Alessandro's Prize Read Online Free Page A

accorded with genuine admiration as they descended the stairs.
    Alessandro was in the process of ending a call as they reached the spacious lounge, and she watched idly as he slipped the device into the inside pocket of his jacket before moving forward to greet them.
    Attractive, intensely masculine in impeccable tailoring, white shirt in fine cotton, silk tie—he was something else, Lily perceived.
    There was a depth to him, well hidden beneath the outer trappings his wealth could provide.
    For a brief moment she sought to define it, and failed to adequately pin it down to any one quality.
    Yet there was an instinctive sense of a need for self-preservation, a wariness that warned that when he played, he played to win. In any situation, be it a business deal, or a woman.
    It wasn’t difficult to imagine the type of woman he would seek. Tall, slender, beautiful, a socialite who would be the perfect hostess, please him in bed, bear him the requisite heir and turn a blind eye when he sought out a mistress.
    â€˜Charming,’ Alessandro accorded with a smile that encompassed both women, and Lily caught the faint gleam of humour as his eyes caught and held her own.
    For a brief moment she had the uncanny feeling he’d read her mind. Something she immediately dismissed as being ridiculous, for she wasn’t that transparent…surely?
    â€˜Shall we leave?’
    The hotel was situated adjacent the neighboring BotanicalGardens, and entrance into the hotel’s exclusive lobby revealed beautiful fittings and furnishings.
    Directions to a private lounge where the designer after party was being held were on display, and Security checked invitations at the door.
    Once inside, Lily was met with a wave of the beautiful people, a few recognizable actresses, a model or three among them, and an abundance of glitz and glamour.
    Members of the paparazzi were there with camera flashbulbs snapping the rich and famous, and the not too discreet journalists rapidly recording names as they matched who was with whom .
    Voices filled the room, vying with background music which fought to be heard above snatches of Italian, French and English.
    The people, the fashions, the sheer ambience … It was, in a word, amazing.
    â€˜Darling, you look absolutely stunning,’ a light feminine voice offered in gushing tones. ‘Who are you wearing?’
    â€˜A British designer who’s making quite a name for herself.’
    â€˜Really. Who?’
    The name was lost as another voice intruded, male, this time.
    â€˜Alessandro. Sophia.’ Dark eyes settled on Lily. ‘And this is?’
    â€˜Francesco,’ Sophia acknowledged with polite charm. ‘Allow me to introduce my niece, Lily. Francesco Alverro.’
    A tall man, whose practiced smile appeared exactly that—practiced—as Lily took the hand he extended. And ignored the silent invitation in the intimate press of his thumb against her palm.
    â€˜We must get together.’
    Not going to happen, she silently declined as she freed her hand.
    â€˜We have a number of social engagements planned over the next few weeks,’ Sophia relayed with seeming regret.
    â€˜At a few of which we’re bound to meet again.’
    Lily felt the light touch of Alessandro’s hand at her waist, and managed not to freeze into immobility. What was he doing?
    â€˜Perhaps,’ Alessandro conceded smoothly. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’
    Francesco inclined his head, eyes gleaming with wicked recognition for an instant before he stepped aside.
    â€˜I’m quite capable of judging men for myself,’ Lily intoned quietly minutes later as a guest engaged Sophia in conversation.
    â€˜Of course you are,’ he agreed with the barest hint of cynicism, and she wanted to hit him for alluding to her disastrous relationship with James.
    â€˜That was uncalled for.’
    â€˜You would do well to steer clear. Francesco has a history of enjoying