Lilley looked up at him, shocked by his unexpected sympathy. Then her lips parted. Sparks spread from his touch, zinging from her earlobes to her scalp, down her neck and spine, causing heat to whirl like lightning across her skin. Her breasts felt strangely heavy, her nipples tightening beneath her workout bra.
His eyes narrowed in surprise. “But you’re beautiful.”
Beautiful? It was like a slap in the face. She ripped away. “Don’t.”
He frowned. “Don’t what?”
His cruelty took her breath away. She blinked fast, glaring up at him. “I know I’m not beautiful. And it’s fine. I know I’m not smart either, and I can live with that. But for you to stand there and taunt me like that …” She gripped her hands into fists. “It’s not just patronizing, it’s heartless!”
Alessandro looked down at her gravely, not saying a word. And Lilley sucked in her breath, realizing she’d just told off her boss.
She clasped her hands together. “I’m fired, right?” When he didn’t reply, a shudder of grief went through her. Her hands shook as she picked up a file from the floor and reached for the metal cart. “I’ll finish my work,” she said miserably, “then collect my things.”
He grabbed her arm, stopping her. “So a compliment is a taunt?” Staring down at her, he shook his head. “You’re a strange girl, Lilley Smith.”
The way Prince Alessandro was looking at her, for an instant she’d almost thought—but no. Strange was a code word for helpless failure. She said over the lump in her throat, “So my father has always told me.”
“You’re not fired.”
She looked up at him with the first glimmer of hope. “I’m not?”
Leaning forward, he took the file from her hand and set it on top of the metal cart. “I have a different sort of penalty in mind.”
“The guillotine?” she said weakly. “The electric chair?”
“You’ll come with me to the ball tonight.”
Her lips fell open. “W-what?”
His dark eyes were as warm as molten chocolate and hot as embers of fire. “I want you to be my date.”
Lilley stared at him, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. Had she fallen into some strange dream? Prince Alessandro could have the most beautiful women on earth—and he’d already had quite a few of them, according to the celebrity tabloids. Frowning, she turned around to make sure he wasn’t talking to some movie star or lingerie model behind her.
“Well, cara?” he said huskily. “What do you say?”
Lilley turned back. She felt dizzy from his attention, half-drunk beneath the intensity of his dark gaze. She said slowly, “I don’t understand.”
“What’s to understand?”
Lilley cleared her throat. “I don’t get the joke.”
“I never joke.”
“You don’t? Too bad. I joke all the time,” she said. “Usually by accident.”
He didn’t even smile. He just looked down at her, his face unmovable and oh, so handsome.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“But—it’s the Preziosi di Caetani ball,” she stammered. “The biggest charity event of the summer. The mayor will be there. The governor. The paparazzi.”
“So?”
“So you could have any woman you want.”
“And I want you.”
His four simple words made Lilley’s heart twist in her chest. She clasped her trembling hands together. “But you have a girlfriend. I’ve read—”
His expression hardened. “No.”
“But Olivia Bianchi—”
“No,” he said tersely.
Biting her lip, Lilley looked up at him. He wasn’t telling her the whole truth. And the waves of danger emanating off his body nearly scorched her. If he found out who Lilley really was, she would lose her job—or possibly get dragged into court on charges of corporate espionage. Every instinct of self-preservation told her one thing: Run.
“Sorry,” she said. “No.”
His eyes widened. She’d clearly shocked him. “Why?”
She bit her lip. “My work—”
“Give me a real reason,” he bit out.
A real reason? How about the fact that she was the daughter of a man he hated, and the cousin of another man he hated even more? Or the biggest reason of all: his strength, power and masculine beauty terrified her, making her heart pound and her body break out in a hot sweat? No man had ever had this effect on her, ever, and she didn’t know what to do. Except run.
“My boyfriend … my ex-boyfriend,” she stumbled, “will be at the ball tonight with my friend—Nadia. So you see I couldn’t possibly go.”
“He’ll be at the ball?” Alessandro’s eyes sharpened. “Do I know him—this man who made you weep?”
“He works in the Preziosi jewelry-design division.”
His eyes gleamed. “All the more reason to go. When he sees you on my arm, he will remember your value and beg you to come back to him. You can accept his groveling or spurn him, as you choose. And the woman will suffer when she sees you as my date.”
She stared up at him in amazement. “You don’t have self-esteem issues, do you?”
He looked at her with an even gaze. “We both know it is true.”
Lilley pressed her lips together, knowing he was right. If she went as his date, she would be the most envied woman in the city—possibly in all of California.
The thought of Nadia and Jeremy groveling at her feet and begging for forgiveness was a delicious one. All the times Lilley had worked late, all the times she’d asked Nadia to please explain to Jeremy and entertain him, and they’d betrayed her. She had no friends in this city now. None.
She lifted her eyes to Alessandro’s. “I’m not a very good dancer.”
He slowly looked her over. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I took ballroom-dancing lessons as a kid, and my teacher asked me to quit. I was like one of those dancing elephants with tutus. All my boyfriends have complained about me stepping on their feet.”
His expression changed, became softer. “Even if that were true,” he murmured, “the fault would be your partner’s, not yours. It is the man’s responsibility to lead.”
She swallowed. “Um. I… I never thought of that. I just assumed I was to blame.”
“You assumed wrong,” he said simply, then lifted his eyebrow. “But just out of curiosity, how many is all?”
“What?”
“All your boyfriends.”
Oh heavens. She couldn’t tell him her pathetic number. She lifted her chin and said with false bravado, “A few.”
“Ten?” he persisted.
The heat in her cheeks deepened as her shoulders slumped. “Two,” she confessed. “A boyfriend in high school, and …” A lump rose in her throat. “… and Jeremy.”
“Jeremy. That is his name? The man who broke your heart?”
“He betrayed me.” She looked at the floor. “But that’s not what broke my heart.”
He waited, but she did not explain. “So go out tonight. Your dancing skills are irrelevant, because we will not dance.”
She looked up at him with a crooked grin. “Afraid of getting your toes stomped?”
“I do not dance.”
Her eyes widened. “What—never?”
“No.”
“But you’re the sponsor of the Preziosi di Caetani ball!”
“It raises money for my favorite charity and gets good press for Caetani Worldwide,” he said coldly. “That’s what I care about. Dancing does not interest me.”
“Oh,” Lilley said uncertainly. She bit her lip. “I see.”
But she didn’t see at all. How could a man like Prince Alessandro, the heartthrob of women around the world, sponsor a ball and not dance? It didn’t make sense.
He started to reach for her hand. “Come. We must hurry.”
She backed away. She was afraid to let him touch her again, afraid of his strange power over her bod
y. She gulped. “Why me?”
“Why not you?”
Setting her jaw, she folded her arms. “You’re famous for many things, Prince Alessandro, but taking file clerks on charity dates isn’t one of them.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Turning, he went to the large modernist painting above his desk and swung it open to reveal a safe. Turning the combination to open the door, he pulled out two platinum and diamond cufflinks, then faced her with new intrigue. “You interest me, Lilley Smith. Not one woman in a thousand would have asked me why before saying yes.”
“I guess I’m weird that way.” She watched him put on his expensive cufflinks one at a time, saw the strength of his wrists and the sensual movement of his hands. He paused.
“My date for the ball fell through ten minutes ago.”
“Miss Bianchi?”
“Yes.”
She’d seen pictures of the Milanese heiress, who was blond, thin and beautiful—everything Lilley was not. She looked down. “I’m nothing like her.”
“That makes you perfect,” he said harshly. “Olivia will learn how I respond to ultimatums. I need a date, and I found you in my office. It is fate.”
“Fate,” she whispered. He came back around his desk, his body a dark, powerful shadow. His eyes locked with hers.
“I need a date. You need revenge. This Jeremy will be on his knees for you before the night is through.”
A low current went up her spine. No matter how much they’d hurt her, she knew revenge was wrong. And being close to Alessandro scared her. She wasn’t just afraid for her job. He made her feel so … so strange.
“Why do you hesitate?” he demanded. “Are you in love with him?”
She shook her head. “It’s just …”
“What?”
Swallowing, she turned away. “Nothing.”
“I’ve watched you for weeks, little mouse, trying to avoid me.”
Her lips parted in shock. “You saw me?”
He gave a single nod. “Scurrying the other way when you saw me in the halls. This type of behavior from a woman is very … singular. It puzzled me. But now I understand.”
“You do?” she croaked.
He touched her cheek, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Most women I’ve met would have deserted their lovers in an instant to be with me. Loyalty is a rare quality. This man who betrayed you, he is a fool.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She stared up at him, mesmerized.
He dropped his hand. “But you have nothing to fear,” he said simply. “Our romance will be only an illusion. I will not call you tomorrow. I will not call you ever. After tonight, you will again be just my employee, and I will be your boss, pretending not to notice as you avoid me in the shadows.”
Lilley swallowed, still feeling his touch on her cheek. “You mean if I go with you to the ball tonight,” she whispered, “you’ll ignore me tomorrow? You’ll ignore me forever?”
“Yes.”
Lilley exhaled. She had to make him forget her existence. It was the only way to guarantee he wouldn’t be curious enough to discover the omissions on her résumé. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that wasn’t the only reason.
You’re always running away, Lilley. Jeremy’s stinging indictment rang in her ears. You said you came to San Francisco to pursue your jewelry business and spend time with me. Instead you’ve avoided us both since the day you arrived here. Either you never really wanted me or the business, or you’re the worst coward I’ve ever known.
Lilley closed her eyes. That morning, she’d been too angry to listen to his words. Jeremy and Nadia had betrayed her, pure and simple. She’d done nothing wrong. Right?
Right?
But suddenly all she wanted to do was prove Jeremy wrong. To be one of the glamorous, carefree, fearless girls who wore sparkly clothes and danced, laughed and drank champagne. To be the girl courted by a knight in shining armor.
To be the girl who attended a ball with a prince.
She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t. She could be as brave and ruthless as anyone. She could watch Prince Alessandro and learn!
Lilley opened her eyes. “I accept.”
He looked down at her. “Do you understand, Lilley?” he said evenly. “It’s not a real date. There will be nothing between us tomorrow. Absolutely nothing.”
“Yeah, I get it,” she said. “Monday I’ll go back to the file room. You’ll go back to Rome and probably Miss Bianchi, when you’re done teaching her your little lesson. I’ll continue to work for you and you’ll never bother me again. Perfect.”
He stared at her, then snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “You continue to surprise me, Lilley,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around her waist. “Come. We haven’t much time.”
As he led her out of the office, she felt a rush of sensation from the heaviness of his arm around her. Trying to ignore the wobble of her knees, she glanced back at the file cart. “But I haven’t finished my work—”
“It will be arranged.”
“And I don’t have a dress!”
His lips curved. “You will.”
She looked up at him, annoyed. “Who am I, Cinderella? Are you supposed to be my fairy godmother? I’m not going to let you buy me a dress!”
In the hallway, he pushed the button to summon the elevator then took her hand in his own. “Of course you will.” He gently pushed some strands of brown hair out of her eyes. “You will let me do exactly as I please, and I will give you an evening of pleasure. A beautiful gown, the envy of your coworkers and revenge against the people who betrayed you. It will be … an interesting night.”
Lilley breathed in his scent of clean skin and sandalwood, of seduction and power. She felt his palm against her own, rough and hot, and her pulse quickened, sending shivers up and down her virgin body. “All right. Yes.”
His dark eyes gleamed in the shadows of the hallway. “Yes?”
“Yes to the dress. To your help.” She licked her lips and gave him a trembling smile. “Yes to everything, your highness.”
“Call me Alessandro.” He lifted her hand to his mouth. She felt the press of his smooth, sensual lips and the heat of his breath against her skin, and gasped as fire raced up her arm and down the length of her body, igniting her like a match thrown into gasoline. “And women always do,” he murmured.
She licked her lips, dazed. “What?”
He straightened. His dark eyes were hot as a smile curled his sensual lips.
“Say yes,” he whispered. “To everything.”
CHAPTER TWO
EVENING fog had rolled in, seeping beneath Alessandro’s tuxedo as he stepped out of the limo onto the red carpet outside the hundred-year-old mansion on Nob Hill. It was August, but the fog was clammy and damp against his skin, a cold wet slap across the face.
Alessandro was grateful. A cold slap was exactly what he needed at the moment.
Flashbulbs of the waiting paparazzi popped around him as he heard Lilley’s high heels clack against the concrete then step softly onto the red carpet behind him. Alessandro’s body tightened. Overwhelming desire crackled through his blood, a shocking need that had begun the moment he’d gotten his first real look at her face in his office.
And now it was a hundred times worse. Just the drive in the limo had been almost unbearable, as he sat beside her. He hadn’t known she was so beautiful.
He felt Lilley’s graceful arm wrap around his, felt the light, gentle pressure of her hand against his forearm, felt the warmth of her touch through his tuxedo jacket.
With a shiver of desire, he looked down at her.
He’d noticed the mousy file clerk weeks ago. Rosy-cheeked and brown-haired, always wearing shapeless, unattractive dresses, she’d looked barely more than twenty and fresh from the country. After watching her veer away from him in a panic with her cart whenever their paths crossed, he’d been curious enough to have Mrs. Rutherford pull a copy of the girl’s file. But he hadn’t discovered anything very
interesting there. She’d moved to San Francisco in June, and the file-room position was apparently her first job since working as a hotel housekeeper in Minneapolis a few years ago. Everything about her was forgettable, even her name.
Except that was no longer true.
Alessandro exhaled. He’d intended to teach Olivia she could be replaced with anyone, even an unfashionable, plump, plain file clerk, fresh from the farm. But the joke was on him, it seemed.
How come he’d never really seen Lilley Smith until today?
Unfashionable? A personal stylist at a luxury boutique had poured Lilley into a long, slinky red dress with spaghetti straps. Backless and daringly low-cut, the red knit gown seemed to cling to her breasts, teasing a man’s gaze, threatening at any moment to reveal too much.
Plump? The dress showed off the curves her baggy clothes had hidden. Her breasts and hips were generous and wide, her waist small. She had the shockingly feminine figure that used to drive men wild … and still did. The classic 1950s Marilyn Monroe curves that made any man break out in a sweat. A droplet formed on Alessandro’s forehead just looking at her.
And plain? That was the biggest laugh of all. Alessandro had seen the rare beauty of her naked face up close in his office—but now, after Sergio’s makeup and hair team had done their work, her loveliness was shocking. Kohl and mascara darkened her deep-brown eyes, and red lipstick highlighted the seductive curve of her full, generous mouth.
Lilley’s long, light-brown hair tumbled seductively down her bare shoulders and naked back.
Alessandro had watched her for weeks from a distance, but it was only today that he’d finally seen Lilley Smith for what she truly was.
A beauty.
A sex kitten.
A bombshell.
As they walked down the red carpet towards the sweeping steps of the hundred-year-old Harts Mansion, the paparazzi went crazy, shouting questions.
“Where’s Olivia? Did you two break up?”
“Who’s the new girl?”
“Yeah, who’s the sexy brunette?”
Alessandro gave them a half smile and a brusque wave. He was accustomed to being followed and photographed wherever he went, from his palace in Rome to his yacht in Sardinia to his North American headquarters in San Francisco. It was the price he paid for being successful and a bachelor. But as he led Lilley down the red carpet, her feet dragged behind him. He glanced down at her, and realized she was shaking.
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