His breath caught. “Fucking hell. You’re beautiful.” He traced the edges of her bra with his fingertips before palming her breast. The weight was heavy and full in his hand. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across the rough lace, then tugged her straining nipple between his teeth. A soft gasp escaped her lips.

Her hands raked over his back, pulling him closer as he continued his barrage against her senses. He yanked the lacy cup down and sucked the taut peak into his mouth. Shit, she tasted fantastic. And he bet even better once his tongue was thrusting inside her until she fell apart against his lips.

The sound of a phone ringing ripped through their heavy breathing like a lightning strike.

Alessandra tensed beneath him.

“Ignore it.” He captured her mouth again in slow, teasing licks and she parted her lips, inviting him back in. He had her. She was right there with him.

Ring two.

For the love of fucking God.

“Stop.” Her head arched back. She was breathless, her lips swollen from his merciless kisses.

“Are you going to make me beg for it now like you did back then? Because I will.” Pride be damned. He needed this woman out of his head once and for all. He shifted to her other breast, promptly pulling her nipple between his teeth.

“I can’t do this.” She shoved hard against his chest and pried herself out from under him.

Hudson stood and rearranged himself with a curse.

“I have to go.” Alessandra worked on retying her dress as she rounded the couch and snatched up her purse, the phone still wailing inside it.

He dragged both hands through his hair, waiting for his hard-on to take a number. “Tell me this isn’t about that pretentious fucktwit with the bullshit title?”

Her hazel eyes met his as she yanked open the door. “That pretentious fucktwit is my fiancé.”

All the air sucked out of the room as if he were trapped in a vacuum.

Hudson watched her take off as though she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. For long moments he stood staring blankly at the door, pretty damn sure shock had just taken over.

He should let her go.

He had to let her go.

But he already knew he wasn’t going to.

Chapter Five

Allie couldn’t help but wonder why her father had suggested they meet for dinner at his North Shore country club on a Wednesday night. Richard had scarcely said two words to her—or her mother, for that matter. Instead he’d spent the entire evening huddled with Julian discussing business.

Victoria didn’t seem to mind. She was far too busy catching Allie up on the latest gossip to pay much attention to her husband or future son-in-law. Allie had hoped to discuss the allocation of proceeds from the benefit but her mother was in club mode, not to mention on her third glass of wine, which meant any discussions pertaining to the foundation would have to wait until morning.

Allie watched her mother scan the dining room, her green eyes shifting from one linen-covered table to the next. She knew it wouldn’t be long until there was another scandal or rumor her mother just had to share, although she couldn’t imagine what secrets remained. She’d already heard about every tummy tuck and facelift. She knew whose kids were going to Ivy League schools and whose would be in jail if not for a team of high-priced lawyers. She was caught up on every impending divorce and knew who’d been to rehab, even though they called it a “retreat.”

The moment the server cleared the dinner dishes, Victoria inclined her head toward Allie. “Such a shame.”

“What’s a shame, Mother?” Allie despised gossip she but knew ignoring the comment wouldn’t dissuade her mother. It would only make her angry. Sometimes it was just easier to play along.

“What happened to Jennifer.”

Allie did a quick run-through of her mother’s so-called friends and drew a blank. “Jennifer?”

“Jennifer Larson.” Victoria lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. “Our waitress.”

“Jenny Larson?” Allie peered around her leather wingback chair and caught sight of a young blonde carrying a tray of dirty dishes to the club’s kitchen. “Jenny works here?” she asked after turning back to the table.

“You’d think her mother would have more pride.” Victoria made a clucking sound with her tongue. “But with all their assets frozen . . .”

“What?” Allie asked a bit louder than intended. Julian and her father looked up from their conversation. Her father frowned before turning back to whatever had the two of them so engrossed.

“Honestly, Alessandra, do you listen to a word I say?”

“Of course.” Well, sometimes. “I just don’t remember you saying anything about the Larson’s having their assets frozen.”

“They have Bernie Maddoff to thank for that,” her mother scoffed. “Now it’s freeze first, investigate later.”

Allie sat back in the oversize chair. Jenny Larson, her high school chem lab partner, was waiting tables at the club. Her table. And she hadn’t even noticed.

Victoria reached for her glass of merlot and nodded to a stunning platinum blonde making her way across the dining room. “I’d bet my Mercedes that necklace is a knockoff,” she murmured from behind her wine.

Allie had heard enough. She tuned her mother out, turning her attention to the other side of the table.

Her father was leaning close to Julian. “We’re moving up the timetable,” he said.

“Do we know who it is?” Julian kept his eyes focused on the stem of his wineglass as he rolled it between two fingers.

“No, it appears to be shell companies.” Her father drained the last of his gin and tonic. He usually had one and then switched to wine with dinner. Not tonight, though. Tonight he was on his third cocktail. “We’ll need to close the deal sooner than expected.”

“That will require the liquidation of additional assets. I can discuss it with my attorneys when I’m in New York on the eighth.”

The eighth? They had plans for the eighth. At least she thought they did. Allie was about to ask him when she saw a deep crease form on her father’s brow.

“I’m not sure a trip is wise right now, Julian.” Richard tugged on the knot of his tie. “This is a critical time.”

“Unavoidable,” Julian said with a slight shake of his head. “Laurent family business.” He lifted his glass, swirling the wine before taking a sip. “Everything is fine, Richard, no reason to panic.”

There was a lull in the conversation and Allie took the opportunity to question her fiancé. “You’re going to New York?”

“It’s only for one night, ma chérie.” Julian covered Allie’s hand with his.

“I thought we were going to the symphony on the ninth. Tchaikovsky’s fourth, remember?”

“It slipped my mind. Forgive me?” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Victoria touched Julian’s forearm. “Of course she forgives you, Julian.” She beamed at him before turning her attention to Allie. “Better get used to it now, Alessandra. Once Julian takes over the business he’ll be traveling and working late hours all the time. Don’t you remember how it was when you were young? I think your father spent more nights at that office than in his own bed.”

“It’s not like your father gave me much choice, Victoria. That man was as single-minded as he was ruthless when it came to his company.”

“And look where it got him, Richard. Where it got you, for that matter.” Allie noted an edge to her mother’s voice, but it softened as she spoke to Julian. “I just wish Alessandra’s grandfather were alive to see the two of you marry. He’d be so proud knowing his company was being passed down to royalty.”

Allie corrected her even though she knew it would fall on deaf ears. “He’s not royalty, Mother.” Far from it, in fact. While Julian’s title was still passed down through his family, it was an honor in name only. The French no longer recognized any class of nobility.