LITMIR.BIZ

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with her cart whenever their paths crossed, he’d been curious enough to have Mrs. Rutherford pull a copy of the girl’s file. But he hadn’t discovered anything very interesting there. She’d moved to San Francisco in June, and the file-room position was apparently her first job since working as a hotel housekeeper in Minneapolis a few years ago. Everything about her was forgettable, even her name.

      Except that was no longer true.

      Alessandro exhaled. He’d intended to teach Olivia she could be replaced with anyone, even an unfashionable, plump, plain file clerk, fresh from the farm. But the joke was on him, it seemed.

      How come he’d never really seen Lilley Smith until today?

      Unfashionable? A personal stylist at a luxury boutique had poured Lilley into a long, slinky red dress with spaghetti straps. Backless and daringly low-cut, the red knit gown seemed to cling to her breasts, teasing a man’s gaze, threatening at any moment to reveal too much.

      Plump? The dress showed off the curves her baggy clothes had hidden. Her breasts and hips were generous and wide, her waist small. She had the shockingly feminine figure that used to drive men wild … and still did. The classic 1950s Marilyn Monroe curves that made any man break out in a sweat. A droplet formed on Alessandro’s forehead just looking at her.

      And plain? That was the biggest laugh of all. Alessandro had seen the rare beauty of her naked face up close in his office—but now, after Sergio’s makeup and hair team had done their work, her loveliness was shocking. Kohl and mascara darkened her deep-brown eyes, and red lipstick highlighted the seductive curve of her full, generous mouth.

      Lilley’s long, light-brown hair tumbled seductively down her bare shoulders and naked back.

      Alessandro had watched her for weeks from a distance, but it was only today that he’d finally seen Lilley Smith for what she truly was.

      A beauty.

      A sex kitten.

      A bombshell.

      As they walked down the red carpet towards the sweeping steps of the hundred-year-old Harts Mansion, the paparazzi went crazy, shouting questions.

      “Where’s Olivia? Did you two break up?”

      “Who’s the new girl?”

      “Yeah, who’s the sexy brunette?”

      Alessandro gave them a half smile and a brusque wave. He was accustomed to being followed and photographed wherever he went, from his palace in Rome to his yacht in Sardinia to his North American headquarters in San Francisco. It was the price he paid for being successful and a bachelor. But as he led Lilley down the red carpet, her feet dragged behind him. He glanced down at her, and realized she was shaking.

      “What is it?” he said beneath his breath.

      “They’re staring at me,” she said in a low voice.

      “Of course they’re staring.” Alessandro turned to her, brushing hair away from her eyes. “So am I.”

      “Just get me through this,” she whispered, her beautiful brown eyes looking big and scared. His heart twisted strangely. Tucking her hand more securely around his arm, Alessandro led her swiftly down the red carpet, using his body to block the more aggressive photographers leaning over the ropes. Alessandro usually stopped for photographs—an unfortunate necessity to maximize publicity for the children’s charity that would benefit tonight—but he knew Lilley would never manage. Ignoring the shouted questions and frustrated groans, he kept walking, leading her up the sweeping stairs to the shadowy columns of the portico.

      Once they were inside the mansion’s double doors, past security and into the golden, glittering foyer, Lilley exhaled. Her luminous eyes looked up at him with gratitude. “Thanks.” She swallowed. “That was … not fun.”

      “No?” he said lightly. “Most women think otherwise. Most see it as a perk of dating me.”

      “Well, I don’t.” Lilley shuddered. She licked her lips, fidgeting with the low neckline of her tight red gown. “I feel like a dork.”

      Heat flashed through Alessandro. He wanted to touch everywhere her fingers were tugging, to rip the fabric off her body and cover those amazing breasts with his hands, to nibble and stroke and lick every inch of her.

      No, he told himself angrily. He had three rules. No employees, no wives, no virgins. There were too many women in the world, all too easily possessed, to break those cardinal rules. Lilley was an employee. She was also brokenhearted and on the rebound. Too many complications. Too many risks. Lilley was off limits.

      But then again …

      Alessandro looked at the red fabric barely clinging to her breasts. Looked at the graceful curve of her neck, at the roses in her cheeks and her pale skin beneath thick waves of soft brown hair. He felt a rush of forbidden desire.

      Maybe it was a stupid rule, he thought. Maybe taking an employee as his mistress was a great idea. Wasn’t his HR department always telling him to promote from within?

      Lilley’s beautiful eyes looked miserable and vulnerable. “I look like an idiot, don’t I?”

      Didn’t she realize her beauty? Why did she hide it? Why didn’t she use it to gain attention in the workplace to get ahead, as other women would have done?

      Was it possible that she really didn’t know how lovely she was? He narrowed his eyes. “You are beautiful, Lilley.”

      Looking up at him, she suddenly scowled, her lovely expression peeved. “I told you never to call me that—”

      “You are beautiful,” he said harshly, cupping his hand against her soft cheek. He searched her gaze. “Listen to me. You know the kind of man I am. The kind, you said, who would never take a girl on a charity date. So why would I lie? You are beautiful.”

      The anger slid from her face. She suddenly looked bewildered and innocent and painfully shy. He could read her feelings in her face, something else he found shocking. It was an act—right? It had to be. She couldn’t be that young.

      He’d been open-hearted and reckless too, long ago. He remembered it like some long-forgotten dream. Perhaps that was why he felt strangely, unexpectedly protective.

      He didn’t like it.

      “You really—” Lilley stopped herself, then bit her lip. “You really think I’m pretty?”

      “Pretty?” he demanded, amazed. Lifting her chin, he tilted her head up towards the light shining from the foyer’s glittering chandelier. “You are a beauty, little mouse.”

      She stared up at him, then her lips suddenly quirked. “You keep calling me that. Can’t you just call me Lilley?”

      “Sorry.” His lips curved. “It’s a habit. It was my name for you, when I was blind.”

      Lilley’s brown eyes sparkled as a smile lit up her face. “So in one breath you tell me I’m beautiful, and in the next you tell me you’re blind?”

      Her smile was so breathtaking that it caught at his heart.

      “Your beauty would make any man blind, cara,” he said huskily. “I told you that you’d be envied if you came with me to the ball. I was wrong. I will be the one envied tonight.”

      Her eyes grew big, her dark eyelashes sweeping wide against her pale skin. “Huh. You’re not so bad at this complimenting stuff.” Her smile lifted into a wicked grin. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

      Against his will, Alessandro grinned back at her, and as their eyes locked a seismic tremble raced through his body. How was it possible that he’d ever thought of Lilley as an invisible brown sparrow?

      From the instant he’d seen her pushing her little filing cart down the hall, why hadn’t he immediately seen her beauty? Lilley’s combination of sweetness and tartness, her innocent eyes and

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