A Night of Living Dangerously (12 page)

“I’m sorry, Lilley,” he said quietly. “I do know you. And you wouldn’t lie.”

Their eyes locked. She exhaled as the knots in her shoulders loosened. Then he spoke.

“Marry me.”

She heard the roar of her own heartbeat above the splatter of rain. “Is that a joke?”

His sensual lips curved upward. “I never joke, remember?”

Her head was spinning. She’d never expected him to propose, not in a million years, not in her most delusional dreams. “You … want to marry me?”

“Is that so surprising? What did you expect—that I’d kick you and our unborn child to the curb and merrily go and propose to another woman?”

Biting her lip, she looked up at the ruthless lines of his face. “Well … yes.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.”

“No,” she whispered. “I guess I don’t.” She felt dizzy and still a bit sick. She’d barely made it to Sonoma in Nadia’s old car without being sick, she’d been so nervous. And now he wanted to marry her? She licked her lips, feeling as though she might cry. “You want to help raise our baby?”

Alessandro’s jaw was tight. “I will protect you both. I will give the baby my name. It is my duty.”

Her heart, which had been soaring in blind hope, crashed to the ground. His
duty?
She exhaled. “You don’t need to marry me to be involved in our baby’s life.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it is necessary.”

“You’re old-fashioned.”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t love me!”

He folded his arms. “Irrelevant.”

“Not to me, it isn’t!” She exhaled, clenching her hands. “Listen, Alessandro, I’ll never try to keep you from seeing your child—”

“I know that you will not, once we are wed.”

“I’m not going to marry you!”

“Of course you will,” he said coldly.

She shook her head, causing wet tendrils to slap against her cheeks. “Be in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life? No thanks!”

“I understand. You still want your knight in shining armor.” He set his jaw. “But whatever either of us might have once planned for our lives is over. We are expecting a child. We will wed.”

“No—we would be miserable!”

“Miserable?”
he said incredulously. “Don’t you understand? You will be my bride. A princess. Rich beyond your wildest dreams!”

“I don’t care—I don’t want it! Not when I know you don’t love me and never will!”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands sliding against her wet skin. “You would deny our child a name out of some childish yearning for fairytale dreams?”

“It’s not childish.” She closed her eyes, which suddenly burned with tears that he’d used his knowledge of her heart against her. “You are cruel.”

“I am
right,
” he said grimly. “You have no reason to refuse me.” He paused. “I will even be faithful to you, Lilley.”

He spoke the words as if being faithful to her would require a huge sacrifice, practically more than any billionaire prince could bear. And it was probably true. “Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically, glaring at him. “But I have no interest in being your duty bride.”

“Your objection is to the word
duty?
” He narrowed his eyes. “What do you think marriage is?”

“Love. Friendship. Having each other’s backs. A poetic union of souls—”

His grip on her tightened. “And passion?” His voice became husky beneath the rain. “What of passion?”

Her heart fell to her sandals and back again. She felt his strength, his warmth, the irresistible pull of his power. Against her will, she craved him.

“It was good between us.” He ran his fingers lightly along her jawline, his thumb along her sensitive lower lip. His soft stroke caused a spark down her body that made her suck in her breath. “You know how it was.”

Memories shuddered through her of how it had felt when he’d made love to her. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples aching and tight. She swallowed. “It was a fling,” she breathed. “You said so yourself. I’m not the right woman to be your bride.”

“My assessment has changed.” He cupped her face. His eyes were dark with heat. “For the last month,” he whispered, “I’ve thought of nothing but having you in my bed.”

She licked her lips. “You—you have?”

“I told myself you deserved a man who could love you. But everything has changed. Only our child matters now.” His gaze fell to her lips. “But that’s a lie,” he said in a low voice. “That’s not the only reason I want you as my bride. I want you to be mine. I want to possess you completely. Every night. For the rest of our lives.”

Lilley could barely breathe. “But Olivia—”

“I would have married her out of duty. Not desire.” He looked into her eyes. “You are the one I want, Lilley.” His mouth lowered to hers with agonizing slowness as he whispered, “Don’t you know that by now? I want you. And now I will have you—forever.”

As he kissed her, she closed her eyes, her body shaking as his lips took ruthless possession of her own. His lips were hard and hungry as the rain poured over their skin and thunder pounded across the lowering black sky.

She heard his low growl as in a sudden movement he pushed her back against the hedge. She felt the rough, wet branches of the shrubbery against her back as he held her tight against his wet, muscled body. He moved his hands through her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. In the force of their embrace, their wet clothes slid and clung to their skin. His hands roamed everywhere, over her cotton tank top, over her hips. She felt his hand reach beneath the hemline of her skirt, dragging it slowly up her thighs. His hand slid upwards, and she gasped, placing her hand over his. “No.”

“Don’t refuse me,” he said in a low voice. “It’s what we both want.”

“I do want you,” she panted, then choked out a sob. “But I can’t marry you. I’d have to give up everything I believe in. I’m afraid it would destroy me to love you.”

“So don’t love me.” He caressed her hair, looking down at her with serious dark eyes. “It’s too late for our own dreams, Lilley,” he said quietly. “All that matters now are our baby’s.”

She sucked in her breath. He was right, she realized. All that mattered now was their child. She closed her eyes. “Will you love our baby? Will you be a good father?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

Her heart twisted as she took a deep breath, then another. For an instant, she held her breath. Then she let her dreams for love go.

She opened her eyes.

“I can accept … a marriage without love,” she whispered, then shook her head. “But not without trust. Not without respect. I won’t be humiliated by a paternity test. Either believe that the baby is yours … or let us go.”

Staring at her, Alessandro slowly nodded. “All right,
cara,
” he said in a low voice. “All right.”

Swallowing back the ache in her throat, she whispered, “Then I’ll marry you.”

Alessandro drew back. “You will?” The rain had lifted, and a beam of twilight sun burst from behind the clouds, illuminating his hard features with gold. “You’ll be my wife?”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

His eyes lit up, and the edges of his lips curved up into a bright smile that made him look younger, almost boyish. She’d never seen him look that way before. As Lilley stared up at him, the noise of the storm faded, and thunder became a distant memory.

Maybe it would be all right, she thought, dazed. Maybe passion and a baby would be enough to start a marriage.

She prayed it would be. Because that was all they had.

CHAPTER SEVEN

L
ILLEY
’s hair flew around her, tangling in the cold night wind as Alessandro drove his yellow Ferrari convertible across the vast, lonely Nevada desert. She couldn’t stop looking over at him at the wheel. Moonlight frosted his dark hair with silver.

The party had ended in scandal, when Alessandro had privately informed Olivia that she’d been misled by the gossip columns and he intended to take Lilley as his bride. Olivia had stomped out of the villa, but not before she’d grabbed Lilley’s arm in the foyer.

“You’ll regret this,” the beautiful Milanese heiress had hissed, pressing her fingernails into Lilley’s flesh. “You might be pregnant with his child, you piece of trash, but you’re not worthy to be his wife. You think you’ve beaten me. But I will find a way to destroy you.”

Turning, the gorgeous blonde had departed, her skinny shoulders straight as she’d stormed out of the villa. In the next room Alessandro was already announcing their engagement to all of his friends, introducing them to Lilley at his side. They’d applauded and murmured congratulations, but she’d felt their bewildered eyes on her, as if they were wondering why on earth someone like Alessandro would choose her for his bride. Something she kept wondering herself. Then he’d announced with a wicked smile, “We’re eloping to Las Vegas. Tonight.”

Lilley had gasped along with everyone else. They would drive to Las Vegas, he insisted, as his private jet was en route to San Francisco after delivering supplies to a desperate community decimated by a hurricane. “We’ll be married by morning,” Alessandro had told her after he’d gotten rid of the guests. He paused. “Unless you wish to wait until your father can attend the ceremony …”

She’d felt a prickle at the back of her neck, knowing she had to tell Alessandro the truth about her family before they could possibly marry. She shook her head. “No. I don’t want my father at the ceremony, and you wouldn’t either. We’re not exactly friends. I’m not even sure he loves me.” She took a deep breath. “Speaking of which,” she said in a small voice, “there’s something I need to tell you. Before I can marry you.”

“No need.” His expression had suddenly become cold, closed off. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

Alessandro knew about her family? Her jaw dropped. “You—you do?”

He nodded, his eyes hard. “There’s no point in talking about it, because there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

She bit her lip. “So you—you forgive me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he said grimly, then shook his head. “But I will never be able to love you.”

Lilley wasn’t worried about him loving her at that moment. She’d just been praying he wouldn’t utterly despise her. Relief washed through her. He knew her secret. Of course he did, she thought, suddenly so giddy she was almost light-headed. He’d probably known it all along! Alessandro Caetani was a brilliant competitor, which is why her cousin found him to be such an infuriating foe. He knew stuff. With a tearful, joyful sob, she threw her arms around him.

Surprised, he’d put his arms around her. “I’ll have my people pack up your things and meet us in Las Vegas. No need to pack clothes,” he’d said gruffly. “I’ll provide you with those.”

“I need my jewelry materials and tools, and the quilt my mother made me.”

“You have a passport, yes?”

“Yes.” With a whole bunch of stamps in and out of French airports she wouldn’t have to hide. “Why a passport?”

“I have a little place in Sardinia.” He’d smiled, his eyes hot. “A honeymoon cottage.”

They drove all night in his convertible, across the dark, vast Nevada desert. Sometime during the night, she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder. When they arrived in Las Vegas, Alessandro woke her with a kiss to her forehead.

“Welcome to your wedding day,
cara,
” he whispered, and she opened her eyes blearily to see the white light of dawn breaking over the distant craggy mountains.

Alessandro took her to the luxury Hermitage Hotel and Resort, where he ordered a lavish private buffet for two brought up to their penthouse suite. Five waiters with overflowing carts brought up fifty different items for Lilley to sample—waffles, omelets, pecan-stuffed French toast, slabs of bacon, watermelon, fruit salad and chicken-fried steak. Afterward, Alessandro escorted her to an overpriced bridal boutique downstairs in the hotel. Selecting a tuxedo for himself, he casually bought the first wedding dress she admired.

“You can’t!” Lilley cried when she saw the twenty-thousand-dollar price tag, even as her eyes traced the beaded white fabric longingly.

Lifting his eyebrow, he gave her a grin. “I can.”

They collected their marriage license downtown, then returned to their suite at the Hermitage where a bridal bouquet and boutonniere waited for them beside the grand piano. It was intoxicating. Dreamy. They made love on the huge bed overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, then made love again in the shower before changing their clothes. Then, when Alessandro first saw Lilley in her wedding dress, he pulled her straight back into bed.

Lilley sat astride his lap, riding him as he leaned against the headboard, her necklace bouncing softly against her swollen breasts with every thrust. After their third lust-fueled explosion of the afternoon, he kissed the necklace’s pink-heart crystal and brass chain. “Any man on earth would pay a fortune to have such a necklace for his wife.” His expression changed. “It’s just too bad that …”

“What?”

He exhaled. “Nothing.” Taking her hand, he pulled her from the bed. “Let’s get to the ceremony before we get distracted.”

Two hours after their appointed time, they finally married, surrounded by white candles at the hotel’s private wedding chapel. An acquaintance of Alessandro’s who owned the hotel, Nikos Stavrakis, was the only witness as they breathlessly spoke their vows.

And just like that, Lilley was a princess. Wearing a white suit he’d purchased for her, she boarded her husband’s waiting jet, bound for the Mediterranean.

On board, Lilley found the possessions his staff had packed for her. The box of her life was small indeed—just her mother’s homemade quilt, her jewelry tools and an excited, gushing note from Nadia wishing her luck and all the joy in the world. “Jeremy will be moving in with me now—I know you won’t mind because you’re a happily married princess! I can’t believe you
married
Prince Alessandro! You’ll be famous now!”

As the jet flew the long miles east across the country and towards the Atlantic, Lilley fell asleep on a couch, holding her mother’s quilt to her chest. When she woke up, Alessandro was watching her from a nearby white leather chair.