“Mother,” Allie interrupted, not caring if she’d think her rude.

“Oh, Alessandra, perfect timing. I was just telling Elizabeth all about the wedding plans.”

“Your mother tells me you’ve moved the wedding up to the beginning of December.” Allie watched as Mrs. Prescott’s gaze swept over her, tensing when it lingered a bit too long on her stomach. “It sounds like it will be lovely, dear. Late enough for the decorations to be up but still plenty of time before we all flee the dreadful cold on holiday.”

Victoria nodded in agreement. “That’s exactly what I was telling her. The lights on Michigan Avenue are beautiful that time of year, and wouldn’t it be perfect if the park in front of the hotel had a fresh blanket of snow?”

Allie gaped at the two women as they discussed how much snow they’d like to see—enough to cover the grass, but not freeze the lake—and when they’d like it to fall—so enough time has passed to clear the roads, but not so long that it turns black at the curb. When she could take no more, she cut them off with a crisis sure to attract her mother’s undivided attention. “The caterer needs to speak with you, Mother. Something about a substitution on the brand of caviar.”

Her mother sighed. “Honestly, if it isn’t one thing it’s another.”

“Always something,” Mrs. Prescott said. She brushed cheeks with Victoria before joining another group of women.

“Did he say what brand, because I specifically ordered—”

“Relax mother, there’s no caviar emergency.”

She looked utterly confused.

“Did you tell Mr. Ellis I was resigning after the wedding?”

If it weren’t for the recent injections, Victoria’s eyebrows would have shot up in surprise. “That’s what all this is about?”

“You had no right to speak on my behalf,” Allie snapped.

Victoria turned to ice. “Watch your tone.” Her voice was much louder than Allie expected, but she regained her composure quickly. The smile returned to her face, and when she spoke again her tone was hushed, though just as lethal. “I’m your mother. I will not have you speaking to me in that manner.” Taking Allie by the arm, she led her away from the crowd. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to tell Bob about your plans. The subject came up and I mentioned it. Simple as that.”

The last line was said with complete finality. Allie knew from past experience her mother considered the conversation over, but she was far from done discussing the matter. “I haven’t decided what—”

The sound of Allie’s cell phone stopped her midsentence.

Victoria’s face lit up. “Oh, is that Julian? Be sure to tell him how much he’s missed this evening.”

The screen read “private caller,” but Allie seriously doubted the call was from Julian. Other then the message he’d left on her answering machine, she hadn’t heard from him since he arrived in Paris. “Hello?”

“Excuse yourself.” The sound of Hudson’s deep voice sent a chill down her spine.

“I . . . um,” Allie’s eyes darted to her mother. “I’ll need to call you back later.”

Victoria tsked. “It’s late in Paris. Talk to the man.”

“Tell whomever you’re with that you need to take this call,” he instructed. “Move to some place private.”

Allie waited until her mother drifted out of earshot. “Can we discuss this after the party?”

“No.”

“Hudson, I can’t—”

“I’m not a patient man, Alessandra. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She turned away from the crowd and lowered her voice. “There are people everywhere. Where exactly do you suggest I go?”

“I’m sure there are at least a dozen rooms upstairs,” he said through clenched teeth. “Pick one.”

“I can’t just disappear. My parents are hosting the event.” She stole a glance over her shoulder. “They’ll be looking for me”

“Do. It. Now.”

His command made her knees go weak. What was it about this man that could be so aggravating one minute and so unbelievably hot the next? Allie gave a resigned sigh and, against her better judgment, started toward the house. She kept her head down, trying not to draw attention to herself as she weaved through the mingling guests. Fearing her mother might be consulting with the caterer, she avoided the kitchen and dining room altogether and slipped through the glass doors of the conservatory instead.

When she reached the foyer she paused briefly to make sure no one was watching before dashing up the stairs to her childhood bedroom. It looked exactly as it had when she was a little girl: French provincial furniture, lace bedspread, porcelain dolls. God, how she’d hated those porcelain dolls.

“Okay, I’m in my old room. What was so important I had to—”

“Take your panties off.”

“What?”

His voice dropped. “You heard me.”

Allie felt her face flame. “Hudson . . . I can’t do that.”

“After some of the stuff we’ve done, don’t get squeamish now. I had you cuffed to my ceiling, Alessandra. Something I hope to do again.” His words were more promise than threat. A promise she suddenly found herself wanting to hold him to. “Or maybe next time I’ll cuff you to my bed, every inch of your fuckable body at my disposal.”

His possessive tone sent of rush of heat through Allie’s body and a flood of erotic images along with it. She envisioned herself tied to Hudson’s bed, completely at his mercy and delirious with pleasure.

“You’re picturing that, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because right now I can’t stop picturing you bent over my desk, naked and wet. Your hips lifting in anticipation, greedy to have me inside you. The hell if my assistant is mere feet away, because it has to be here. It has to be now.”

A small gasp escaped her lips. “You’re at work?”

“Yes. I kicked everyone out of my office in the middle of a deal.”

“You did?” Her heart beat faster. “Why?”

“I started thinking about last night, how you were spread out on my dining room table, rocking against my mouth. Fifteen hundred dollars an hour for the best legal opinions money can buy and I couldn’t focus on a damn word they were saying. All I could hear were the sounds you make when I’m inside you, those little moans of pleasure when you’re about to come.”

Allie’s breath hitched. His confession shocked her and at the same time she found herself incredibly aroused. She pressed her thighs together, amazed at how a simple phone conversation could have her aching with need.

“I cleared the room to call you and at the moment I’m looking out the window with my cock laying hard against my stomach. Does that turn you on, Allie, knowing my cock is out and ready for you?”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she pictured him stretched back in his chair. Jacket off, tie loosened, pants unzipped.

“Now do as you’re told and take your panties off.”

Allie drew a deep breath and reached under her dress. Her fingers trembled as she hooked her thumbs into her lace panties and swept them down her legs.

“Are they off?”

“Yes.”

Hudson’s voice was low and rough, but his tone turned sensual. “Lie down on the bed.”

She flipped the lock on the door, the small click echoing in the darkness. A sliver of moonlight guided her to the bed, where she followed his instructions, lying back against the ruffled pillows.

“Pull your dress around your hips.”

Her fingers curled into the green fabric as she inched her dress over her hips. Cool air rushed against her naked core, making her feel vulnerable and exposed. She knew what he wanted, what he would ask for next, and she braced for his instructions.

“Touch yourself. Feel how hot and wet you are.”

Allie hesitated before tentatively brushing her fingers up the inside of her thigh. The sound of laughter floated up from the patio and she tensed. Even if she could somehow manage to block out the rest of the world, it wouldn’t be enough. The ache between her legs begged for his touch, not hers. “I can’t,” she whispered.