Rising Stars. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
then lifted her chin. “A friend. I’m here with a new friend.”
She turned to Jeremy.
“And you were right,” she said. “I was never there. Not for you. And not for our business. I had all these dreams, but I was afraid even to try. I’m—I’m sorry.”
Jeremy blinked, and the angry light in his eyes faded. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “You’re a nice person, Lilley, sweet and generous. You didn’t deserve to find out about Nadia and me that way.” He gave her an awkward smile. “I always liked you. But after you moved to San Francisco, you just … disappeared.”
“I know.” Her throat hurt. Every time Jeremy had made an appointment for them—at a bank, with a potential investor, with a real estate agent—she’d suddenly had somewhere else to be. She’d hidden behind her work. Her fear had won. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you ever forgive me, Lilley?” Nadia whispered.
Lilley tried to smile. “Maybe if you do the dishes for the rest of the month.”
“I will. Two months. Three!”
“And I’m sorry the boutique didn’t work out.” Jeremy rubbed the back of his sandy-blond head sheepishly. “I still think your jewelry is fantastic. You’re just not ready to take the plunge. But maybe someday …”
“Right,” she said over the lump in her throat, knowing it was a lie. “Someday.”
Her roommate was openly crying as she leaned forward and hugged Lilley, whispering, “Thank you.”
Lilley’s throat hurt as she watched Jeremy and Nadia disappear into the crowd. Then she heard a dark, sardonic voice behind her.
“You didn’t tell them about me.”
She whirled around. “Alessandro.”
“I was waiting to see you take your revenge.” His tall, muscular body moved with a warrior’s grace as he held out a flute of champagne. “Why didn’t you tell them?”
“Because Jeremy was right. I never wanted him. Not really.” She took the champagne flute from his hand and said softly, “If I don’t have the guts to pursue my dreams, I shouldn’t be angry if other people do.”
“You could have made them suffer.” His dark eyes were puzzled, almost bewildered. “I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us,” she whispered, and took a long drink of champagne. The bubbles were a cold shock against her lips as she tilted back her head, gulping it all down. She closed her eyes, waiting for the alcohol to reach her brain and make her forget how she’d been so afraid to risk failure that she’d made it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
What was the point in her avoiding risk, if she ended up losing everything anyway?
“You’re crying.” Alessandro sounded aghast.
She exhaled, wiping her eyes. “No.”
“I saw his face when he looked at you. He could still be yours for the taking, if you chose.”
Lilley thought of the stricken expression on Nadia’s face. Thought of the way Jeremy’s hand had lingered protectively on her roommate’s back. Thought of the way Lilley had never, not for one instant, felt a single spark of physical attraction for Jeremy—something she’d never even noticed until she’d experienced the lightning sizzle of electricity with Alessandro.
She shook her head. “I wish them all the best.”
“God, you are so nice,” he whispered, pushing back wavy tendrils of her hair. “How can you be so—merciful?”
An unexpected bolt of pain went through her. Another man calling her nice. Another word for timid. Terrified. Coward. No wonder Alessandro had called her little mouse.
Blinking fast, she looked down at her scandalous red dress and sexy high heels. “Do you think I’m a coward?” she whispered.
“What are you talking about?” Taking her empty flute, he pressed his own full glass into her hand. “Here. Drink this.”
She looked up at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. “I shouldn’t have said that aloud. You must think—”
“I think nothing.” His dark gaze seared through her soul. “Never apologize for telling me what you’re thinking. You can’t hurt me. There is nothing between us, so you risk nothing.”
She blinked at him, feeling quivery. “Now you’re the one who is being nice.”
He snorted, then shook his head, a small smile playing on his sensual mouth. “That is one accusation I’ve never heard before. Now drink.”
Obediently, she took a sip. As she drank, she heard him muse aloud, “Delicious, isn’t it? I just bought the winery from a Brazilian. Cost me a fortune.” His lips curved. “But it gives me a great deal of pleasure, since I know it infuriates my worst enemy.”
Lilley’s eyes flew open as she pulled the flute from her lips. She said faintly, “Not the St. Raphaël vineyard.”
“Ah, you recognize it?” He smiled in satisfaction. “It once belonged to the Count of Castelnau. Now it is mine.”
“You don’t say,” Lilley said faintly, feeling sick. She’d heard Théo, her cousin and former employer, rage about losing that vineyard in a business deal to a Brazilian. It was only after he’d lost it that he’d realized its value. Typical, she thought. People were so much better at pursuing things they didn’t need instead of enjoying what they already had.
But the two men had competed over acquisitions with growing ferocity for the last five years, ever since Théo had bought a small Italian luxury firm that Alessandro considered rightfully his by geography. If he ever found out she was Théo’s cousin, he’d never believe Lilley wasn’t a corporate spy. Especially after catching her in his office, all alone in the dark!
Her knees trembled. He caught her. “Are you all right?” he asked, looking concerned. “Did you drink the champagne too quickly?”
She looked up at him. She’d left her father’s and cousin’s names off her résumé because she’d known Caetani Worldwide would have never hired her otherwise, in spite of Jeremy’s recommendation, no matter how honest or hard-working she might be. But telling Alessandro the truth would gain her nothing, and would cost her her job—forcing her to go home to her father and perhaps even consider his demand that she marry his employee, a man twice her age.
“Lilley?”
“I just need something to eat,” she managed. “I haven’t eaten all day.” She gave him a weak smile. “And I did jog a half mile.”
“Of course.” Taking the half-finished flute from her hands, he set both glasses on the silver tray of a passing waiter and gave her a sudden grin. “I’ve arranged for a private dinner of sorts. My driver has taken a selection from the buffet to the limo. We’ll enjoy a little picnic on the way home.”
“A picnic? In your limo?” she said faintly. She shook her head, feeling dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with champagne. With a wistful sigh, she looked back at the glamorous ballroom. “All right. I just—didn’t expect it all to end so quickly.”
“All good things come to an end,” he said, holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, she took it. He led her across the ballroom, stopping many times to say farewell to his friends and admirers before they finally escaped up the stairs, through the foyer and out the double doors.
Outside, beneath the hundred-year-old mansion’s shadowy portico, the August night was foggy and cold. “It must be midnight,” she murmured.
“Almost. How did you know?”
“Because all night I’ve felt like Cinderella.”