A Night of Living Dangerously (6 page)

“All good things come to an end,” he said, holding out his hand.

Reluctantly, she took it. He led her across the ballroom, stopping many times to say farewell to his friends and admirers before they finally escaped up the stairs, through the foyer and out the double doors.

Outside, beneath the hundred-year-old mansion’s shadowy portico, the August night was foggy and cold. “It must be midnight,” she murmured.

“Almost. How did you know?”

“Because all night I’ve felt like Cinderella.” She looked up at him, and gratitude, real gratitude, rose above her regret that the night was over. “Thank you for the best night of my life.”

He blinked, then frowned. Abruptly, he pushed her against a white stone column. She shivered as she felt the cold, hard stone against the hot skin of her back.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not taking you to
your
home.” He paused. “I’m taking you to mine.”

She stared at him in shock, hearing only her own hoarse breath and the rapid beat of her heart.

“You’re my employee. There are rules.” Alessandro’s eyes were dark with heat, his dark hair dappled with streaks of silvery moonlight as he held her beneath the shadows of the portico. “But I’m going to break them,” he whispered. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Staring up at him, Lilley felt as though she was lost in a strange dream. Tendrils of hair whipped across her face; the fabric of her dress moved languorously against her thighs.

“All night I’ve thought of nothing but touching you.” His hands moved down her shoulders to her naked back. He lowered his head to her ear, and she felt his lips brush her tender flesh. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

She closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of his fingers stroke her bare skin, felt his powerful body, barely constrained by his civilized tuxedo, against her own. His fingertips stroked up her neck, and he tilted her head upwards, his face just inches away. She shivered, her lips parted. The two of them were alone in the foggy, moonlit world.

Then she heard paparazzi yapping like small dogs from the curb, barking out questions that were muffled by a sudden howl of cold wind. He twisted away from her sharply. Moonlight caressed the hard edges of his face, making him look like a dark avenging angel as he scowled behind them. He grabbed her wrist.

“Come on.”

He pulled her down the stone steps, past the shouts and flashbulbs of the paparazzi and the reporters who screamed questions and lunged for Lilley as they passed. Alessandro knocked them aside with his powerful arm, gently pushing her into the waiting limousine before he slammed the door behind them.

“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.”