New Year at the Boss's Bidding Page 9

  ‘But you haven’t, have you, cara? Not completely.’

  What was going on here? It was as if all her past hurt was being dragged out for inspection, forced out by this man and the situation they were in. ‘It’s hard to forget the humiliation of being stood up just hours before your wedding.’

  ‘But you are still in love with this man?’

  She wasn’t in love with Jason, not the way she should have been, she realised with a jolt. She’d been in love with the idea of companionship and their longstanding friendship. She’d thought she’d found her happy-ever-after with a trusted and safe friend. It was only now she realised that all along she’d been afraid to love; she hadn’t wanted to be like her mother, constantly searching for something so elusive it almost destroyed her.

  The day her father had died, her relationship with her mother had changed, leaving her emotionally alone. A gap soon filled by Jason’s friendship. He had been patient, never pressuring her to make it physically more, so the fact he’d found that somewhere else only added to her pain.

  She shook her head in denial. ‘He is about to get married. After telling me he wanted freedom to live life to the full.’

  Indignation at the revelations he’d made to her about wanting more than just friendship came flooding back. She knew then she’d lost a friend as well as a fiancé. Sadness had been in his eyes as he’d told her he wanted more than friendship and he’d fallen into an affair.

  ‘He’d said we should go out and find life, live it to the full, make the most of every opportunity.’

  ‘Did you?’ He watched her intently but she looked into the leaping orange flames of the fire.

  ‘Yes, I made a list of all the things I wanted to do.’ She’d responded with more information than she’d intended, the ability to talk to him like this as unnerving as it was liberating.

  ‘So...’ He moved fractionally closer. ‘What is on this list?’

  ‘To make my business successful.’ She felt her cheeks redden as she thought of how she’d contemplated a romantic fling with him. ‘I only started it in the spring.’

  ‘That I think is being achieved. Anything else?’

  ‘To go back to Italy and find my father’s family. We lost touch when he died.’

  ‘Nothing exciting or different? What about something for you? Something you’d like to do that would change you or your life?’ His words were velvety smooth and she couldn’t look at him, knowing how close he was to the truth that he could be on the list.

  ‘I’d like to go to America and ride a cowboy trail, and do something spontaneous.’ She couldn’t say that something was to have a romantic fling or that she was seriously considering it right now.

  He nodded in approval and the pounding of her heart and the wail of the wind seemed louder. She couldn’t help herself but look into the darkness of Xavier’s eyes, the sizzle of something powerful sparking between them. He’d admitted to pushing his girlfriend away after the accident and she knew he’d had a constant string of women in his life since he’d arrived in London. He was worse than Jason, discarding a woman without a second thought.

  The question was on the tip of her tongue when the lights went out. No warning flickers this time. Thank goodness for the candles. She didn’t think she could tolerate darkness now, not when her past had been dragged up for inspection.

  ‘I’ll go and check the fuses,’ he said as he stood up, the candlelight softening the usually hard angle of his face. ‘But I suspect the storm is responsible.’

  ‘How long will you be?’ The little girl in her surfaced and she fought to keep the tremor from her voice.

  ‘Not long.’ He picked his phone up from the table, turned on its torch and looked at her, concern in his eyes. Was that for her or the situation? ‘Stay here.’

  Tilly had no intention of venturing away from the candlelight and listened to his footsteps as he crossed the wooden floor of the hallway, feeling more alone than she ever had. The old house wasn’t warm and welcoming any more and the pain of last New Year’s Eve lurked in all the dark corners.

  She moved from the sofa and sat down on the rug in front of the fire, needing the warmth of the leaping flames, wanting to feel the heat on her face, needing it to stop herself from thinking too much.

  * * *

  Xavier pushed open the door to find Tilly sitting on the floor, one arm pulling her knees tight against her body as she sat in front of the fire. She looked gorgeous. An innocent vulnerability radiated from her and the urge to protect her, to keep her safe from whatever fears she was hiding from him, welled up in him.

  She looked up at him as he closed the door. ‘The power is definitely off,’ he offered, as he made his way to the fire, throwing on another few logs. ‘The blizzard must have brought down power lines.’

  ‘Is it that bad out there?’ She shivered and he reached for the faux fur throw that was draped over the sofa.

  Her eyes widened as he moved towards her, vulnerability on full display in their blue depths. Every barrier she’d erected against him was down. This was the real Tilly.

  ‘This will keep you warm.’ He put the throw around her and couldn’t help but inhale her perfume. Light and floral, not at all like the seductive scent of last night, but it was just as alluring.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, the husky sound testing him, reminding him again how she’d tasted last night, how her body had felt against his. The frustration of last night not having reached the conclusion he’d wanted raged inside him, but he pushed it back. He had no right to want more from her.

  He sat down next to her, ignoring the pain in his legs, wanting to be close to her. The usually bubbly Tilly had disappeared. She was fearful and he was convinced it was more than just the storm she feared.

  ‘You’re in pain,’ she said softly, concern all over her face.

  ‘A constant reminder of the accident.’ He couldn’t keep the sternness from his voice as he tried not to remember his split-second lack of concentration that had caused the crash.

  ‘Sorry.’ She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her blue eyes soft and inviting. He curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for her. He needed the pain to remind him that his actions had caused Paulo’s death, leaving a widow and young children. He didn’t need her misplaced sympathy.

  He sat next to her, the heat of the fire seeping into him as if he were on a sun-drenched beach. He stretched out his legs and leant his back against the sofa. Beside him, Tilly moved, drawing herself closer, as if seeking protection and safety from the darkness. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her, drawing her close. It felt so right, as if he’d come home.

  ‘How did the accident happen?’ Her voice was a whisper, stirring his senses as well as soothing his pain.

  He didn’t want her to know what he’d done, but for the first time ever he needed to tell someone, needed to talk. ‘It was a wet race,’ he began, sliding back into the horror of that day. ‘The track was slick and like most riders I’d had my tyres changed. The team wanted to make other adjustments but I wouldn’t allow it, not when all the other riders were out there. Part of the excitement is being in the starting line-up, engines revving and adrenalin flowing.’

  She didn’t speak or look at him, as if knowing he didn’t want that. Instead she relaxed against his chest and focused her gaze on the fire. He lowered his face into her hair and inhaled the fresh smell of shampoo. But even that couldn’t hold him in the present, stop him from hurtling back to that nightmare day.

  He was there at the track, the noise of bikes, the smell of fuel and the rush of adrenalin so clear. The usual exchanges between teammates filled the air and in the pit lane he waited for those adjustments to his bike. He wanted to get out into the line-up, but the mechanics were still working and he became impatient. H
is competitors revved their bikes, the sound a challenge. He told his team to hurry.

  ‘I rushed the pit team to hurry the wet-weather modifications just so I could get out onto the track. There was no way I was missing the race, not when the championship was at stake.’

  Tilly moved slightly, picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, shattering the image of the track in his mind. She looked up at him, her lovely face slightly flushed from the heat of the fire. What would she say when she knew it was his fault a rider had died, because of him and his insistence the bike be ready to race?

  She was so close he could see the darker flecks within the summer sky blue of her eyes, which had sparked with passion last night. He could feel the warmth of her legs against his as she curled up inside the throw, snuggling closer, unwittingly testing him.

  He wanted to keep her against him, needing the comfort of her body and so much more.

  ‘Aren’t things like that strictly timed?’ she asked, her brows raised in question, genuine curiosity in her voice. ‘I was always under the impression the pit teams were trained to be fast.’

  ‘Do I detect a little bit of interest in motorcycle racing?’ He smiled at her, despite the heavy cloud of memories which hung over him.

  ‘Not really, sorry.’ Her smile was apologetic as she looked up at him, but it shone in her eyes briefly before it was gone. ‘Jason used to follow all kinds of motorsport.’

  Jason again. Damn the man.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She placed her glass on the hearth and touched his arms, which were tightly folded across his chest. Was that to avoid touching her or to keep her at bay—emotionally? ‘Talking about the accident must be hard.’

  ‘It is.’ He seized on the deviation in the conversation. ‘My career ended that day and my life changed—for ever.’

  ‘But you are doing so much good with the scholarship programme.’ She looked into his face, drawing him from the blackness of the mood that lingered with more threat than the gale-force winds outside the manor house.

  ‘You know about that?’

  She blushed deeply. ‘Naturally I research my clients.’

  His lips stiffened into a firm line. How much more did she know about him? ‘And did you find your research adequate?’

  ‘I didn’t look for salacious gossip if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘You mean the sort of gossip we are creating at this very moment, alone in a remote house?’

  He moved forward, drawn by those very kissable lips, wanting nothing more than to feel them beneath his again. She didn’t move, her gaze holding his, questions and anticipation swirling within them.

  ‘Are we creating gossip?’ Her husky whisper nearly tipped him over the edge and it was all he could do not to kiss her until neither of them wanted to stop.

  ‘There isn’t anyone here to say a word to the outside world.’ He searched her face, looking for a hint of the desire that flowed like hot lava through his body. ‘Nobody will ever know what we do.’

  She glanced at the flickering candles, then back to him. ‘It’s like being in another time or place, somewhere reality can’t reach.’

  Tentatively, as if he were reaching for a skittish animal, he caressed her face, the backs of his fingers brushing down the softness of her cheek. ‘We are surrounded by darkness, nothing can reach us.’

  ‘It’s a little scary being in this old house on such a stormy night.’ The cracked whisper almost broke his control, but he managed to resist the urge to hold her against him, to kiss and caress away her fears.

  ‘There is nothing to fear, cara.’ He pushed her hair back gently from her face, relishing the thick glossy length falling through his fingers.

  Those blue eyes searched his face briefly but as his hand pressed against the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, she moved towards him. He saw her eyelashes flutter closed and then his lips were against hers, the electrifying pulse racing through him. With a groan of pleasure he wrapped the other arm around her, pulling her against him so that she was almost on his legs.

  He could feel the heat of her body, every curve pressing into him, reawakening the need she’d stirred last night. One so strong he’d never known anything like it before.

  He wanted her—tonight.

  * * *

  Tilly sighed as he deepened the kiss and pulled her close. She knew she shouldn’t surrender to his kiss, as she had done last night. His reassurance that she had nothing to fear had pushed her over an edge she realised she’d been balancing on, not just since last night but since the moment she’d seen him standing in the doorway yesterday, looking so sexy and mildly amused. It had been almost like love at first sight. Not that she thought such a thing was possible, not with a man like Xavier, but what was possible was a romantic fling. All she had to do was let go of her insecurities, be someone else, be spontaneous, free herself of her fear of passion and give herself to this man—just for one night.

  That was what she wanted, what she needed. To be kissed by him, held by him, but more than that she wanted to be loved by him just for one night. Tonight they were in another world, a place far away from time and untouched by reality.

  As that thought meandered through her mind, Xavier’s groan of pleasure sent sparks flying around her body and the mesmerising throb of desire that was building deep inside her began to bubble up, leaving her in no doubt where this moment would end.

  ‘You taste so delicious, cara.’ He pressed a flurry of tantalising kisses down her throat, hindered by her roll neck jumper, and pressed her forehead against his, her hair mingling with his. If she tasted delicious, he smelt it.

  She let out a ragged and startled breath as he took her face between both of his hands, forcing her to look deep into his desire-laden eyes. ‘This moment was meant for us, bella Natalie. Questo momento è per noi.’

  His husky and heavy accent together with the use of Italian sealed her fate. All she wanted was to throw caution to the wailing wind and abandon herself to him and the moment, to let go of everything and do what she wanted without a thought for what would come after. She wanted to love Xavier, in every possible way. Tonight she was his—and he was hers.

  ‘Xavier.’ She whispered his name, unsure if it was a question or a demand. She should tell him, warn him she had no experience, that she was a virgin, but his eyes met hers, so dark she thought she would drown in them, and she couldn’t say anything.

  His lips claimed hers, hard and demanding, sending fire scorching through her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with a need she’d never known before. This wasn’t the staid kisses she’d shared with Jason. This was pure explosive passion.

  His tongue slid into her mouth, seeking hers. It was wild and erotic. The pulse of wanton desire rose inside her and she craved more, so much more. She matched his passion, her tongue entwining with his until she thought she might burst into flames.

  He pushed her down onto the rug, the rumpled throw beneath her, but she kept her arms around his neck, pulling him with her until she could feel him pressing against her. His chest, which expanded with deep and fast breaths, pressed against her breasts and with one leg between hers she could feel the hardness of his erection against her thigh.

  Every nerve ending in her body responded as she enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms, being kissed by him. He stopped kissing her and, brushing her hair away from her face, looked down at her. ‘I want you, Natalie, and, I’m not going to be able to stop if I continue to kiss you like this.’ The words were thick with passion, a hint of unsteadiness in them.

  ‘Then kiss me.’ The husky whisper that came from her was something she’d never heard before but, then, she’d never been so consumed by passion before. The whole experience was new and exciting. She’d never been intimate with a man and had had no idea it could be like this. ‘Kiss
me, Xavier.’

  The fierceness of the last kiss was gone, replaced now by something more gentle yet infinitely more exciting. As his lips teased hers, his hand slid under her jumper, the heat of his touch on her skin so extreme she gasped in a startled breath. His kiss deepened, his tongue entwining with hers as his hand covered her breast, his fingers trailing along the edge of her bra, making her breasts ache for his touch.

  He moved himself down her body and kissed her exposed stomach, pushing her jumper ever higher until all she wanted was to feel his kisses on her breasts, tasting each hardened peak. She closed her eyes against the pleasure, a soft sigh of contentment slipping between her lips as he continued to tease her, kissing lower, nearing the fastening of her jeans.

  It was exquisite.

  She pushed herself into a sitting position and he looked at her, his passion filled eyes holding a question. She couldn’t speak, but instead took the bottom of her jumper and lifted up her arms, bringing the black roll neck over her head. She dropped it at her side and partially unclothed in jeans and a black bra, boldly stayed there as his hungry gaze devoured her.

  ‘Sei una bella donna.’ Each wonderfully sexy word was more like a harsh growl and she knew he was hanging onto his control by a thread. It excited and amazed her to think she was responsible. This was definitely spontaneous.

  He moved towards her, kissed her lips then down her throat. She leant back on her arms, her head dropping back as his kisses moved downwards. Her heart hammered when he moved lower and kissed the swell of first one breast then the other. It was so nice she began to shake.

  ‘You are cold?’ He stopped and looked at her, concern obvious in his face.

  ‘No, I’m not cold,’ she sighed. She wasn’t cold, just afraid of what she was about to do, even though she wanted it more than anything.

  He smiled knowingly at her, but glanced at the fire. ‘A few more logs will keep us warmer for longer, no?’

  She didn’t need the fire to keep her warm, not when the one he’d started was raging inside her. As he moved away, she watched him, wanting nothing more than to see his body, feel his skin against hers. The thought sent her pulse racing.