Maisey Yates - Rising Stars

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.

“I will always protect you,” he whispered, leaning forward. His eyes were dark. “I want you to know that. And I will protect our child.”

She sat up, clutching the quilt. “Protect us. But not too much.” She gave him a weak smile. “My father tried to protect me from the world he didn’t think I was strong enough to handle. If not for my mother, I would never have been allowed out of the house.”

“Which is why he wanted you to marry one of his employees.” His lips lifted in a humorless smile. “When will you tell him about our marriage?”

Her eyes slid away. “I don’t know. It’s—complicated.”

“I understand.” He looked down at his folded hands. “My father married my mother for her money, then spent it all on his mistresses, whom he flaunted to her face. He thought condoms were for the weak. He scattered bastards carelessly all over the world.”

She sucked in her breath. “Oh, Alessandro—”

He looked up, his handsome face stoic. “He died when I was nineteen, and left us only debts in his memory. My mother would have starved in the street, if I hadn’t started work to support her. When she died five years ago, she was living in a palace in Rome. As I vowed she someday would.” He exhaled. “I’m trying to tell you that you never need to worry now, about anything. I will always take care of you.”

She blinked back tears, giving him a smile as she reached across the aisle to stroke his face. “We will take care of each other.”

He turned his rough cheek into her caress, then placed his hand over her own. “You won’t regret giving up your dreams to marry me. I’m no shining knight, but I will treat you well. You won’t have a business of your own, but I will work hard for you and the baby. I’ll give you all the precious jewelry you could possibly desire.”

Frowning, she drew back her hand. “What do you mean—giving up my dream of having a business?”

He stared down at her. “You have no time for a career. Not anymore. Your place is to be my wife, and raise our child.”

“You don’t tell me this until now —after we’re already married?”

“I thought it would be obvious,” he said stiffly, looking uncomfortable.

“No,” she whispered. “You knew I would be upset. Which is why you waited till now.” She forced her voice to be calm. “I never agreed to give up my business.”