New Year at the Boss's Bidding Page 12

  ‘I don’t like this.’ She’d spoken before she could think. ‘Being stuck here, I mean.’

  ‘Because of the snow or me?’ He fired the question at her as he strode through the deep snow. Finally they reached the part of the driveway that twisted through the woods and where the depth of snow was less, sheltered by the trees.

  ‘Both,’ she answered honestly.

  They’d reached the small bridge, the stream below, iced at the edges, leaving just a trickle of moving water. He pulled her to a stop, forcing her to face him, but didn’t let go of her hand.

  ‘What happened last night...’ he began, but she cut him off.

  ‘No, not now.’ She didn’t want to hear his admission that he’d never meant it to happen, that he’d never intended to make love to her with such passion, because that would be too painful. Last night should have been about just one night. A fling. But she’d let passion rule and with a start she realised she had fallen in love with him.

  She had no idea how it had happened, how her feelings had turned to something so powerful, but they had. Now she had to block that out, stop the surge of love that had flowed through her. And she would.

  ‘Yes, now, Natalie.’ He touched his free hand to her cold face, shocking her into looking at him. ‘Last night needs to be discussed—right now.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. It happened. That’s all we need to say.’ She pulled herself free and walked away as best she could through the snow. The shrill call of a blackbird startled by her sudden movement made her falter and he caught hold of her again.

  ‘Don’t walk away from me, Natalie.’ The gruff harshness of his voice shocked her as it seemed to echo in the snow-covered branches above them.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if I stand here or walk away, Xavier. Nothing will change what happened. There is nothing we can say that will change that.’

  ‘Or the fact that it shouldn’t have happened?’ At first she thought he was stating a fact, but the inflection of those last words changed it to a question. Or was that just his accent?

  She looked at him, all the fight that had bubbled up inside her evaporating, but he was right. Question or statement, last night should never have happened. Just as she should never have kissed him on New Year’s Eve, they should not have spent last night like lovers. They weren’t lovers and never could be.

  ‘Last night was a one-off, Xavier. A fling,’ she said firmly, looking directly into his eyes, her strength returning with every breath she took. She’d been scared and had sought comfort in his arms, but had found so much more. She shouldn’t have let her romantic fantasy carry her away, sweeping to one side her ability to think rationally.

  * * *

  Xavier looked down into her face, watched as the nervous hesitation in her eyes turned to sparks of determination. There were things about last night he regretted, like the fact he’d revealed far too much about himself, but not for one moment did he wish they hadn’t enjoyed the passion that had flowed between them. He didn’t regret making love to her, making her his.

  ‘A night with a beautiful woman in my arms is not something I am prepared to apologise for, but I can see you would rather it hadn’t happened.’

  ‘We were seduced by the moment,’ she said quickly, barely acknowledging his last words. ‘Can you honestly say that if we had met at a party in London, we would have spent the night together?’

  The reality of those words weren’t lost on him. The fact that they were true didn’t help. It would never have happened.

  ‘I used you...used last night,’ she continued boldly. ‘I was proving to myself I could move on and now I know I can.’

  He let her go, moved away from her, the temptation to kiss her, to taste her lips beneath his just one last time snatched away by her revelation.

  ‘Then we both got what we wanted.’ The roughness of his words shocked him.

  He hadn’t been seduced by the moment, he’d been seduced by her, by her kiss on New Year’s Eve, which had been more than just a kiss. It had held the definite promise of more, much more. But there had been something else too, something new, something he’d never felt before, and it had stirred emotions he’d thought dead.

  For the first time he’d caught a glimpse of a happy future. He’d seen it, tasted it. It would never be possible, not now she’d made it obvious she didn’t want him, that he’d been a chance opportunity to chase away the memory of another man.

  If any other woman had told him that, he’d have been relieved, but hearing Tilly say it cut painfully into his slumbering emotions. It didn’t alter the way he felt about her. If he didn’t know better, he’d even go as far as to say it might be close to deeper feelings, the sort he’d vowed not to allow into his life because of his guilt over Paulo’s death.

  But Tilly didn’t want him. She’d only wanted one night. He’d had the tables turned on him. He pushed the uncomfortable thought aside. There were far more important things to worry about—like getting back to London and away from Tilly.

  The gates he’d driven through two days ago still stood open, snow banked up against the wrought-iron bars. The lane that wound through the trees they’d just walked under was hidden from view beneath a blanket of fluffy white snow several inches deep. Only two sets of footprints disturbed the untouched surface of whiteness. He strode past the gate and out to the road, which was equally unrecognisable. They would not be going anywhere soon, that much was evident.

  He turned to look at Tilly as she stopped next to him, the look of utter devastation on her face spiking his already guilt-ridden conscience. Dio mio, as if he didn’t already have enough guilt to carry around.

  ‘So much for leaving today.’ Her delicate brows rose sharply in a gesture of haughtiness he hadn’t seen in her before.

  ‘Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Natalie.’ He turned his back on the snow-covered road and looked down at her. As she glared up at him, her lips pressed into a firm and angry line, he had to fight the urge to kiss them just once more, until they became as soft and kissable as they’d been last night.

  ‘Tilly,’ she snapped at him. ‘Nobody calls me Natalie now.’

  ‘Is that what your fiancé called you?’ he goaded her, and could almost see the snow melting beneath her feet as her anger simmered over and towards the boiling point.

  She shook her head and sadness crept into her eyes, spiking him with another layer of guilt.

  ‘Nonna.’ Her blue eyes were glacially sharp as she looked at him and he knew he’d unexpectedly touched a raw nerve, that she was thinking about the grandmother she must have adored as a child.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, moving towards her, remembering their brief conversation about her family. ‘Maybe one day you will see her again.’

  She shook her head vehemently. ‘She passed away a few years ago. My mother and I didn’t have contact with any other family in Italy. It’s in the past and the past can’t be changed.’

  Just as last night can’t be changed. The words drifted casually through his mind. Would he change it? He wouldn’t change a thing since the moment she’d arrived at Wimble Manor—except her cold rejection this morning.

  ‘I, more than most, know that is true.’ He thought of all the times he’d wished he could have gone back and changed things, but no amount of wishing would bring Paulo back. Nothing could change that day, erase it from his memory, where it was branded for evermore. ‘But sometimes, cara, you can shape the future to mend the past.’

  His philosophical words taunted him cruelly. He hadn’t achieved that miracle yet.

  ‘If that is true, then we need to use last night’s mistake. You and I both know it would never have happened under normal circumstances, but it did. If I believed in fate, I’d say we were meant to be here like this to heal our pain.’ She looked from him to the snow-covered lane, desolation clear
on her face. When she looked back at him everything about her was cool and collected, as cold as the snowy landscape.

  ‘Is that what you really think?’ He’d asked the question before he’d been able to halt the words. What had happened last night, those desire-filled hours together in front of the fire, had been so wildly passionate, so intense and new. Deep down he didn’t want to turn his back on it. He’d sampled something he might never know again and a part of him couldn’t let that go.

  Despite her strong, almost flippant attitude this morning, her sharp words and obvious disappointment at not being able to leave, she too wanted more. She might be hiding behind the taunting admission of wanting a fling, but she couldn’t ignore what drew them together—just as he couldn’t.

  ‘No.’ She looked at him then began the long walk back to the manor house, forcing him to follow. ‘We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  TILLY STAMPED THE snow from her boots as she opened the back door of the manor house, grateful to be out of the cold wind. Xavier hadn’t spoken since they’d turned back from the gates, but his presence next to her had been dark and brooding. He hadn’t denied last night had been a mistake, or that it would never have happened if his plans hadn’t been changed.

  It went against everything she believed in, but she still wanted him, still hungered to explore the passion that simmered, waiting for a touch or a kiss to spark it back into life. She’d given away a piece of her heart—exactly what she’d never wanted to do.

  ‘I have work to do this afternoon.’ His heavy accent gave away the fact that he was not as in control as he wanted her to think. She’d learnt that much about him. ‘I also need to find out when the power is likely to come back and if there is any way we can get out of here today.’

  He definitely didn’t want to be with her any longer. Last night had been enough. She’d started to tell him she wanted him, that she believed they were meant to be here, but his frozen expression told her he didn’t share that view.

  ‘Do you think that’s possible?’ She couldn’t stay here. How could she ever have thought a fling with Xavier would help her?

  He shrugged out of his coat, hung it up and looked down at her. ‘Maybe not today, tomorrow perhaps.’

  The sooner they returned to reality the better. ‘I hope you are right.’ She didn’t want to be around when he tired of her, but maybe he already had.

  His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her and her lips parted as her heart rate accelerated wildly. She wanted his lips on hers, wanted to be in his arms, but she couldn’t be the one to start it.

  ‘I’ll make something for lunch,’ she said briskly restraining her wayward desires. Her arm brushed against his as she passed him, sending a hot spark of shock through her. She had to get away from him. Maybe then she could rationalise what was happening between them. Label it and shut it away, never to be explored again. It had happened and evidently he wished it hadn’t.

  With this thought in mind Tilly made herself scarce all afternoon, spending time wandering around the rest of the old house, but it was too cold to linger for long and as the afternoon began to fade she made her way to the small lounge they’d slept in last night, anxious that the electricity still wasn’t working. The thought of spending the night alone in the cold darkness of her room was like being abandoned all over again, but she couldn’t let it show.

  ‘Looks like we still need the candles,’ she said casually as she entered the room, to find Xavier sitting at his desk, with one candle alight and the fire burning brightly, reminding her of last night all over again.

  She felt him look at her but moved to the window and stared out at the snowy landscape. It had stopped snowing, the wind had calmed and the first few stars were beginning to show themselves in the twilight sky.

  He dropped his pen onto the desk, the noise making her turn to him. ‘Don’t worry, cara, I have made enquiries this afternoon. We should have the power back by nightfall.’

  Relief flooded her, quickly followed by regret. She wouldn’t have to worry about the darkness tonight, but that also meant she would have to sleep alone and after last night that was going to be hard, especially when they were still in their surreal world, still very much alone. The thought of continuing her romantic fling filtered through, but that would never happen. It had just been one night to him and should have been the same for her, but it wasn’t.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ she said quickly, trying to hide the blush that crept over her cheeks just thinking of what had happened in this very room last night. She had to remember Xavier Moretti could never be part of her life.

  ‘So you don’t like the idea of another night in front of the fire?’ The teasing torment in his voice was hard to ignore as he unwittingly tapped into her thoughts. She continued to stare out at the wintery scene, knowing he was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, knew by her racing pulse that it was more than a curious glance. ‘That is not very spontaneous.’

  She whirled round to face him. She’d never been like that, preferring always to be in control. That way she didn’t risk being hurt. It was why she didn’t understand the way she acted around Xavier. No man had ever made her so reckless, but, then, never before had she intended to have a fling. ‘No, it’s not, and as we’ve established, last night should not have happened.’

  ‘You were very spontaneous last night—and very passionate.’

  He stopped in mid-sentence and she walked towards him, eager to make her point but instantly wishing she hadn’t as her body leapt to life with heat and desire. ‘Last night I wasn’t myself. I have never done anything like that before.’

  ‘I understand, Tilly.’ The smooth seductiveness of his voice caressed her jangled nerves, soothing the anxiety. ‘Much more than you might think.’

  As if sensing she was giving in, he stood up and very slowly moved towards her. ‘What do you understand?’ The question came out as a whisper as she tried to think over the throbbing beat of her pulse. How could this be happening again? How could she lose control of herself so quickly?

  ‘That you were afraid of the passion that burnt in you, afraid because of what happened with Jason.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with Jason.’ As she spoke, everything became clear. She’d loved Jason in a gentle, platonic kind of way and it had taken Xavier and one enforced night in his company to show her what real love was.

  No wonder Jason had wanted more than companionship. She hadn’t been able to love or let passion into her heart and their relationship. Her childhood had ensured that but it didn’t justify him jilting her on their wedding day.

  She looked at Xavier, the man she had been passionate with, and saw the dark intensity in his eyes. Did he believe her? Did he know he’d unlocked things she’d been shutting out all her adult life?

  ‘Well, mia cara, whatever the reason for last night, you should be that spontaneous woman again, live for the moment, but most of all you should let passion into your life.’

  ‘Is that the voice of experience?’ She couldn’t keep the mocking tone from her voice. Who was he to tell her what she should be?

  He moved closer still but she didn’t step back, even though she could have. She held his gaze, desperate to prove passion wasn’t burning inside her, as he’d said. But it was a lie. The embers of last night were being coaxed to life. It was happening all over again and she couldn’t let it.

  Suddenly the dimly lit room was flooded with light. Lamps glowed as the power returned. The shadows receded, taking with them her fears and the passion Xavier had almost rekindled.

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Quickly she moved away from him and the temptation of his touch. ‘At least we will have heat and light this evening.’ It also meant she’d be able to sleep alone in her bed.

  ‘And we w
ill not have to spend another night here in front of the fire?’ His sexy accent gave those words a deeper meaning, one she couldn’t think about.

  She shot him a glance, his dry tone echoing her own relief. She had to get out of here right now, before she gave in to the newly discovered spontaneity he’d mentioned and asked him to take her to his bed.

  ‘As you are busy with work, I will say goodnight.’ She kept her voice firm and devoid of any emotion, the unruffled exterior she normally lived behind returning as the panic of earlier ebbed away.

  His brows flicked up briefly, but the shocked expression was soon replaced by the cold calmness she’d seen that morning. ‘That is not necessary, not when there is a warm fire here.’

  ‘I think it is, Xavier. As I said earlier, what happened last night shouldn’t have.’

  ‘But it did happen, cara.’ He moved towards her again. She held her ground, standing tall, her chin lifted in a blatant show of defiance. ‘And that cannot be undone.’

  ‘I know that.’ The strangled whisper that slipped from her alarmed her as much as the thought of spending more time with a man who made her feel emotions she just wasn’t ready to experience.

  ‘Take candles and matches with you,’ he said dismissively, and even though she was relieved he’d let the subject go, she couldn’t help the disappointment that crashed over her.

  ‘Goodnight, Xavier.’ She forced as much control as possible into her voice, picked up the candles and matches and headed for the door. She was almost sorry to leave the warmth of the fire for a room that would probably still be cold after almost twenty-four hours without heat, but she couldn’t stay here with him any longer. Not when he tested her, pushing her towards everything she’d always resisted—everything she should still resist.

  ‘Tilly?’

  ‘Yes?’ She swung round to look at him, cursing the excited hope that flared to life.