“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?”