Five waiters with overflowing carts brought up fifty different items for Lilley to sample—waffles, omelets, pecan-stuffed French toast, slabs of bacon, watermelon, fruit salad and chicken-fried steak. Afterward, Alessandro escorted her to an overpriced bridal boutique downstairs in the hotel. Selecting a tuxedo for himself, he casually bought the first wedding dress she admired.
“You can’t!” Lilley cried when she saw the twenty-thousand-dollar price tag, even as her eyes traced the beaded white fabric longingly.
Lifting his eyebrow, he gave her a grin. “I can.”
They collected their marriage license downtown, then returned to their suite at the Hermitage where a bridal bouquet and boutonniere waited for them beside the grand piano. It was intoxicating. Dreamy. They made love on the huge bed overlooking the Las Vegas Strip, then made love again in the shower before changing their clothes. Then, when Alessandro first saw Lilley in her wedding dress, he pulled her straight back into bed.
Lilley sat astride his lap, riding him as he leaned against the headboard, her necklace bouncing softly against her swollen breasts with every thrust. After their third lust-fueled explosion of the afternoon, he kissed the necklace’s pink-heart crystal and brass chain. “Any man on earth would pay a fortune to have such a necklace for his wife.” His expression changed. “It’s just too bad that …”
“What?”
He exhaled. “Nothing.” Taking her hand, he pulled her from the bed. “Let’s get to the ceremony before we get distracted.”
Two hours after their appointed time, they finally married, surrounded by white candles at the hotel’s private wedding chapel. An acquaintance of Alessandro’s who owned the hotel, Nikos Stavrakis, was the only witness as they breathlessly spoke their vows.
And just like that, Lilley was a princess. Wearing a white suit he’d purchased for her, she boarded her husband’s waiting jet, bound for the Mediterranean.
On board, Lilley found the possessions his staff had packed for her. The box of her life was small indeed—just her mother’s homemade quilt, her jewelry tools and an excited, gushing note from Nadia wishing her luck and all the joy in the world. “Jeremy will be moving in with me now—I know you won’t mind because you’re a happily married princess! I can’t believe you married Prince Alessandro! You’ll be famous now!”
As the jet flew the long miles east across the country and towards the Atlantic, Lilley fell asleep on a couch, holding her mother’s quilt to her chest. When she woke up, Alessandro was watching her from a nearby white leather chair.
“I will always protect you,” he whispered, leaning forward. His eyes were dark. “I want you to know that. And I will protect our child.”
She sat up, clutching the quilt. “Protect us. But not too much.” She gave him a weak smile. “My father tried to protect me from the world he didn’t think I was strong enough to handle. If not for my mother, I would never have been allowed out of the house.”
“Which is why he wanted you to marry one of his employees.” His lips lifted in a humorless smile. “When will you tell him about our marriage?”
Her eyes slid away. “I don’t know. It’s—complicated.”
“I understand.” He looked down at his folded hands. “My father married my mother for her money, then spent it all on his mistresses, whom he flaunted to her face. He thought condoms were for the weak. He scattered bastards carelessly all over the world.”
She sucked in her breath. “Oh, Alessandro—”
He looked up, his handsome face stoic. “He died when I was nineteen, and left us only debts in his memory. My mother would have starved in the street, if I hadn’t started work to support her. When she died five years ago, she was living in a palace in Rome. As I vowed she someday would.” He exhaled. “I’m trying to tell you that you never need to worry now, about anything. I will always take care of you.”
She blinked back tears, giving him a smile as she reached across the aisle to stroke his face. “We will take care of each other.”
He turned his rough cheek into her caress, then placed his hand over her own. “You won’t regret giving up your dreams to marry me. I’m no shining knight, but I will treat you well. You won’t have a business of your own, but I will work hard for you and the baby. I’ll give you all the precious jewelry you could possibly desire.”
Frowning, she drew back her hand. “What do you mean—giving up my dream of having a business?”
He stared down at her. “You have no time for a career. Not anymore. Your place is to be my wife, and raise our child.”
“You don’t tell me this until now—after we’re already married?”
“I thought it would be obvious,” he said stiffly, looking uncomfortable.
“No,” she whispered. “You knew I would be upset. Which is why you waited till now.” She forced her voice to be calm. “I never agreed to give up my business.”
He looked at her. “If that dream had ever meant anything to you, you would have done something about it long ago.”
Lilley’s eyes widened, then she sucked in her breath. He was right. She could have built her business for years, but instead, she’d squandered her time being paralyzed by fear.
“Money will never be an issue for you again,” he tried. “I will provide you with everything you desire.” He gave her a smile. “And if you want to make jewelry as a little hobby to entertain yourself, I have no objection to it.”
“Generous of you,” she muttered.
He stared down at her, then set his jaw. “Once you have properly settled in as my bride, as the mother of our child, well then—we will see,” he said grudgingly. His eyes softened as he stroked her cheek. “I want you to be happy, Lilley. I will do everything I can to make that happen.”
Feeling his hand upon her skin, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, she exhaled. It would be fine. Somehow, it would all work out. “I want to do the same for you.”
His eyes were hot and dark as he gave her a wicked grin. “Ah, but you’ve made me so happy already. You make me happy on an hourly basis,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss her. He stopped, his face inches from hers. “Just promise you’ll never lie to me.”
“I’ll never lie to you,” Lilley promised, and she meant it, with all her heart.
“Io bacio.”
“Io bacio,” Lilley repeated, balancing a book on her head.
Standing by the window overlooking the bright-blue water of the Costa Smeralda, her Italian tutor smiled. “Tu baci.”
“Tu baci,” Lilley repeated rather breathlessly, walking across the marble floor in four-inch high heels.
“Lui bacia.”
As Lilley repeated all the conjugations of baciare, she found herself smiling. Her tutor had clearly chosen the verb to kiss in honor of her standing as a newlywed. And though her feet ached
