But in spite of everything, she couldn’t regret their time together. How could she, when she’d finally discovered what it felt like to take risks? To be truly alive? She’d discovered passion that had been like a fire consuming her body, making her soul blaze like a beacon in the night.
All right, so she’d never see him again. She could accept that, since she had no choice. She could even be grateful for the experience. For the memory.
But what if she was pregnant?
Lilley squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding. She would take the test and find out for sure. It would prove once and for all that she’d just eaten some bad Chinese takeout or something.
Her hands shook as she took the test, then waited. She told herself she wasn’t worried. Hummed a cheerful little lullaby she’d sung to her cousin’s baby in France. Looked at her watch. Two minutes. It was probably too soon to check, but it wouldn’t hurt just to—
Pregnant.
Pregnantpregnantpregnant.
Her shaking hands dropped the stick in the trash as she staggered down the hall and into the kitchen. She found herself with a kettle in her hand and realized she was making tea, just as her mother had always done in times of crisis.
“Sweetheart, there are very few problems in the world that can’t be made better by a hug, a plate of cookies and a cup of tea,” her mother had said, smiling. It had worked like a charm when Lilley was nine and had failed a spelling test, and when she was a teenager and the other kids mocked, “Guess your father can’t buy you a new brain.” It had even worked when her father had asked her sick mother for a divorce, abandoning their family home in Minneapolis to build a huge mansion for his mistress on the shores of Lake Minnetonka.
She swallowed, trembling as tears filled her eyes. The difference was that her mother had been there. Lilley missed her so much. Paula Smith would have hugged her daughter, told her everything was going to be all right. And Lilley would have believed her.
The kettle screamed. Numbly, Lilley poured boiling water over the fragrant peppermint tea. Holding her steaming, oversized mug in her shaking hands, Lilley went to the couch.
A baby.
She was going to have Alessandro’s baby.
Raw, jagged emotion washed over her. He’d arranged for her to be fired and had offered a job that was three thousand miles away. There was no other explanation for her to be spontaneously head-hunted for a fantastic internship with a New York jewelry company at double her current salary. He wanted Lilley out of San Francisco, so he wouldn’t have to see her scurrying in the halls and could settle down, mouse-free, with his beautiful, sleek bride.
Setting her mug on the end table, she picked up the magazine from the floor. Opening it, she skimmed through the article. Alessandro was holding his annual wine-harvest celebration at his villa in Sonoma. Rumor was that it was going to be an engagement party.
Friday. That was tonight.
Lilley’s fingertips stroked the image of Alessandro’s handsome, cold face. She’d been so sure he would want to see her again. For the last month, she’d jumped every time her cell phone rang. She’d had such naive faith. She’d expected him to call, send flowers, a card, something. He hadn’t.
But it turned out he had given her something, the greatest gift any woman could receive. A baby. She placed her hand on her soft belly. She’d always disliked her plump figure, wishing she could be thin and athletic. But now she realized her extra pounds didn’t matter. Her amazing body was creating a baby. How could she be anything but grateful to it?
How would Alessandro react when she told him?
The memory of his harsh voice came floating back to her. I will not marry you. I will not love you.
She’d known from the beginning that Alessandro only considered her a fling. He’d been honest from the start. If Lilley had a broken heart, she was the only one to blame, because she’d allowed herself to hope for more.
Setting down the magazine, Lilley rose to her feet and walked to the tiny window in her pink fleece robe. Opening the gingham curtains, she looked out into the quiet street, remembering the night she’d made the choice that had changed her life so completely, the night she’d decided to give her virginity to Alessandro.
She would regret leaving San Francisco. She’d come to love the city, and had even become friends again with Jeremy and Nadia. Perhaps she would come to appreciate New York. But she would be going alone.
Then she remembered: she’d never be alone again.
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 V
alley 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.”
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