Maisey Yates - Rising Stars

Kiss her? He wasn’t even going to look at her. Her night of magic, her time of feeling reckless and beautiful, was definitely over. But she couldn’t accept it. After the brief, explosive joy she’d experienced so briefly in his arms, she couldn’t just shrug off her loss and go quietly back to her empty apartment!

Her heart hammered in her throat. “You’re making a fuss over nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

Alessandro looked at her. The lights and shadows of the city swept over the hard, angular lines of his cheekbones and jaw. “It is to me.”

Glancing uneasily at the driver, she leaned towards Alessandro. “Just because I am slightly less experienced than your other lovers—”

“Do you not understand what I was offering?” he bit out. “A night. Perhaps two. Nothing more!”

“I wasn’t asking for more!” she said, affronted.

“I will never go home to meet your parents, Lilley. I will not marry you.” His dark eyes were furious. “I will not love you.”

A pang went through her at his cold words, but she lifted her chin in defiance. “Who said I wanted love?”

“Virgins always do.” He looked her up and down. “Do not be stupid, Lilley.”

Stupid. Her cheeks felt suddenly cold as echoes of childhood taunts from school went through her. Fri-lly, Li-lley, stupid and si-lly!

Alessandro stared out the window, his jaw like stone. His body language informed her that he was done talking, his decision made.

The limo pulled to a stop at her building. The driver got out and opened her door. The night air rushed in, cool and clammy against her burning skin.

“Good night,” Alessandro said coldly, not turning his head.

“This is really how you’re going to end our date?” she whispered. “Kissing me—then kicking me to the curb?”

He turned, and his black eyes glowed like dying embers as a hard smile lifted his lips. “Now, cara, at last you understand what it means to be my lover.”

Lilley stared at him. “I understand, all right,” she choked out. Tears filled her eyes as she turned away. “You don’t want me.”

“Not want you?” he demanded.

She looked back, miserable and bewildered. “Yes, you just said—”

“I am saving you from a mistake,” he said harshly. “Be grateful.”

She swallowed. “Okay,” she said. “Good-bye.”

She stepped out onto the curb in front of her 1960s-era apartment building. She took a deep breath of the cool night air and looked down her dark, empty street, littered with parked cars. An old newspaper blew down the black asphalt like a tumbleweed. She’d only lived here two months, but she’d been in this same place for far too long. In France. In Minnesota.

Her apartment building towered over her, seeming almost malevolent in the darkness. She knew what waited for her there, too. Nadia would be out dancing with Jeremy all night, and Lilley would be alone. She’d curl up on the couch beneath her mother’s old handmade quilt and watch television shows about other people’s lives. Maybe she’d take a long bath, then lights out.

Was that doomed to be her whole life’s fate?

She would never have left her cushy job as a housekeeper in France if her cousin hadn’t been mean to the mother of his child, causing Lilley to quit her job in solidarity in an instinctive, emotional reaction that would have made her mother proud. But that had been the end of Lilley’s courage. From the instant she’d set foot in San Francisco, she’d done nothing but hide.

We all must choose in this life, Alessandro had said. The safety of a prison. Or the terrible joy that comes with freedom.

“Lilley.” His voice was hoarse in the limo behind her. “Damn you. Just go.”

With an intake of breath, she turned back to face him. Without a word, without letting herself think, she climbed back into the limo. She felt his shocked stare, heard his intake of breath as she slammed the door behind her.

“Do you know the choice you’re making?” he demanded harshly.

Her body trembled as she looked at him. “I used to dream of my first lover,” she whispered. “I dreamed of a knight in shining armor who would adore me forever.”

“And now?” he bit out.

“I’m just tired of being afraid.” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Tired of hiding from my own life.”

He stared at her for a long moment. Then, pressing the button to close the divider, he spoke a single word to the driver. “Sonoma.”

Lilley watched the divider lift higher, higher. It finally closed with a thunk, the noise reverberating like a door slamming behind her.

Then Alessandro moved. She had a single image of the dark heat of his eyes, the curve of his cruel, sensual mouth, as he pushed her back against the leather seat. Then his powerful body covered hers in a rough, ruthless embrace. His lips seared hers in a hot, hard kiss of sweetly poisonous honey.

Opening her mouth to his plunging tongue, she gave him—everything.

AN HOUR later, as Alessandro carried her from the limo, Lilley blinked up at him in the moonlight, feeling drunk on his kisses. She felt hot, so hot. As he held her against his chest, she swayed with every step. The night was clear and the moon glowed in the velvet-black sky.

His Spanish-style villa was surrounded by rolling vineyards frosted with silvery light. In the distance, she could hear night birds calling.

The drive from the city had passed in seconds, it seemed, drenched with kisses. When the limo had arrived at the villa, she’d been so light-headed and breathless that she’d opened the door and fallen into a sprawl on the gravel driveway. Alessandro had picked her up in his strong arms, his gaze full of heat for what was to come.

Now, as the limo disappeared down the driveway, Lilley looked up at him in wonder. The stars seemed to move over his dark head, twinkling magically in the night sky.

She felt intoxicated, and she’d had only a glass and a half of champagne at the ball. There could be no doubt what— who —was drugging her senses.

At the door, he held her with one arm and punched in a security code. Around the villa, she briefly saw a pool and tennis courts and vast vineyards beyond. Then he opened the door with his shoulder and carried her inside, kicking the heavy door closed behind him.

Inside, the villa was dark and silent as he carried her up the 1920s-era wrought-iron stairs. He didn’t have to say a word. She saw the whole sensual world in his dark eyes.

Upstairs, he pushed open a door at the end of the hall. She saw an enormous bed lit by a flood of moonlight from the windows. Reverently, he put her down on it. She shivered beneath the pool of silvery light as, never looking away from her, Alessandro pulled off his tuxedo tie and jacket and dropped them to the floor. He kicked off his shoes then climbed into bed beside her.

His hands were everywhere as he kissed her swollen lips. His embrace deepened, became hungrier and harder as his mouth pressed against hers, so hot and wet. His tongue twined with her own, and his hands cupped her breasts over the thin fabric of her gown, causing a gasp at the back of her throat. He stroked down to her waist, caressing her bare, shaking arms. Finally, he cradled her face and kissed her again with deepening fervor. She kissed him back with all the reckless passion of twenty-three lonely years.

There is nothing but now, she thought, dazed. Nothing but this.

She gasped as his hands moved beneath the clinging fabric of her bodice to her naked breasts. Her nipples tightened to hard points, sharpening in exquisite pleasure as he squeezed each of them gently between his fingers. Suddenly, he yanked the dress down, causing the spaghetti straps to snap as the fabric surrendered.