A Night of Living Dangerously (9 page)

She put her hand on his rough, unshaven cheek. “Then give me a kiss I’ll never forget.”

He looked at her full, rosy lips, and his whole body shuddered with need.

One last time,
he told his conscience savagely. He would give her up at dawn. Set her free before he did any further damage to her soul.

Cupping her face, Alessandro kissed her, as if trying to burn the memory of her lips against his for all time. Tasting the sweetness of her mouth, he spread her lips wide, plundering her with his tongue. Pulling the pillow away from her body, he rolled her beneath him on the bed, covering her naked body with his own.

Alessandro looked down at Lilley’s beautiful face. He knew the bitter memory of the joy shining now in her sweet, joyful eyes, her strange trust and belief in his goodness would haunt him for all time. An ache like regret pierced his soul.

Then, closing his eyes, he pushed himself inside her.

CHAPTER FIVE

A
MONTH
later, Lilley felt sick as she sat in a hard office chair in the basement office of the human resources department. The fluorescent lights above the desk flickered and hummed as Lilley licked her dry lips, praying she’d heard wrong.

“What?” she croaked.

“I’m sorry, Miss Smith, but we must let you go.” The kindly older man on the other side of the desk shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m afraid Caetani Worldwide isn’t the right place for your skills.”

Fighting nausea, Lilley took a deep breath as grief and pain washed over her. She’d known this would happen, known she’d lose her job no matter how hard she tried. Effort couldn’t compensate for her slowness in filing numbers and letters that danced in front of her eyes.

Maybe she really was incapable of taking care of herself, just as her father said. Case in point: she’d slept with her boss, and then was surprised when Alessandro disappeared before she woke up on Monday morning and never bothered to contact her again. Exactly as he’d told her he’d do. Her throat suddenly hurt. She really wasn’t smart.

“I can assure you,” the HR director continued, “there’s a very generous compensation package.”

“I was too slow, right?” she whispered, blinking back tears. “I took too long to finish my work.”

The man shook his head, his ponderous jowls wobbling. He didn’t look as if he wanted to fire her. He looked as if he wished the earth would swallow him up beneath his desk. “You did a good job, Miss Smith. You were popular with the rest of the staff. Yes, you took longer than the other file clerk, but your work ethic—” He took a deep breath, tapping a file on his desk. “That’s neither here nor there.” His voice was clipped. “We will give you an excellent recommendation and I can assure you that you’ll find a job soon. Very,
very
soon.”

He started to explain the details of her severance package, but Lilley barely listened. The sick feeling was starting to win, so she focused on her breathing, staring hard at the little gray trash can on the floor by his desk. Fighting the desire to throw up into it.

“I’m sorry it turned out this way,” he said finally. “But someday you’ll be glad that …” He saw that she wasn’t listening and was clutching her stomach with one hand while covering her mouth with her other. He sighed. “Please sign this.” He pushed a paper towards her on the desk. Grabbing the pen he offered, Lilley skimmed the document—her father had drummed that much into her, at any rate—and saw she was basically promising not to sue the company for sexual harassment. Harassment?

She sucked in her breath. That meant it wasn’t her work that was at fault, but she was being fired by—

She cut off the thought, unable to bear his name. Scribbling her signature, she rose to her feet. The HR director shook her hand.

“Best of luck, Miss Smith.”

“Thanks,” she choked out. Grabbing the file he held out, she fled to the women’s bathroom, where she could be sick in privacy.

Afterward, Lilley splashed cold water on her face. She looked at her wan, green expression in the mirror. She tried to force a grin, to put the cheerful mask back in place that she’d worn for the last month while enduring teasing and innuendo about Prince Alessandro. But today, she couldn’t even smile.

Fired.
She was fired.

Numbly, she walked to the elevator. She exited on the third floor and went to her desk in the corner of the windowless file room. Other employees had pictures of family or friends or pets hanging at their desks. Lilley had a lonely pink geranium and a postcard that her cousin’s wife, Carrie, had sent from Provence a few weeks ago. On the tidy surface of her desk, she saw someone had left a gossip magazine for her to find. Again.

Her body felt cold as she looked down at the latest issue of
Celebrity Weekly
. The cover had a picture of Alessandro in Mexico City, where he’d been living for the last month in his attempt to keep the Joyería deal from falling apart. But last week, Lilley’s cousin Théo had made a successful counterbid. It should have made her feel glad, but it didn’t. Her heart ached to think of how Alessandro would feel after failing—at anything.

At least she was used to it.

Her eyes moved to a smaller picture at the bottom of the magazine’s cover that had been taken at the Cannes film festival months before. Alessandro wore a tuxedo, looking darkly handsome, holding the hand of a beautiful blonde dressed in black. Olivia Bianchi.

Playboy Prince to Wed at Last, the cover blared. Someone had underlined the words with a thick black pen.

Ever since she’d been Alessandro’s date at the ball, she’d been paying for it. Some of her coworkers had worried Lilley might think too well of herself for briefly being their boss’s mistress. Well, she thought bitterly, no chance of that.

Lilley jumped as she heard a man clear his throat behind her. Turning, she saw Larry, a security guard she knew. Just yesterday, Lilley had given him advice about how to get ink stains out of fabric, something she’d dealt with fairly often as her cousin’s housekeeper. But today, his face was regretful and resigned.

“Sorry, Lilley. I’m supposed to escort you out.”

She nodded over the lump in her throat. She gathered up her geranium, the magazine, the postcard from Provence, her nubby old cardigan and the large bag of toffees she kept at the bottom of her desk for emergencies. She packed up her life in a cardboard box and followed the security guard from the file room, trying to ignore all the employees staring at her as she was escorted from the building in a walk of shame.

In the lobby, Larry checked her cardboard box for contraband—what did he think she might take? Pens? Copy paper?—and then took her employee pass card. “Sorry,” he mumbled again.

“I’ll be fine,” she whispered, and was proud she managed to leave the building without either crying or throwing up.

Numbly, Lilley took the bus home. As she reached her apartment, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number. Nadia had missed all the action, so Jeremy must have told her the news. But Lilley couldn’t face her roommate’s sympathy right now. Or the suspicions Nadia had voiced lately, which Lilley was desperately trying not to think about: the reason for her frequent nausea over the last week.

Turning her phone to Mute, she threw it on the counter. She gulped down some dry crackers and water to help her stomach calm down, then changed into flannel pajamas and a pink fleece robe. Wrapping herself in her mother’s quilt, she lay down on the couch and closed her eyes, even though she knew she was far too upset to sleep.

She was woken by the rattle of her cell phone on the kitchen counter. Sitting up, she saw the deepening shadows and realized she’d slept for hours. Pulling a pillow over her head, she tried to ignore the rattle. The phone finally stopped buzzing, then after a brief pause, it rudely started again. Muttering to herself, Lilley got up and grabbed it. She blinked when she saw the out-of-state number.
Alessandro,
she thought, still half confused by her dream, the dream she’d had over and over all month. She could still feel the heat of his lips against her skin. She swallowed.

“Hello?” she said almost timidly.

“Lilley Smith?” a jovial voice boomed at the other end. “You don’t know me, but your résumé has come to our attention, and we’d like to offer you a paid internship with our company in New York.”

By the time Lilley hung up the phone, her dreams about Alessandro were gone. She finally understood. He wasn’t just ridding her from his company. He was completely erasing her from his life.

Her eyes fell on the magazine, visible from the cardboard box on the kitchen counter. Snatching it up, she stared with narrowed eyes at the picture of Alessandro with Olivia Bianchi. The blond Italian socialite looked like a smug, satisfied Persian cat who’d just licked up a whole bowl of cream.

Another huge wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Tossing the magazine to the floor, she covered her mouth and ran down the hall. Afterward, her eyes fell on the brown paper bag that sat ominously on the sink, like a loaded gun. Nadia had bought it for her days ago at the drugstore, and Lilley had scrupulously ignored it.

She couldn’t possibly be pregnant. They’d gone through boxes of condoms! They’d used protection
every single time,
all weekend long.

Except …

She froze. Except that one time. In the shower.

Wide-eyed, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

She exhaled. How could their affair have ended so badly? She’d fallen asleep so happily in Alessandro’s arms, foolishly believing they might have a future. Then she’d woken up alone. Wrapping herself in a bedsheet, she’d called his name teasingly as she went downstairs. Instead, she’d discovered only his housekeeper. “The prince has been called away,” the woman said stiffly. “Abbott will drive you back to the city.” She’d handed Lilley the red gown, mended and pressed, and served her eggs, coffee and toast at the same table where Lilley had enjoyed that joyful, sensual breakfast with Alessandro just the day before. The chauffeur had driven her back home without a word. Lilley’s cheeks still burned to remember.

But in spite of everything, she couldn’t regret their time together. How could she, when she’d finally discovered what it felt like to take risks? To be truly alive? She’d discovered passion that had been like a fire consuming her body, making her soul blaze like a beacon in the night.

All right, so she’d never see him again. She could accept that, since she had no choice. She could even be grateful for the experience. For the memory.

But what if she was pregnant?

Lilley squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding. She would take the test and find out for sure. It would prove once and for all that she’d just eaten some bad Chinese takeout or something.

Her hands shook as she took the test, then waited. She told herself she wasn’t worried. Hummed a cheerful little lullaby she’d sung to her cousin’s baby in France. Looked at her watch. Two minutes. It was probably too soon to check, but it wouldn’t hurt just to—

Pregnant.

Pregnantpregnantpregnant.

Her shaking hands dropped the stick in the trash as she staggered down the hall and into the kitchen. She found herself with a kettle in her hand and realized she was making tea, just as her mother had always done in times of crisis.

“Sweetheart, there are very few problems in the world that can’t be made better by a hug, a plate of cookies and a cup of tea,”
her mother had said, smiling. It had worked like a charm when Lilley was nine and had failed a spelling test, and when she was a teenager and the other kids mocked, “Guess your father can’t buy you a new brain.” It had even worked when her father had asked her sick mother for a divorce, abandoning their family home in Minneapolis to build a huge mansion for his mistress on the shores of Lake Minnetonka.

She swallowed, trembling as tears filled her eyes. The difference was that her mother had been there. Lilley missed her so much. Paula Smith would have hugged her daughter, told her everything was going to be all right. And Lilley would have believed her.

The kettle screamed. Numbly, Lilley poured boiling water over the fragrant peppermint tea. Holding her steaming, oversized mug in her shaking hands, Lilley went to the couch.

A baby.

She was going to have Alessandro’s baby.

Raw, jagged emotion washed over her. He’d arranged for her to be fired and had offered a job that was three thousand miles away. There was no other explanation for her to be spontaneously head-hunted for a fantastic internship with a New York jewelry company at double her current salary. He wanted Lilley out of San Francisco, so he wouldn’t have to see her
scurrying in the halls
and could settle down, mouse-free, with his beautiful, sleek bride.

Setting her mug on the end table, she picked up the magazine from the floor. Opening it, she skimmed through the article. Alessandro was holding his annual wine-harvest celebration at his villa in Sonoma. Rumor was that it was going to be an engagement party.

Friday. That was tonight.

Lilley’s fingertips stroked the image of Alessandro’s handsome, cold face. She’d been so sure he would want to see her again. For the last month, she’d jumped every time her cell phone rang. She’d had such naive faith. She’d expected him to call, send flowers, a card,
something.
He hadn’t.

But it turned out he had given her something, the greatest gift any woman could receive. A baby. She placed her hand on her soft belly. She’d always disliked her plump figure, wishing she could be thin and athletic. But now she realized her extra pounds didn’t matter. Her amazing body was creating a baby. How could she be anything but grateful to it?

How would Alessandro react when she told him?

The memory of his harsh voice came floating back to her.
I will not marry you. I will not love you.

She’d known from the beginning that Alessandro only considered her a fling. He’d been honest from the start. If Lilley had a broken heart, she was the only one to blame, because she’d allowed herself to hope for more.