A Night of Living Dangerously Read Free

right. If she went as his date, she would be the most envied woman in the city—possibly in all of California.
    The thought of Nadia and Jeremy groveling at her feet and begging for forgiveness was a delicious one. All the times Lilley had worked late, all the times she’d asked Nadia to please explain to Jeremy and entertain him, and they’d betrayed her. She had no friends in this city now. None.
    She lifted her eyes to Alessandro’s. “I’m not a very good dancer.”
    He slowly looked her over. “I find that hard to believe.”
    “I took ballroom-dancing lessons as a kid, and my teacher asked me to quit. I was like one of those dancing elephants with tutus. All my boyfriends have complained about me stepping on their feet.”
    His expression changed, became softer. “Even if that were true,” he murmured, “the fault would be your partner’s, not yours. It is the man’s responsibility to lead.”
    She swallowed. “Um. I… I never thought of that. I just assumed I was to blame.”
    “You assumed wrong,” he said simply, then lifted his eyebrow. “But just out of curiosity, how many is all?”
    “What?”
    “ All your boyfriends.”
    Oh heavens. She couldn’t tell him her pathetic number. She lifted her chin and said with false bravado, “A few.”
    “Ten?” he persisted.
    The heat in her cheeks deepened as her shoulders slumped. “Two,” she confessed. “A boyfriend in high school, and …” A lump rose in her throat. “… and Jeremy.”
    “Jeremy. That is his name? The man who broke your heart?”
    “He betrayed me.” She looked at the floor. “But that’s not what broke my heart.”
    He waited, but she did not explain. “So go out tonight. Your dancing skills are irrelevant, because we will not dance.”
    She looked up at him with a crooked grin. “Afraid of getting your toes stomped?”
    “I do not dance.”
    Her eyes widened. “What—never?”
    “No.”
    “But you’re the sponsor of the Preziosi di Caetani ball!”
    “It raises money for my favorite charity and gets good press for Caetani Worldwide,” he said coldly. “That’s what I care about. Dancing does not interest me.”
    “Oh,” Lilley said uncertainly. She bit her lip. “I see.”
    But she didn’t see at all. How could a man like Prince Alessandro, the heartthrob of women around the world, sponsor a ball and not dance? It didn’t make sense.
    He started to reach for her hand. “Come. We must hurry.”
    She backed away. She was afraid to let him touch her again, afraid of his strange power over her body. She gulped. “Why me?”
    “Why not you?”
    Setting her jaw, she folded her arms. “You’re famous for many things, Prince Alessandro, but taking file clerks on charity dates isn’t one of them.”
    He threw back his head and laughed. Turning, he went to the large modernist painting above his desk and swung it open to reveal a safe. Turning the combination to open the door, he pulled out two platinum and diamond cufflinks, then faced her with new intrigue. “You interest me, Lilley Smith. Not one woman in a thousand would have asked me why before saying yes.”
    “I guess I’m weird that way.” She watched him put on his expensive cufflinks one at a time, saw the strength of his wrists and the sensual movement of his hands. He paused.
    “My date for the ball fell through ten minutes ago.”
    “Miss Bianchi?”
    “Yes.”
    She’d seen pictures of the Milanese heiress, who was blond, thin and beautiful—everything Lilley was not. She looked down. “I’m nothing like her.”
    “That makes you perfect,” he said harshly. “Olivia will learn how I respond to ultimatums. I need a date, and I found you in my office. It is fate.”
    “Fate,” she whispered. He came back around his desk, his body a dark, powerful shadow. His eyes locked with hers.
    “I need a date. You need revenge. This Jeremy will be on his knees for you before the night is through.”
    A low current went up her spine. No matter