A Night of Living Dangerously. Jennie Lucas

orchestra started a new song, and the notes of an exquisite classical waltz swirled around them like cherry blossoms tumbling from the sky. Lilley looked out at the crowded dance floor wistfully.

      She’d told him she wasn’t a good dancer, but he didn’t believe that for an instant. He’d seen the sensual way she moved. Even walking, her body swayed like sunset against ocean waves.

      But he couldn’t dance with her. His hands tightened at his sides. He was helpless to offer comfort.

      Unless he made love to her.

      What could it hurt? His lust argued against his brain.

      One night of pleasure. A few hours of comfort. One night wouldn’t risk making her fall in love with him. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin.

      Although she was shockingly close. Two boyfriends. He still couldn’t believe she’d only been with two men. She truly was innocent. And yet she’d seemed embarrassed of her number. He wondered what she would think if he told her how many women he’d slept with. Something he would never do, even if he knew the number.

      “I’m sorry I don’t dance,” he said slowly.

      She looked down. “It’s all right.”

      The scent of her hair was like wild roses. He moved closer, fascinated by the swoop of her neck, by the snub edge of her chin. Her cheeks blushed a soft pink against creamy skin as her dark eyelashes fluttered. He asked suddenly, “How old are you, Lilley?”

      “Twenty-three.” She furrowed her brow. “Why? How old are you?”

      “Ancient to you. Thirty-five.”

      “Thirty-five, and still not married?” She sounded as astonished as his shareholders. “Where I come from, most people are married by thirty.”

      “Advantageous for farm life, I assume.”

      Her brow furrowed. “I don’t exactly come from a—”

      “In my world,” he interrupted, “a man marries to ensure his line, to make sure he has a son to inherit his title and estate when he’s dead.”

      She flashed him a grin. “Gee, you make it all sound so romantic.”

      “It’s not about romance, Lilley,” he said sharply. “Marriage is an alliance. My wife will be a leader in society. An heiress with proper lineage, the future mother to my heir.”

      Her grin faded. “Like Olivia Bianchi.”

      Even hearing her name irritated him. “Yes.”

      Lilley’s eyes were huge beneath the glittering light of the chandeliers. “So if she’s the perfect bride for you, why am I here?”

      “She threatened to leave if I didn’t propose, so I told her to go.”

      Lilley blinked. “I feel sorry for her.”

      He barked a laugh. “Do not waste your sympathy on Olivia. She can take care of herself.”

      “She’s in love with you!” She swallowed. “It was wrong of me to agree to this—this charade. When you’re just trying to control her.”

      “I have no desire ever to see Olivia again,” he bit out.

      She frowned, clearly unconvinced. “When did you decide that?”

      His eyes met hers. “I knew it from the moment I saw you in that dress.”

      Her lips parted in shock. It took her several moments to speak. “Um. Would you get me a drink?” she croaked. “And maybe some food? I haven’t eaten all day.”

      “Certamente,” he murmured. “What would you like? A martini? A merlot?”

      “You choose.”

      “We’ll start with champagne.” Reaching out a hand, he cupped her cheek. “Wait here, if you please, cara.”

      He felt her shiver beneath his touch, saw her lick her lips as she said with a trembling voice, “I’ll wait.”

      He turned away, but after a few steps could not resist looking back at her. Lilley stood frozen on the edge of the dance floor, gloriously alluring in her red dress, watching him. She was surrounded by men who were already darting her greedy sideways glances.

      Damned vultures. Alessandro scowled. He would hurry.

      As he strode across the ballroom, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such need to possess any woman.

      And he could have her. She was free and ripe for the taking. Yes, she was his employee, but he was the one who’d made that rule. He was the boss. He could break his own rules at will.

      Alessandro thought again of the ten bedrooms at his villa. An image floated through his mind of Lilley spread naked on his bed, her full, generous mouth curved into a sensual smile, her deep-brown eyes looking up at him with a haze of longing and need. He nearly stumbled over his own feet.

      And just like that, his decision was made. His body tightened as exhilaration raced through him. Employee or not, Lilley would be his.

      Tonight. He would have her in his bed tonight.