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of them naked, back upstairs. They didn’t even make it to his bedroom, but ended up on the priceless heirloom rug in the upstairs hall.

      They spent the rest of Sunday making love in every room of his villa. In the garden, in the library, in the study, and finally, long past midnight, back in his bed. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

      But now, just a few hours before Monday’s dawn, Alessandro was wide awake as Lilley slept beside him. He’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love in the last thirty hours. More than ten. He paused, then shook his head, amazed. Less than twenty?

      Each time he possessed her, instead of being satiated, he only wanted her more. His passion for her consumed him, and his hunger only grew.

      But their weekend was over. He looked down at her, kissing her forehead softly as she slept in his arms. He listened to her breath. She clung to him, naked, sighing sweetly in her sleep as she whispered something that sounded like his name.

      Guilt, a very unfamiliar emotion, blew through Alessandro like an icy breeze. Virgins fell in love. He knew that too well. They were not experienced enough in the ways of the world to separate their bodies from their hearts. And a girl like Lilley, so warm, vivid, brilliant and kind, deserved a man who could give her a future. A man who could actually love her.

      Unlike his usual sort of mistress, Lilley Smith was not a ruthless coquette who used her body as a weapon for power and gain. He wondered if he could ever again be fully satisfied by a cold-hearted woman like Olivia Bianchi. How could that ever compare to Lilley’s intoxicating warmth and joy as she gave all of herself, body and soul?

      Already Alessandro wanted her again.

      Angrily, he clawed back his hair, which was still damp from the sweat of their passionate night. Careful not to wake her, he rose to his feet and walked naked through the balcony doors, out into the warm, clear August night. Moonlight stretched over his vineyards, frosting the hills with silver as he looked out at his land, trying to calm his unquiet heart.

      He closed his eyes, feeling every bit of his thirty-five years. His soul felt old and dark compared to hers. Was that his intention—to suck up her youth and optimism like a vampire, feeding on her innocence until his own darkness consumed her?

      “Alessandro?” he heard her murmur sleepily.

      Gripping his hands, he went back into the bedroom. He found her lying in bed, her gorgeous curves covered only by a sheet. She sat up in surprise when she realized he’d been standing naked on the balcony. “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing,” he said.

      She swallowed, biting her lip. “Do you regret our time together?” she whispered. “Are you thinking about—Olivia?”

      “No!” Shaking his head, he said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m thinking about the Mexico City deal. Wondering how our design team in San Francisco will update the Joyería designs once they take over.”

      Alessandro closed his mouth with a snap, shocked at his own stupidity. He’d been so concerned about not hurting Lilley, he’d blurted out something he should never have revealed to anyone except his board of directors. If it became public, it would ruin everything. He’d given Joyería’s current owner, Miguel Rodriguez, some legally vague reassurances that he would keep the Mexican designers on staff and the studio in Mexico City separate from Caetani Worldwide’s offices in San Francisco, Shanghai and Rome. If Rodriguez heard about his plans to economize, the man could well cancel the deal and sell the company to a competitor.

      Alessandro looked at Lilley sharply, but she seemed completely unaware of the import of the information he’d unthinkingly shared. She smiled, shaking her head.

      “You always work, don’t you?” she said softly. “That’s why you’re so successful.” Her gaze grew troubled as she hugged a pillow over her breasts. “Maybe if I were more like you, I wouldn’t be such a screw-up.”

      He frowned. “A screw-up?” he demanded. “Who said that?”

      Her smile became sad. “No one has to say it. I came to San Francisco to start my jewelry business, then chickened out.” She looked down at the bed. “I’m not brave like you.”

      He sat down beside her. “There are all kinds of bravery in the world, cara.” Reaching over, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You have an open heart. You trust people in a way I could not. And your jewelry is unique and beautiful. Like you,” he said huskily. Setting his jaw, he gave her a decisive nod. “You will start your business when the time is right. I know it.”

      Her large brown eyes looked up at him with almost painful hope. “You do?”

      “Yes.” He dropped his hand. “I failed many times, in many different businesses, before I made my first fortune. Selling children’s plastic bracelets, of all things.”

      She gave an amazed laugh. “You? Selling plastic bracelets? I don’t believe it.”

      He gave her a sudden grin. “It’s true. The trend exploded across America and I made my first million. I was determined to succeed. No matter how many times I failed, I wouldn’t give up.” He stroked her hair. “You are the same. You just don’t know it yet.”

      “You think so?” she breathed, her eyes huge.

      He nodded. “If it’s important to you, you’ll make it happen. Whatever it costs.”

      “What made you so driven to succeed?”

      His lips flattened. “When my father died, he left debts I had to repay. I dropped out of college and worked twenty hours a day.” He looked away. “I will never feel powerless again.”

      “Powerless? But you’re a prince!”

      “Prince of nothing,” he said harshly. “An empty title I inherited from a fifteenth-century warlord. The men of my family have always been corrupt and weak.”

      “But not you.” Her clear eyes met his. “You are the leader of Caetani Worldwide. You built a billion-dollar company from nothing. Everyone loves you,” she whispered.

      He felt uncomfortable with the adoration he saw in her eyes. “I’m nothing special,” he said gruffly. “If I can start a business, so can you. Start a business plan, work through the numbers.”

      “That might be hard, since I read letters and numbers in the wrong order.”

      “Dyslexia?”

      She nodded.

      “What is it like?”

      “It’s different for different people. In my case the letters and numbers won’t stay put.”

      He barked a laugh. “And you’re working in my file room?”

      She gave him a sudden cheeky grin. “Now you understand why I was working late.” Her voice became wistful. “I’ve never been really successful at anything except making jewelry. Maybe that’s why my father thinks I’m hopeless at taking care of myself. He threatened to disinherit me if I don’t come back to Minnesota and marry one of his managers.”

      “Disinherit you!” Alessandro pictured a hard-working farmer with a small plot of land in the bleak northern plains. “He wanted you to marry a manager on his farm?”

      Lilley blinked, frowning at him. “My father’s not a farmer. He’s a businessman.”

      “Ah,” Alessandro said. “He owns a restaurant? Perhaps a laundromat?”

      Her eyes slid away evasively. “Um. Something like that. My parents got divorced a few years ago, when my mother was sick. The day she died was the worst day of my life. I had to get away, so I found … a job … with a distant relative. My cousin.”

      She stumbled strangely over the words, looking at him with an anxiety he couldn’t understand.

      “I’m sorry,”

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