A Night of Living Dangerously Read Online Free PDF Page B

or loyalty, I will help you win him.”
    Lilley flashed him a grin. “Um. You’re too kind?”
    “Just tell me one thing,” he demanded.
    “Only one?”
    His fingers moved down her shoulders, stroking down the warm, bare skin of her back. He saw her eyes widen, felt her shiver and he fought back the urge to yank her body hot and hard against his own. “Why would you want him back, after he made you weep?”
    Her smile fell. She took a deep breath, then lifted her left wrist. “Look at this.”
    A change of subject? He looked down at the bracelet on her wrist. He’d noticed it earlier, a pastiche of welded materials—colorful crystals on a brass chain, interspersed with rusty-looking numbers and held together with a tarnished buckle. “What about it?”
    “I made it.”
    He grabbed her wrist, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head as he tried to make sense of the bracelet. He pointed to the metal number dangling off the chain. “What’s that?”
    “A room number from an eighteenth-century Parisian hotel.”
    It seemed strange to him, an artistic hodgepodge of junk. “How do you source the materials?”
    “At flea markets and vintage shops, mostly. I create jewelry using old things I find.” She swallowed. “I met Jeremy at San Francisco’s trade show a few months ago, when my employer thought I was visiting my family. Jeremy loved my jewelry. We decided to be partners and open a boutique together. He was going to handle the financials. I would create the inventory.” She blinked fast, and looked away. “When he chose my roommate over me, I lost that dream.”
    He could see her eyes were shiny with tears, and his insides gave a little twist. “The man’s a damned fool,” he said roughly. He tried to think of how to comfort her. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” he tried. “Running a business is a huge risk. You might have lost your investment. People don’t want old trinkets. They want their jewelry shiny and new.”
    Her lips trembled, curving as she looked up. Her eyes were bleak. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”
    His attempt at comfort was a clear failure. But Alessandro knew words weren’t enough to make anyone forget the loss of a dream. He had no idea how to make Lilley forget her pain. He knew only one way, the same way he used to forget his own.
    But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t allow himself to make love to her.
    The orchestra started a new song, and the notes of an exquisite classical waltz swirled around them like cherry blossoms tumbling from the sky. Lilley looked out at the crowded dance floor wistfully.
    She’d told him she wasn’t a good dancer, but he didn’t believe that for an instant. He’d seen the sensual way she moved. Even walking, her body swayed like sunset against ocean waves.
    But he couldn’t dance with her. His hands tightened at his sides. He was helpless to offer comfort.
    Unless he made love to her.
    What could it hurt? His lust argued against his brain.
    One night of pleasure. A few hours of comfort. One night wouldn’t risk making her fall in love with him. It wasn’t as if she were a virgin.
    Although she was shockingly close. Two boyfriends. He still couldn’t believe she’d only been with two men. She truly was innocent. And yet she’d seemed embarrassed of her number. He wondered what she would think if he told her how many women he’d slept with. Something he would never do, even if he knew the number.
    “I’m sorry I don’t dance,” he said slowly.
    She looked down. “It’s all right.”
    The scent of her hair was like wild roses. He moved closer, fascinated by the swoop of her neck, by the snub edge of her chin. Her cheeks blushed a soft pink against creamy skin as her dark eyelashes fluttered. He asked suddenly, “How old are you, Lilley?”
    “Twenty-three.” She furrowed her brow. “Why? How old are you?”
    “Ancient to you. Thirty-five.”
    “Thirty-five, and still not married?” She sounded as astonished as his