A Night of Living Dangerously

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A Night of Living Dangerously Page 5

by Jennie Lucas


  “Drive,” he ordered the chauffeur.

  The uniformed driver gunned the engine, roaring away from the curb and plummeting down the steep San Francisco hill. Lilley exhaled as she looked through the window behind them. “Are they always like that?”

  “Yes. Take the alleys,” Alessandro said. “In case they follow.”

  “Of course, sir. The penthouse?”

  “Sonoma.” Alessandro replied, rolling up the privacy divider.

  “Sonoma?” Lilley echoed.

  He turned to her with a sensual, heavy-lidded smile. “I have a villa. It will give us complete privacy.”

  She swallowed. This was all happening so fast. “I don’t know …”

  He gave her a wicked half grin. “I swear I’ll have you back in the city safe and sound before work on Monday.”

  Work! As if that was what she was worried about! Exhaling, Lilley noticed two plates of delicious food and white wine chilling in a bucket of ice. As the divider closed with a thunk, blocking off the driver’s view of the back seat, she looked nervously at Alessandro. She’d been starving for hours, but suddenly dinner was the last thing on her mind.

  Smiling, he put his hand on her cheek. She could see slivers of silvery light reflected in his fathomless black eyes as he whispered, “I thought a woman like you existed only in dreams.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “You mean nice?” She felt a sudden lump in her throat. “Sweet?”

  He gave a low laugh. “You have a way of turning my every compliment into an insult. But yes. You are those things.” His hand slowly trailed down her neck, his fingertips stroking the sensitive corner of her shoulder, the hollow of her collarbone. “But that’s not why I’m taking you home.”

  “It isn’t?” she breathed.

  “I want you in my bed.” His gaze was hot. His thumb stroked her sensitive bottom lip, and sparks flashed up and down the length of her body. “I’ve never wanted any woman this much. I want to taste your mouth. Taste your breasts. To feel your body against mine and fill you until you weep with joy. I won’t stop until I am satisfied.” He stroked her jawline, tilting her face upward as he whispered, “Until you are satisfied.”

  She trembled, hardly able to breathe. His mouth was inches from hers, and her lower lip fell swollen, burning where he’d touched her. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. Unconsciously, she tilted her head back, lifting her mouth a millimeter closer to his.

  His hand slid down her neck, past her bare shoulder. “I offer you a night of pleasure. Nothing more.” His palm caressed the length of her arm to the vulnerable pulse inside her wrist. “And nothing less.”

  Her heart pounded in her throat. She had to refuse him. Had to. She couldn’t possibly toddle off to his villa in Sonoma and give her boss her virginity. There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea.

  But her body refused to heed her brain. She felt as if she was spiraling out of control. She craved his darkness. Craved his fire. “A woman would have to be a fool,” she breathed, “to get involved with a man like you.”

  The ghost of a smile haunted Alessandro’s cruel, sensual mouth. He cupped her face with both hands.

  “We all must choose in this life,” he said, searching her gaze. “The safety of a prison, or the terrible joy that comes with freedom.”

  She stared up at him, stricken. He seemed to know the secret desires and fears of her innermost heart.

  As if in slow motion, he lowered his mouth to hers, whispering, “Live dangerously.”

  She closed her eyes.

  His kiss was electric, like sensual fire. She felt the smooth hot satin of his lips, felt the roughness of his chin, the powerful strength of his arms around her. The heat of his tongue was like liquid silk softly stroking inside her mouth. Sparks of pleasure spiraled down her body, making her breasts taut and heavy, tightening a coil of tension low and deep in her belly. Her nerve endings sizzled from her fingertips to her toes.

  She felt as if she were exploding into pure light.

  When he pulled away, she heard the low, hoarse gasp of his breath—or was it her own?

  She stared up at him, knowing she’d remember that first kiss until the day she died.

  Streaks of light moved across their skin as the limousine traveled through the city. They stared at each other, and Lilley’s cheeks burned like the rest of her. She’d never known a dream could feel so real. So warm. So hot. She felt as if she were floating—flying. She blinked, feeling dizzy. She could almost see a trail of scattered diamonds sparkling against her skin where he’d touched her, like synesthesia.

  Prince Alessandro Caetani could have had any woman he wanted. And he wanted her. He moved towards her, gently pushing her back against the leather seat, and she felt the hard weight of his body over her own. She felt his hands on her skin, and suddenly, she no longer felt like a timid, cowardly mouse.

  She felt beautiful.

  Powerful.

  Reckless.

  In his arms, she wasn’t afraid. Of anything.

  She closed her eyes, tossing back her head as he kissed down her throat with his hot, sensual mouth. “No one’s ever made me feel like this,” she breathed. “Touched me like this.”

  “I …” Suddenly his hands stilled against her skin. His head lifted. “But you’ve had other lovers,” he said. “At least two.”

  Her eyes opened. She swallowed. “Not … exactly.”

  “How many have you had?”

  “Technically, well … none.”

  He sat up, looking at her with wide, shocked eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a virgin?”

  She sat up beside him, her mouth suddenly dry. “Is that a problem?”

  He glared at her, his jaw hard. Turning, he pressed the button to lower the privacy shield.

  “Sir?” the driver said courteously, not turning his head.

  “Change of plans,” Alessandro said. “We’re taking Miss Smith home.”

  “What?” Lilley gasped. Her cheeks burned. “Why? That …” she glanced uneasily at the driver in the front seat, “that thing I just told you doesn’t matter!”

  Alessandro turned to Lilley with cold eyes. “Give Abbott your address.”

  Folding her arms, Lilley muttered out the address of her apartment building. The driver nodded and smoothly turned left at the next streetlight. Lilley waited for Alessandro to roll the limo’s dividing window back up so they could have privacy. But he didn’t, and she realized he intended to leave it open, keeping the driver as their de facto chaperone.

  Setting her jaw, Lilley turned to stare out the window at the passing lights of the city. Her body felt suddenly cold. She felt bereft. Alone.

  As they drove into the increasing traffic of the city, Alessandro wouldn’t even look at her. Sulkily, Lilley picked up a plate of food. The dinner was delicious, but cold, and epicurean pleasures suddenly seemed small. The plate was empty by the time they reached her working-class neighborhood, when she realized that Alessandro really, truly did not intend to kiss her again.

  Kiss her? He wasn’t even going to look at her. Her night of magic, her time of feeling reckless and beautiful, was definitely over. But she couldn’t accept it. After the brief, explosive joy she’d experienced so briefly in his arms, she couldn’t just shrug off her loss and go quietly back to her empty apartment!

  Her heart hammered in her throat. “You’re making a fuss over nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

  Alessandro looked at her. The lights and shadows of the city swept over the hard, angular lines of his cheekbones and jaw. “It is to me.”

  Glancing uneasily at the driver, she leaned towards Alessandro. “Just because I am slightly less experienced than your other lovers—”

  “Do you not understand what I was offering?” he bit out. “A night. Perhaps two. Nothing more!”

  “I wasn’t asking for more!” she said, affronted.

  “I will never go home to meet your parents, Lilley. I will not
marry you.” His dark eyes were furious. “I will not love you.”

  A pang went through her at his cold words, but she lifted her chin in defiance. “Who said I wanted love?”

  “Virgins always do.” He looked her up and down. “Do not be stupid, Lilley.”

  Stupid. Her cheeks felt suddenly cold as echoes of childhood taunts from school went through her. Fri-lly, Li-lley, stupid and si-lly!

  Alessandro stared out the window, his jaw like stone. His body language informed her that he was done talking, his decision made.

  The limo pulled to a stop at her building. The driver got out and opened her door. The night air rushed in, cool and clammy against her burning skin.

  “Good night,” Alessandro said coldly, not turning his head.

  “This is really how you’re going to end our date?” she whispered. “Kissing me—then kicking me to the curb?”

  He turned, and his black eyes glowed like dying embers as a hard smile lifted his lips. “Now, cara, at last you understand what it means to be my lover.”

  Lilley stared at him. “I understand, all right,” she choked out. Tears filled her eyes as she turned away. “You don’t want me.”

  “Not want you?” he demanded.

  She looked back, miserable and bewildered. “Yes, you just said—”

  “I am saving you from a mistake,” he said harshly. “Be grateful.”

  She swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “Good-bye.”

  She stepped out onto the curb in front of her 1960s-era apartment building. She took a deep breath of the cool night air and looked down her dark, empty street, littered with parked cars. An old newspaper blew down the black asphalt like a tumbleweed. She’d only lived here two months, but she’d been in this same place for far too long. In France. In Minnesota.

  Her apartment building towered over her, seeming almost malevolent in the darkness. She knew what waited for her there, too. Nadia would be out dancing with Jeremy all night, and Lilley would be alone. She’d curl up on the couch beneath her mother’s old handmade quilt and watch television shows about other people’s lives. Maybe she’d take a long bath, then lights out.

  Was that doomed to be her whole life’s fate?

  She would never have left her cushy job as a housekeeper in France if her cousin hadn’t been mean to the mother of his child, causing Lilley to quit her job in solidarity in an instinctive, emotional reaction that would have made her mother proud. But that had been the end of Lilley’s courage. From the instant she’d set foot in San Francisco, she’d done nothing but hide.

  We all must choose in this life, Alessandro had said. The safety of a prison. Or the terrible joy that comes with freedom.

  “Lilley.” His voice was hoarse in the limo behind her. “Damn you. Just go.”

  With an intake of breath, she turned back to face him. Without a word, without letting herself think, she climbed back into the limo. She felt his shocked stare, heard his intake of breath as she slammed the door behind her.

  “Do you know the choice you’re making?” he demanded harshly.

  Her body trembled as she looked at him. “I used to dream of my first lover,” she whispered. “I dreamed of a knight in shining armor who would adore me forever.”

  “And now?” he bit out.

  “I’m just tired of being afraid.” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Tired of hiding from my own life.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Then, pressing the button to close the divider, he spoke a single word to the driver. “Sonoma.”

  Lilley watched the divider lift higher, higher. It finally closed with a thunk, the noise reverberating like a door slamming behind her.

  Then Alessandro moved. She had a single image of the dark heat of his eyes, the curve of his cruel, sensual mouth, as he pushed her back against the leather seat. Then his powerful body covered hers in a rough, ruthless embrace. His lips seared hers in a hot, hard kiss of sweetly poisonous honey.

  Opening her mouth to his plunging tongue, she gave him—everything.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AN HOUR later, as Alessandro carried her from the limo, Lilley blinked up at him in the moonlight, feeling drunk on his kisses. She felt hot, so hot. As he held her against his chest, she swayed with every step. The night was clear and the moon glowed in the velvet-black sky.

  His Spanish-style villa was surrounded by rolling vineyards frosted with silvery light. In the distance, she could hear night birds calling.

  The drive from the city had passed in seconds, it seemed, drenched with kisses. When the limo had arrived at the villa, she’d been so light-headed and breathless that she’d opened the door and fallen into a sprawl on the gravel driveway. Alessandro had picked her up in his strong arms, his gaze full of heat for what was to come.

  Now, as the limo disappeared down the driveway, Lilley looked up at him in wonder. The stars seemed to move over his dark head, twinkling magically in the night sky.

  She felt intoxicated, and she’d had only a glass and a half of champagne at the ball. There could be no doubt what—who—was drugging her senses.

  At the door, he held her with one arm and punched in a security code. Around the villa, she briefly saw a pool and tennis courts and vast vineyards beyond. Then he opened the door with his shoulder and carried her inside, kicking the heavy door closed behind him.

  Inside, the villa was dark and silent as he carried her up the 1920s-era wrought-iron stairs. He didn’t have to say a word. She saw the whole sensual world in his dark eyes.

  Upstairs, he pushed open a door at the end of the hall. She saw an enormous bed lit by a flood of moonlight from the windows. Reverently, he put her down on it. She shivered beneath the pool of silvery light as, never looking away from her, Alessandro pulled off his tuxedo tie and jacket and dropped them to the floor. He kicked off his shoes then climbed into bed beside her.

  His hands were everywhere as he kissed her swollen lips. His embrace deepened, became hungrier and harder as his mouth pressed against hers, so hot and wet. His tongue twined with her own, and his hands cupped her breasts over the thin fabric of her gown, causing a gasp at the back of her throat. He stroked down to her waist, caressing her bare, shaking arms. Finally, he cradled her face and kissed her again with deepening fervor. She kissed him back with all the reckless passion of twenty-three lonely years.

  There is nothing but now, she thought, dazed. Nothing but this.

  She gasped as his hands moved beneath the clinging fabric of her bodice to her naked breasts. Her nipples tightened to hard points, sharpening in exquisite pleasure as he squeezed each of them gently between his fingers. Suddenly, he yanked the dress down, causing the spaghetti straps to snap as the fabric surrendered.

  He showed rough brutality to her dress. But he caressed her body as if she were a precious, fragile treasure. His lips were hot against her skin as he moved down, nibbling her chin, licking her throat. She gasped as his large hands covered her full, naked breasts, squeezing each nipple, holding up each as a delicacy for the pleasure of his mouth. When he lowered his head, she felt the moist heat of his breath against her nipple and gripped the white bedspread beneath her. She held her breath as his entire mouth enfolded her nipple, suckling gently, his tongue swirling against her tight, swollen peak. She inhaled in tiny, desperate gasps as his hot, wet mouth moved to suckle the other breast in turn.

  His hand stroked up her bare leg, dragging up the hemline of her long dress. The heavy weight of his hard, muscular body pressed her down into the softness of the bed, and she felt his fingertips languidly explore up her bare calf to caress the hollow behind her knee. As he suckled her breast, his hand continued to move upwards.

  Stroking her outer thigh.

  Her inner thigh.

  She gripped the mattress, holding her breath. Alessandro lifted his mouth from her wet, hard nipple. Straddling her, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed his platinum and diamond cufflinks carelessly to the floor. Wearing only his black tuxed
o trousers, he moved down, between her legs, and she had her first look at the hard ripples and shadows of his bare chest in the moonlight. She bit down hard on her lip to stifle a gasp. His shoulders were broad, his muscles strong and powerful as an athlete’s. The edges of his flat nipples were dusted lightly with dark hair that made a trail down his taut, defined belly before disappearing beneath his waistband. There wasn’t an inch of fat anywhere on his body. She could hardly comprehend so much masculine beauty; he was like a dark angel.

  At the end of the bed, Alessandro slid the dress off her unresisting body. Looking down, she realized she’d lost her high heels. Where? She couldn’t remember. In the limo? Outside the villa? On the stairs …? It was all a sensual blur, and she was lost, utterly lost in sensation.

  He pulled off his trousers and silk boxers, and Lilley’s lips parted as she got a full look at the first wholly naked man she’d ever seen. And what a man. Her eyes traced over his powerful thighs, the strength of his body. And in the middle. She swallowed as her own breath suddenly choked her. Alessandro was huge. He would never fit inside her. Would he? Could he? How? Someone had made a mistake!

  His dark eyes glowed in the shadows as he approached. She felt hypnotized, unable to move, unable even to cover her naked breasts or her lacy panties with her hands. He lay down beside her, turning her body to face him, and ran two fingertips down her side, from her shoulder to the swell of her breast to the valley of her waist and curve of her hip. She trembled, overwhelmed, helpless with desire.

  Taking her hand, he gently suckled two of her fingers. Pulling her fingers from his mouth, he held her hand against his naked chest, looking at her. He seemed to be waiting. For what? What could he want … what could he expect from her …?

  Taking her courage in her hands, shivering with her own daring, she leaned up and kissed him. His lips were hot and hard against hers, and as he let her set the rhythm, her confidence grew. A sigh of pleasure escaped her as he pushed her back against the soft pillows with a low growl, and covered her body with his own.

 

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