“Lilley,” he mused aloud in the silent office. He tilted his head, and his eyes suddenly gleamed in the small circle of lamplight. “What is your last name?”
“Smith,” she said honestly, then hid a smile. No help for him there.
“And what are you doing in my office, Miss Smith?”
The scent of him, sandalwood and musk and soap and something more—something uniquely him—washed over her. She gave an involuntary shiver. “Returning, um, files.”
“You know my files go to Mrs. Rutherford.”
“Yes,” she admitted unhappily.
He moved closer. She could practically feel the warmth of his body through his crisp black tuxedo jacket. “Tell me why you’re really here.”
She swallowed, looking down at the expensive carpet beneath her old, scuffed jogging shoes. “I just wanted to work for a few hours in peace and quiet. Without anyone bothering me.”
“On a Saturday night?” he said coldly. “You were searching my office. Going through my files.”
She looked up. “No!”
Prince Alessandro folded his arms. His dark eyes were hard, his expression like chiseled stone.
“I was hiding,” she said in a voice almost too soft to hear.
“Hiding?” His voice was silky. “Hiding from what?”
Against her will, the truth was ripped out of her. “From you.”
His dark eyes sharpened. He leaned forward. “Tell me why.”
Lilley could barely even breathe, much less think, with Prince Alessandro Caetani so close to her.
The soft golden glow of the lamp, the darkening twilight outside the windows filled the enormous, high-ceilinged office with deepening shadows. “I was crying,” she whispered over the lump in her throat. “I couldn’t stay at home, I’m days behind on my work, and I didn’t want you to see me because I was crying!”
Struggling not to cry, Lilley looked away. If she wept in front of her powerful boss, her humiliation would be complete. He would fire her—whether for skulking in his office, for crying in such an unprofessional way, or for being so behind on her work, it hardly mattered. She would lose the last thing she valued. The perfect finale to the second-worst day of her life.
“Ah,” he said softly, looking down at her. “At last, I understand.”
Her shoulders sagged. He was going to tell her to gather her things and get out of his building.
The prince’s gaze was full of darkness, an ocean at midnight, deep enough to drown in. “You were in love with him?”
“What?” Lilley blinked. “Who?”
The corners of his sensual mouth curved upward. “The man.”
“What makes you think I was crying over a man?”
“Why else would a woman weep?”
She laughed, but the sound was almost like a sob. “Everything has gone wrong today. I thought I might be happier if I lost some weight. I tried to go for a jog. Big mistake.” She looked down at her old running shoes, at her baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants. “My roommate thought I’d left for work. When I came back to the apartment I found her with my boyfriend. In bed.”
Alessandro cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
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.”