.

  Before she left him forever, she had to tell Alessandro he was going to be a father.

  “Alessandro, at last.” Olivia’s sultry voice immediately set Alessandro’s nerves on edge. “Did you miss me, darling?” Forcing his lips into a smile, Alessandro turned to face her, his shoulders tight. He’d seen her arrive through the window of his study. His first party guest to arrive tonight.

  It was unlike Olivia to be early to anything, so that meant she’d heard the rumors. And unfortunately the rumors were true.

  The five-carat diamond ring in his jacket pocket felt like an anchor, heavy enough to drag him down through the floors of his villa, through his wine cellar and continuing straight to hell.

  “I’ve missed you.” Olivia gave him a smile that showed her white teeth. She was impeccably dressed as always, in a black one-shoulder cocktail dress that showed off her tanned body, muscular and slender from hours of running and self-denial. As she came towards him, her diamond bangles jangled noisily on her skinny wrist. She’d be the perfect Caetani bride, he told himself firmly.

  And he needed to settle down before he became every bit as reckless and corrupt as his father. His night with Lilley had shown that all too clearly.

  Alessandro pushed away the memory of Lilley’s big trusting eyes and soft, sensual body that always hovered on the edge of his consciousness. He never should have allowed himself to touch her. Never.

  Olivia came forward to kiss his mouth, but at the last moment, his head twisted away, causing her lips to land squarely on his cheek. His body’s abrupt reaction surprised them both. Surely his body, at least, should have been pleased to see her? He hadn’t had sex for a month. And what a hellish month it had been.

  She drew back, her eyes offended. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” What could he say? That he’d missed her while he was in Mexico City? That he’d thought of her when he’d lost his bid on Joyería to his most hated rival, that French bastard Théo St. Raphaël?

  The truth was that it hadn’t been Olivia’s face he’d yearned to see the night he’d suffered that bitter disappointment.

  He’d hungered for a different woman’s face. Her soft body. Her kind heart.

  Alessandro took a deep breath. Lilley was likely already packing for New York. She almost certainly hated him now. He could only imagine how she’d felt this past month since he’d abandoned her without even the bare courtesy of a farewell. Usually his one-night stands at least got flowers.

  But his coldness was deliberate. He was being cruel to be kind.

  Olivia’s red lips lifted into a determined smile. “I was so glad when you called me,” she murmured. “I was almost starting to think you’d broken up with me.”

  “I did.” He stared down at her. “I do not care for ultimatums.”

  “Lesson learned,” she said, still smiling, though it did not meet her eyes. She tucked her hand into his own. Her skin felt cool. She had no softness, either of body or soul. “I’m glad we’re back together. We’re perfect for each other, aren’t we?”

  Alessandro looked down at her beautiful face, her big green eyes and sharp, hollow cheekbones. Physically, she didn’t have a single flaw. She would fit well into his world. No one would ever be able to hurt her or criticize her performance as his principessa. “Sì,” he said tightly. “Perfetto.”

  They walked down the hall towards the two-story foyer. From the landing, he saw many new guests had already arrived. This party had been planned in celebration of the early wine harvest, just for a few friends. But six weeks ago, feeling arrogantly certain of impending success with the Joyería deal, he’d invited business associates, thinking it would be the perfect victory lap.

  Instead, the grape harvest was turning weak and the Mexico City deal was a failure. And he was going to propose to Olivia. It wasn’t a celebration. It was a wake.

  With every step, he felt the dead weight of the diamond ring grow heavier in his pocket. He wondered who’d leaked the story about him purchasing it in Mexico City. Some underpaid store clerk, most likely. He’d carried it for over a week now, but he’d called Olivia only two days ago.

  He’d been dragging his heels, but now he’d made his decision and wouldn’t go back. He was thirty-five and had defiled one virgin too many. He’d selfishly and ruthlessly possessed Lilley, when he’d known it would ultimately bring her pain. He’d sworn he’d never be like his selfish, callous father. And yet, seducing his innocent, brokenhearted file-room girl, he’d come perilously close.

  Olivia’s cool, bony arm twisted hard around his as they walked down the stairs. The weather forecast was calling for thunderstorms, so the party had been moved indoors from the pool, although many guests had remained outside. He could hear a jazz trio playing in the ballroom, and he saw friends and business acquaintances from Silicon Valley. The men wore suits similar to Alessandro’s, and their wives wore shiny cocktail dresses, and everyone was drinking his wine. He should be enjoying this … shouldn’t he?

  He heard Bronson arguing loudly at the door. His normally staid butler seemed to be struggling with an unwanted guest. “Service entrance is at the back,” Bronson insisted, trying to close the door.

  “I’m not here for a delivery!” a woman said, pushing at the door. “I’m here to see Alessandro!”

  The butler sucked in his breath as if she’d just insulted his mother. “Alessandro?” he repeated in disbelief. “You mean His Serene Highness, Prince Alessandro Caetani?”

  “Yes!”

  “The prince is currently hosting a party,” Bronson said coldly, his tone clearly adding and is unavailable to the

  likes of you. “Make an appointment though his secretary. Good evening.”

  But as he started to slam the door, the woman blocked him with a foot. “I’m sorry to be rude,” she begged, “but I’m leaving in the morning and have to see him. Tonight.”

  Prickles went down Alessandro’s neck.

  He knew that sweet voice. It was clear as a freshwater lake to a man dying of thirst. Dropping Olivia’s hand, he went down the stairs to where white-haired, dignified Bronson was struggling with the door like an American bouncer at a bar. The butler panted, “Unhand the door this instant—”

  Grabbing the door over his head, Alessandro wrenched it open. The butler turned. “Your highness,” he gasped. “I’m sorry for this interruption. This woman has been trying to force her way into your party. I don’t know how she talked her way past security at the gate, but …”

  “It’s all right,” Alessandro said, hardly knowing what he was saying, staring at the woman from his dreams on the doorstep.

  Lilley looked even more beautiful than she had a month ago. Her long brown hair was swept back in a ponytail, her face was bare of makeup. Unlike all the other women squeezed into tight girdles and barely able to move in sequined dresses, Lilley wore a simple tank top and a flowery cotton skirt, a casual summery outfit that effortlessly showed off her stunning curves. She shone like an angel standing in front of the distant dark storm clouds over the horizon.

  “Alessandro,” Lilley whispered, looking at him. The pupils of her large, limpid eyes seemed to dilate,
and the honey-brown gaze pulled him into their endless sweet depths. Hearing her speak his name, he felt electrified.

  “Security!” his butler cried, motioning to a bodyguard on the other side of the room. Alessandro grabbed Bronson’s arm.

  “I will handle this,” he growled. “Thank you.”

  Mollified, the butler nodded and backed away. “Of course, sir.”

  Taking Lilley gently by the arm, Alessandro pulled her inside the foyer. She looked up at him, her lips parted.

  His hand involuntarily tightened, his fingers trembling at the point of contact against her soft skin. Waves of sensual memories washed over his unwilling body. The last time they’d been together, they’d made love in every room here, including this foyer. He looked at the wall behind her. There.

  Suddenly choking with need, he felt an overwhelming drive to carry her up to his bed—to claim her body as his own. He’d thought being away from Lilley would make him forget. It had only made him want her more.

  Blood roared in his ears as he reached around her and closed the heavy oak door. Dropping Lilley’s arm, he folded his hands to keep himself from touching her. He said hoarsely, “You shouldn’t have come.”

  She took a deep breath. “I had no choice.”

  “What is she doing here?” Olivia demanded peevishly in English behind him. “Did you invite her, Alessandro?”

  Oh yes, Olivia. He’d forgotten her completely. He glanced back at her, irritated. “No, I did not invite her.” He turned back to Lilley. “Why are you here?”

  Lilley moved closer to him, a soft smile on her lips. Her brown eyes were luminous, catching at his soul. She seemed like a creature from another world, a kinder one filled with magic and innocence. Her pretty face was suffused with a strange glow. “I came to see you.”

  He stared at her, bewildered. I came to see you. No pretense? No games? No story about just being in the

  neighborhood? He hardly knew how to deal with such straightforward, vulnerable honesty. He’d had so little experience with it.

  “You weren’t invited,” Olivia said coldly. “You need to leave.”

  It was clear by her scowl that she’d recognized Lilley as the woman Alessandro had taken to the Preziosi di Caetani ball. Olivia glared at her as if she hoped the hot laser beam of her eyes might cause the younger woman to burst into flame.

  But looking back at Olivia, Lilley’s gaze didn’t have a shred of anger or even fear. Instead, she looked at the Italian heiress with something almost like … sympathy.

  “I’m not here to cause a scene,” Lilley said quietly. “I just need to speak to Alessandro, alone. Please. It will only take a moment.”

  “Alessandro doesn’t want to talk to you.” When he remained silent, Olivia tossed her head, giving Lilley a nasty glare. “Get out before I throw you out, you cheap little—file clerk.”

  But her attempted insult seemed to roll right off Lilley like water off a duck’s back. She turned back to Alessandro with a soft smile. “May I please speak to you? Alone?”

  Being alone with Lilley, mere minutes before he planned to propose to Olivia, was a bad idea. A very bad idea. He opened his mouth to tell Lilley firmly that she must go. Instead, his body twisted and he heard himself saying in Italian, “Will you please excuse us?”

  Olivia drew back with a hiss between her teeth, visibly furious. “Certainly,” she said coldly. “I’ll go greet the mayor and my good friend Bill Hocking,” she said, referring to a well-known Silicon Valley billionaire. Her warning couldn’t have been clearer. But suddenly he didn’t give a damn.

  “Grazie,” he answered mildly, as if utterly oblivious of her affronted fury.

  With a scowl, Olivia turned on her heel and stomped away, her bare back looking almost skeletal in the black one-shouldered gown.

  Alessandro looked back down at Lilley, who, with her soft body and simple cotton clothes seemed even more impossibly alluring than he remembered.

  Amidst all the noise around them, the jazz music, the soft clink of wineglasses and laughter of guests, he felt as if they were alone. “I never expected to see you again,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you crashed my party.”

  She smiled. “Really brave of me, right? Or really stupid.”

  “Brave and stupid are often the same thing.”

  Lilley shook her head, and he saw unshed tears in her eyes as she laughed. “I’m glad to see you, Alessandro. I’ve missed you.”

  Hearing her leave herself so vulnerable, he felt it again—that odd twisting in the vicinity of his heart. “But you shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

  Her eyes met his. “Because this is an engagement party.”

  Alessandro tried to keep his face blank. “You read gossip magazines.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Bracing himself, he waited for the inevitable scene, for her tears and recriminations. Instead, she just gave him a wistful smile.

  “I want you to be happy.” She lifted her chin. “If Olivia is truly the one, I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

  Alessandro’s jaw fell open. It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. He took a deep breath, suddenly uncertain how to proceed.

  “You—aren’t upset?” he said finally. His cheeks became hot as he heard how foolish the words sounded to his own ears.

  “There’s no point to being upset over something I cannot change.” She stared down at the marble floor. “And I truly didn’t come to cause a scene.”

  “Then why did you?”

  She looked up, her eyes luminous and wide. Beneath the darkening light of the upper windows, her eyes were the color of a mountain stream. Not just brown, he realized. Her eyes were a thousand shades, depths of green and blue and amber like a deep, ancient river.

  “I have something to tell you before I can leave San Francisco.”

  Leave? Why on earth would she leave? Then Alessandro remembered he’d convinced a friend to offer her a job in New York. When he’d been in Mexico City, enduring night after night of hot dreams, he’d thought sending her three thousand miles away from San Francisco was the only sane thing to do. Now, he thought it the stupidest idea he’d ever conceived. His shoulders tightened. “Lilley—”

  The doorbell rang, and as Bronson hesitantly came towards the door Alessandro grabbed Lilley’s hand. He pulled her out of the foyer, away from the hubbub of the party, leading her down a side hall.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, not resisting him.

  His hand tightened around hers. “Where we can be alone.”

  Turning down a second hallway towards a quiet wing, Alessandro tried to ignore how right her hand felt in his own, tried not to feel the enticing warmth of her soft skin. But as he pulled her into the music room where he often hosted concerts and parties, the large room suddenly felt small, the temperature hot and stifling. As he walked around the grand piano and past the Picasso on the wall, his tie felt tight around his neck. He just kept walking through the music room. Opening the sliding glass doors, he pulled her into a small private garden.

  Outside, the air was cool. The garden was green and stark, just a lawn, really, surrounded on three sides by a ten-foot privet hedge that separated them from the poolside terrace. On the other side of the hedge, he could hear muffled conversation and the clink of wineglasses as guests milled around the Olympic-size pool and terrace.

  Alessandro realized he was still holding Lilley’s hand. He looked down at their intertwined fingers. She followed his gaze and he heard her intake of breath, felt her tremble.

  Their eyes met in the rapidly deepening twilight. The sky above the villa was dark with threatening clouds, and he heard a distant rumble of thunder. He heard the wind howl through the trees. Lilley’s full cotton skirt swirled around her legs.

  Electricity filled the air as the temperature seemed to drop five degrees around them. But Alessandro still felt hot, burning from the storm inside him. Desire arced though him, and with an intake of breath, he dropp
ed her hand.

  Lilley deserved better than a series of cheap one-night stands. For her sake, he couldn’t risk her loving him. And for his own sake … he couldn’t risk caring for her. He’d learned long ago to trust no one. Sex and money were real. Love was a lie.

  He knew this, but his body shook with the effort of not touching her, from not putting his arms around her and sinking into her softness and warmth. He tightened his hands into fists.

  “Why did you come?” he ground out.

  Colorful fairy lights high in the trees swayed violently in the rising wind. A flash of lightning illuminated Lilley’s stricken face.

  “You’re in love with Miss Bianchi, aren’t you?”

  He set his jaw. “I told you. Marriage is a mutually beneficial alliance. Love has nothing to do with it.”

  “But surely you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life without love.” Long tendrils of soft brown hair blew across her face as she searched his gaze. Her expression faltered. “Would you?”

  Thunder crackled in the sky above. Alessandro heard gasps from the other side of the hedge as the first raindrops fell, and guests ran back inside the villa.

  “Just tell me what you have to say, then leave,” he said tightly.

  Lilley blinked, then looked down at the grass beneath her feet. “This is hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be.”

  Rain began to fall more heavily. He watched a fat raindrop slide down her rounded cheek to her full, generous mouth. Her pink tongue unconsciously darted out to lick the thick drop of rain against her full, sweetly sensual lips, and he nearly groaned.

  He had to get her out of here before he did something they’d both regret forever. Why had he ever allowed himself to take a single forbidden taste of what did not belong to him by right?

  “It was a mistake for me to seduce you,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry I ever touched you.”

  She looked up, her eyes bright with grief. “Was it so awful?”

  Awful? A new ache filled his throat. He hated that for the first time in nineteen years, he’d found a heart he did not want to break, and here he was breaking it. “Your first time should have been special, with a man who loved you, who might someday marry you. Not a one-night stand with a man like me.”