Maisey Yates - Rising Stars

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.

Setting down the magazine, Lilley rose to her feet and walked to the tiny window in her pink fleece robe. Opening the gingham curtains, she looked out into the quiet street, remembering the night she’d made the choice that had changed her life so completely, the night she’d decided to give her virginity to Alessandro.

She would regret leaving San Francisco. She’d come to love the city, and had even become friends again with Jeremy and Nadia. Perhaps she would come to appreciate New York. But she would be going alone.

Then she remembered: she’d never be alone again.

She placed her hand on her belly as a wave of joy, sudden and unexpected as a child’s laugh, washed over her. How could she be sad about how her time with Alessandro had ended, when he’d given her such a gift?

And the grip around her heart loosened. She would leave, as he wanted. But there was one thing she had to do first. She couldn’t exactly make an appointment to see him via Mrs. Rutherford, who was highly skilled at blocking former lovers from contacting him. And this wasn’t the sort of news she wished to convey via his business email address. He’d deliberately never given her his private phone number. So as unpalatable as it was, that left only one option.

Picking up the magazine, she looked down at his hard, handsome face, and at the image of the villa in Sonoma where they’d first made love. Where he’d taken her virginity. Where he’d filled her with his child.

Before she left him forever, she had to tell Alessandro he was going to be a father.

“ Alessandro, at last.” Olivia’s sultry voice immediately set Alessandro’s nerves on edge. “Did you miss me, darling?” Forcing his lips into a smile, Alessandro turned to face her, his shoulders tight. He’d seen her arrive through the window of his study. His first party guest to arrive tonight.

It was unlike Olivia to be early to anything, so that meant she’d heard the rumors. And unfortunately the rumors were true.

The five-carat diamond ring in his jacket pocket felt like an anchor, heavy enough to drag him down through the floors of his villa, through his wine cellar and continuing straight to hell.

“I’ve missed you.” Olivia gave him a smile that showed her white teeth. She was impeccably dressed as always, in a black one-shoulder cocktail dress that showed off her tanned body, muscular and slender from hours of running and self-denial. As she came towards him, her diamond bangles jangled noisily on her skinny wrist. She’d be the perfect Caetani bride, he told himself firmly.

And he needed to settle down before he became every bit as reckless and corrupt as his father. His night with Lilley had shown that all too clearly.

Alessandro pushed away the memory of Lilley’s big trusting eyes and soft, sensual body that always hovered on the edge of his consciousness. He never should have allowed himself to touch her. Never.

Olivia came forward to kiss his mouth, but at the last moment, his head twisted away, causing her lips to land squarely on his cheek. His body’s abrupt reaction surprised them both. Surely his body, at least, should have been pleased to see her? He hadn’t had sex for a month. And what a hellish month it had been.

She drew back, her eyes offended. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” What could he say? That he’d missed her while he was in Mexico City? That he’d thought of her when he’d lost his bid on Joyería to his most hated rival, that French bastard Théo St. Raphaël?

The truth was that it hadn’t been Olivia’s face he’d yearned to see the night he’d suffered that bitter disappointment.

He’d hungered for a different woman’s face. Her soft body. Her kind heart.

Alessandro took a deep breath. Lilley was likely already packing for New York. She almost certainly hated him now. He could only imagine how she’d felt this past month since he’d abandoned her without even the bare courtesy of a farewell. Usually his one-night stands at least got flowers.

But his coldness was deliberate. He was being cruel to be kind.

Olivia’s red lips lifted into a determined smile. “I was so glad when you called me,” she murmured. “I was almost starting to think you’d broken up with me.”

“I did.” He stared down at her. “I do not care for ultimatums.”

“Lesson learned,” she said, still smiling, though it did not meet her eyes. She tucked her hand into his own. Her skin felt cool. She had no softness, either of body or soul. “I’m glad we’re back together. We’re perfect for each other, aren’t we?”

Alessandro looked down at her beautiful face, her big green eyes and sharp, hollow cheekbones. Physically, she didn’t have a single flaw. She would fit well into his world. No one would ever be able to hurt her or criticize her performance as his principessa. “Sì,” he said tightly. “Perfetto.”

They walked down the hall towards the two-story foyer. From the landing, he saw many new guests had already arrived. This party had been planned in celebration of the early wine harvest, just for a few friends. But six weeks ago, feeling arrogantly certain of impending success with the Joyería deal, he’d invited business associates, thinking it would be the perfect victory lap.

Instead, the grape harvest was turning weak and the Mexico City deal was a failure. And he was going to propose to Olivia. It wasn’t a celebration. It was a wake.

With every step, he felt the dead weight of the diamond ring grow heavier in his pocket. He wondered who’d leaked the story about him purchasing it in Mexico City. Some underpaid store clerk, most likely. He’d carried it for over a week now, but he’d called Olivia only two days ago.

He’d been dragging his heels, but now he’d made his decision and wouldn’t go back. He was thirty-five and had defiled one virgin too many. He’d selfishly and ruthlessly possessed Lilley, when he’d known it would ultimately bring her pain. He’d sworn he’d never be like his selfish, callous father. And yet, seducing his innocent, brokenhearted file-room girl, he’d come perilously close.

Olivia’s cool, bony arm twisted hard around his as they walked down the stairs. The weather forecast was calling for thunderstorms, so the party had been moved indoors from the pool, although many guests had remained outside. He could hear a jazz trio playing in the ballroom, and he saw friends and business acquaintances from Silicon Valley. The men wore suits similar to Alessandro’s, and their wives wore shiny cocktail dresses, and everyone was drinking his wine. He should be enjoying this … shouldn’t he?

He heard Bronson arguing loudly at the door. His normally staid butler seemed to be struggling with an unwanted guest. “Service entrance is at the back,” Bronson insisted, trying to close the door.