a ridiculous idea. Funny the tricks lust could play on a man’s mind.
And he wanted her. Oh yes.
But he wouldn’t let himself act on it. He was not a slave to lust. He was a grown man, the head of a worldwide company, and it was past time that he stopped chasing one-night stands and settled down. Olivia Bianchi would make a perfect princess, and when she inherited her father’s designer-clothing business, Caetani Worldwide’s reach would double in Europe. He did not love her, any more than Olivia loved him, but their union made sense. He’d nearly talked himself into proposing until she’d pulled that little stunt.
He should have expected Olivia’s ultimatum. He’d been on the phone in his limo, en route to the office for his forgotten cufflinks, and he’d felt her simmering beside him in her black fur coat. The instant he’d ended the business call, Olivia had turned on him in angry, rapid-fire Italian.
“When are you going to propose, Alessandro? When?
I’m sick of waiting for you to decide. Make our engagement official, or find someone else to be your hostess at the charity ball!”
Five minutes later, he’d dropped Olivia off at her ritzy hotel. No woman, not even one as powerful and perfect as Olivia, would ever give him an ultimatum.
Now, as Alessandro led Lilley towards the ballroom of the Harts Mansion, he felt a rush of relief that he was still a free man. This was already proving to be the most enjoyable, surprising night he’d had in a long time.
Keeping Lilley close beside him, he paused at the landing on the top of the stairs, looking down into the ballroom. A hush fell beneath the soaring painted ceilings and enormous crystal chandeliers as hundreds of guests turned to stare up at them. Alessandro felt Lilley stiffen. She wasn’t accustomed to being the center of attention, that was certain. She seemed to expect criticism, which he could not remotely understand.
“I can’t tell you you’re beautiful, because you’ll hit me,” he murmured. “But I know every man would kill to be in my place.”
Her eyes flashed up at him, and he saw her lips quirk into a nervous smile. “Okay,” she said in a low voice, bracing herself. “Let’s go.”
Alessandro led her down the stairs, where his board members, stockholders and friends waited. He spoke to each of them in turn, then moved across the ballroom, greeting the mayor, the governor, movie stars and visiting royalty by name. The men grinned and asked him for stock tips. The women flirted with him and tossed their hair. And they all gaped at Lilley beside him. None of the upper-level directors of Caetani Worldwide recognized her, he was positive, though they’d likely passed her many times in the hallways.
Insane to think he’d once been just as blind.
Speaking with each of his guests in turn, Alessandro thanked them for their donation to his favorite children’s charity. He felt Lilley trembling beside him as if she wanted to take flight, and took her hand firmly in his own, pressing her forward with a gentle push against the naked skin of her lower back. Even that innocent, courteous touch was incredibly erotic. All he wanted to do was leave the gala ball and drag Lilley away to some quiet place. Perhaps his villa in Sonoma, which conveniently had ten bedrooms.
“Your highness,” the head of the children’s charity said breathlessly, looking up at him through her glasses with dazzled eyes, “won’t you say a few words to start the bidding for the auction tonight?”
“Certainly,” Alessandro said with a practiced smile. “I’ll do it at once.”
Gripping Lilley’s hand, he crossed the ballroom towards the stage, and the crowds parted for them like magic. He felt her panic as he led her up the stairs, felt her small hand pulling desperately to be freed. It was only once they were behind the wings of the stage that he released her hand, looking down at her.
“Thanks for being my date tonight,” he said huskily, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. It was just an innocent, friendly kiss. Practically nothing. But when he pulled away, her eyes were huge.
His own lips burned where they’d touched her skin. For an instant, they just stared at each other. His blood roared in his ears, his heart pounding with the need to pull her into his arms and kiss her, really kiss her. He had to force himself to step back.
“Excuse me.” Years of not showing feelings stood him in good stead. His voice was calm and even, betraying nothing of his tumult within. “This will take just a moment.”
“Sure,” she said faintly.
Leaving her in the wings, he walked to the microphone at the center of the stage. A hush fell across the ballroom, and Alessandro waited for the hearty cheer of the crowd which quickly followed. He was accustomed to being the center of attention, and far from being nervous, he was bored by it—all of it. There was only one thing that did not bore him right now, one thing that made his blood hum and his body come alive. One thing he wanted.
And he could not let himself have her.
Gripping the podium with his hands, he gave a speech, hardly knowing what he was saying. He could feel Lilley watching from the wings. His heartbeat was quick, his body hot with repressed desire.
“… and so I thank you, my friends,” he finished. “Drink champagne, dance and bid high. Remember every penny raised tonight goes to help children in need!”
The cheer across the ballroom was even louder. With an absentminded wave, he left the podium and went straight back to Lilley, who looked as if she’d recovered her senses and was now staring at her watch, keeping time.
“Six minutes.” She looked up at him with quirked lips. “I’m impressed. Usually speeches given by important men last for at least an hour. You’re fast.”
He gave her a lazy smile, then leaned forward to whisper, “I’m slow where it counts.”
Alessandro had the satisfaction of seeing her shiver. That was some solace, at least—knowing she was as aware of him as he was of her. It amazed him, how Lilley hid nothing of her feelings. So young, he thought in wonder, so reckless and unrestrained. It reminded him of what he’d once been like himself, before he’d been betrayed. Like her, he’d once been young and hopeful, poor and driven to succeed …
Poor? The sparkle of Lilley’s watch caught his eye, and he grabbed her wrist. “What’s this?”
She tried to pull her wrist from his grasp. “Nothing.”
In the background, he could hear the orchestra start a waltz. He was dimly aware of guests going out to the dance floor. “It’s platinum. Diamonds. I don’t recognize the brand.”
“Hainsbury,” she said in a small voice.
Hainsbury’s. The damned discount jewelry chain that had recently tried—and failed—to execute a hostile takeover of Caetani Worldwide, solely in order to acquire the cachet of his luxury jewelry brand, Preziosi di Caetani. His eyes narrowed. “Who gave it to you?”
She swallowed. “My mother.”
He told himself it was entirely reasonable that someone from the Midwest might own a Hainsbury watch. It was a coincidence, nothing more. His endless battles with the Count of Castelnau, his crafty, vicious French rival, were making him paranoid. He looked at Lilley’s face. Clearly he was losing his mind to be suspicious of a girl like this.
“Nice,” he said casually, dropping her wrist. “I wouldn’t have recognized it. It looks nothing like their usual factory-made junk.”
Looking away, she wrapped her hand around her wrist. Her voice was awkward. “My mother had it specially made.”
He’d embarrassed her, Alessandro thought. Drawing attention to her Hainsbury-brand watch at a ball sponsored by the far more prestigious Preziosi di Caetani. “Whoever made it, your watch is truly exquisite.” He smiled down at her and changed the subject. “Had enough of the ball? Ready to leave?”
“Leave?” Her