The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection

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 will 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.

‘Sleep well.’

She nodded then left before she gave in to the temptation to rush over to him, throw her arms around him and be the woman she’d been last night—the woman who loved him.

* * *

Xavier watched Tilly go and felt every last bit of willpower being tested. He wanted to go after her, sweep her into his arms and carry her to the large four-poster bed in which he’d spent the first night at the manor—alone.

He wanted to kiss her until she surrendered to him. He wanted to lure out the woman he knew deep down she was. The passionate and sexy woman who’d spent last night in his arms.

Instead he stayed brooding over his paperwork, her claims that last night had been a mistake banging around in his head. Obviously, despite her bold way of proving his scars didn’t matter and telling him the accident had been just that, she felt differently.

She was the only woman he’d let close since the accident, the only woman he’d made love to—and she was pushing him away, telling him a fling was all she’d wanted. Yet she’d been a virgin.

Maybe it was just as well the electricity was back on. It would stop him making the same mistake twice and prevent his life becoming complicated. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. With those thoughts, he went to his room, intending to take a cold shower and get some sleep, but as he stood, towel around his hips, looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror after shaving, he questioned if sleep would be possible.

How could he sleep alone after last night, when the woman who’d allowed him to take something so precious, who’d shown him things he could never have, filling the night with compassion as well as hot desire, was only a few rooms away? She was that close, but so very far out of reach.

A fluid Italian curse left his lips and he flung the towel to the bathroom floor, as if it was responsible for the wild rush of emotions coursing through him. Damn it, he wanted her, he wanted the happy future she’d allowed him to glimpse, the one she’d had snatched from her.

But she doesn’t want you. Dio mio! What was wrong with him? Since when did he believe in relationships and happiness? He’d destroyed Paulo’s family and deserved to be punished over and over. Love and happiness could never reach him through his barrier of guilt—or so he’d thought.

He got into bed and switched out the light, the darkness wrapping around him instantly. He thought of Tilly, lying alone in her bed, and wanted nothing more than to go to her and hold her, but even more he wanted to love her. Could she have changed him that much in one night?

With a growl of exasperation he threw back the covers, flicked on the bedside lamp and pulled on his jeans. He couldn’t ignore what burned inside him for the blonde who’d exploded into his life such a short time ago and had inexplicably become a part of it.

His bare feet were silent on the carpeted landing as he made his way to the top of the stairs. In the dim light he could see the Christmas tree. It still mocked him, still reminded him he didn’t deserve Christmas and the happiness it brought.

Did that mean he didn’t deserve Tilly and the happiness he’d begun to imagine with her?

Should he stop and return to his room? No, he couldn’t turn his back on not only Tilly but the happiness she would bring to his life. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked down the corridor that led to Tilly’s room.

They were still snowed in, still away from the harsh reality of the real world, and that changed things. Was one more night in that surreal world possible?

He turned away. She deserved better than him and so much more than he could give. She deserved happiness and love. With heaviness settling over him, he walked away, turning his back on what could have been if he hadn’t been the man he was.

* * *

Tilly hadn’t slept at all and without knowing why had slipped out of bed and from her room. Where was Xavier now? Was he alone downstairs, punishing himself? She wished she could make him see he shouldn’t, make him see he deserved to be loved and had to let love back into his life.

She stopped briefly in the darkened corridor, nervous of the shadows lurking in the old house, but the need to go to Xavier, to be with him, to love him—for just one more night—was too much. She made her way along the corridor to the top of the stairs. It wasn’t just the passion and desire that had turned her whole world upside down last night that drove her on in this madness. It was the love for him, growing deep inside her. This was far more than being spontaneous.

She wanted to show him her love, just one more time, because tomorrow, however it was accomplished, she was leaving. She had to get back to her life. The one without love and passion complicating it, but tonight she wanted to live the fantasy one last time. She wouldn’t be leading him on, not when he preferred affairs to relationships. She would just blur into one of many who’d warmed his bed. That thought didn’t sit comfortably, but her need for him was far stronger and she wanted to take the risk that being with him most definitely was.

Nothing else mattered. She had to go to him—just one last time.

As she came to the landing and the top of the elegant staircase she saw him. Like a vision conjured up from her dreams, dressed only in his jeans, the look on his face so distant. Traces of vulnerability lingered in his eyes and she could hardly believe it was the same man she’d said goodnight to earlier.

‘Tilly?’ The question lingered in the syllables of her name.

She took a deep breath. Now was a time to be bold. ‘I want to be someone different, Xavier, to live in a world of complete fantasy and be the woman I was last night—just once more.’

Before she had a chance to register his reaction, he’d come to her, his fingers brushing down her face as he stood half-naked in front of her. Her pulse leapt and she looked up into his dark eyes, wondering if he felt it too, this passion that had taken her over. It was so intense she trembled like a leaf in the summer breeze.

‘You are tempting me so much I can’t resist.’ His voice held a faint tremor, as if he did feel it.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips lightly over hers and she closed her eyes as pleasure swept away any lingering doubts about what she was doing. Her body leaned towards him, but he didn’t take her in his arms, didn’t pull her against his body.

She opened her eyes and looked into the fathomless depths of his. They had only one more night left in this strange world where rules and barriers were being eroded. ‘Xavier?’

‘Shhh. Forget the world exists, just for tonight.’ His breath whispered across her lips and she knew it was too late, she was already his.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, and then pressed her lips to his briefly. ‘Just for tonight.’

Somewhere deep inside her she was screaming—no, shouting—that one night would never be enough, not now she’d fallen in love with him, but sense prevailed. She knew not to expect any kind of commitment from him.

As doubts rose again he kissed her passionately, pulling her against his bare chest, making further thought impossible as the desire they’d shared the previous night erupted once more. Then he swept her up in his arms and made his way to his bedroom. She could feel each stride taking her past the point of no return, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to love him, one last time.

CHAPTER TEN

XAVIER WOKE WITH a start, his bare shoulders cold, but the warmth of Tilly’s body curled against his was a stark reminder of what had happened last night. Once again they’d spent the night in each other’s arms.

He’d experienced how loving could be and had wanted to be loved by her, and not just physically. But Tilly had made it clear it was only one more night, the last time before they returned to their normal lives. This was just a fling to her.

He reminded himself again that he didn’t deserve anything remotely like love. Not when he’d broken a family apart as easily as his bike had smashed. He dragged his thoughts back to Tilly. Had she been sent to punish him?

She’d been distant as she’d left the lounge last night and he still didn’t understand what had compelled him to go to her room. He’d known it was wrong to want her and he’d turned away, remembering how she’d told him the previous night had been a mistake. But there had been moments today when she couldn’t deny what had exploded to life between them. Or was it merely her damn list?

He’d wanted her again but had turned back, accepting if she had wanted to be with him she wouldn’t have made her excuses and gone so early to her room. But at the top of the stairs he’d sensed her, had felt her gaze on him. She too must have been drawn by the same need. Although this time he’d had no darkness to conceal how underserving of such a moment he was. But it hadn’t mattered.

He relaxed a little, the curtains at the corner of the big four-poster bed partially cocooning them, and he watched her sleep, felt every breath she took and inhaled the scent that was uniquely Tilly. Her claims of yesterday morning burned into his mind. He had been nothing more than a challenge to banish demons from her past, to rid herself of Jason. Had last night been to make sure she had achieved that?

He moved away from her, the soft sigh as she stirred making him drag in a deep breath against the rise of desire. Whatever her reaction was going to be when she woke up, he didn’t want to deal with it—not yet. He needed to steel himself against the moment she would turn her back on him.

It was only a matter of time before the passion they’d shared for a second night was obliterated by the harshness of daylight, just as it had been yesterday. He had to send her away. He had to end it, whatever it was.

He unwound himself from her warm body and got out of bed, pulled on his clothes and slipped from the room. He didn’t trust himself to glance back at the woman asleep in his bed. He couldn’t. Everything was becoming far too complicated. It had been more than a lust-filled night. He’d never wanted to feel anything more than basic desire for her. Yet she’d crept under his defences, giving him hope that maybe he did deserve to love, that he could put everything behind him.

But that wasn’t enough for him. She’d seen beyond the scars on his legs but would she see past his guilt? His actions on the track had killed Paulo—his friend. If he couldn’t forgive himself, nobody else would.

He glared at the Christmas tree as he went down the stairs, muttering curses beneath his breath. Had the damn thing cursed him? No, he’d done that all by himself.

He marched into the small lounge and glanced out of the window. Thankfully it hadn’t snowed again. At least he could organise to get them away from here. He picked up his phone from the desk and as he turned he saw the fire, now just a mass of grey cold ashes. It had been as hot as the passion between him and Tilly when they’d spent the night beneath throws in front of it.

He cursed fluidly in Italian. He and Tilly could never be together. She was far better off without him in her life. He was being selfish to want her. For once in his life he’d think of someone else. It was, after all, just a fling to get over another man she’d wanted.

Angered by that thought, he quickly accessed his emails, sending a message first to Paulo’s widow, warning her he might not make it to her charity event in Milan, then to a friend in London, explaining the situation and asking if they could source a car and driver who could cope in the conditions as quickly as possible, stressing it had to be today. He pressed ‘send’ but it didn’t make him feel relieved at all. It only highlighted that he couldn’t spend another night with Tilly, although he wanted many more nights such as last night.

‘Morning.’ Tilly’s voice broke into his thoughts as she walked into the room, dressed once more in her jeans and black roll neck jumper. ‘Thank goodness it didn’t snow any more in the night. Maybe we can leave today.’

‘Buon giorno.’ Part of him wished it had snowed, wished that it was so deep they’d be here for days, locking them away from the world and reality in a place where they could explore the desire that raged between them. ‘I’ve made enquiries about someone fetching us today.’

Their eyes met and in those few seconds he thought he saw sadness in hers, but then it was gone. ‘Good,’ she said with obvious relief, walking to the window, looking out as the rising sun cast an orange glow on everything. ‘It looks so pretty out there, but it must be cold.’

‘Freezing.’ He joined her at the window, resisting the urge to stand too close. If he did, he’d want to take her in his arms and kiss her. Such thoughts had to be pushed firmly from his mind, for her sake. Their time together was almost over. The real world called.

* * *

Tilly stood by the window, looking out at the snow, desperately trying not to notice the way her heart leapt just because Xavier had moved closer. Again he’d left her as daylight had returned. Alone in his bed, the bed he’d carried her to. It had given a clear message, just as she had when they’d met on the landing. By leaving her this morning he was saying it was over, which made it easier, because if he’d kissed her again...

As he stood looking out at the snow he didn’t make any reference to last night. Despite what she’d told him, part of her hoped that at least he would acknowledge their night together. If that didn’t tell her it was over, nothing did, but the sense of loss which filled her was intense.

By this evening she would be back in her flat. All she wanted now was to leave this place and go back to her life as if their paths had never crossed, although her bucket list would be one item shorter.

She turned away from the window, the cold and lifeless hearth of the fire signifying her moment out of reality was over. She didn’t know how long she could keep up the pretence of indifference when every nerve in her body was screaming for him.

‘When do you expect someone to arrive?’ She all but snapped the words at him in an attempt to stay in control of her battered emotions.

‘It will be at least lunchtime, but we should be back in London by the evening.’ He strode across the room and stood by the open door. She looked up at him, seeing not a trace of the man she’d spent the last two days with. ‘I’ll make us some breakfast.’

‘No, I should do that.’ If he made her breakfast after what they’d shared last night, it would be too intimate and too painful.

‘No, you are my guest.’ The insistence in his voice halted her, stemming the flow of anxious words from bubbling up within her. She’d been his guest since midnight on New Year’s Eve and had become just another woman on his long list of conquests, exactly what she hadn’t wanted to be.

Before she could argue further he left and for a moment she just stood staring at where he’d been standing. Inside her something snapped, or fell into place. Either way, things had changed. ‘Do you always make women breakfast?’

‘Never.’ He marched off, his icy comment lingering in the air as if winter had entered the house.

She was just one of many who’d shared his bed, his passion, but never his love. For the last two nights she’d loved him, not just with her body but with her heart. She’d known it was a mistake. He’d slipped beneath the barricades she’d put up around her heart, determined to keep out such emotions. Now he would break her heart, saying goodbye. But he wasn’t her Mr Right, not a womanising man like Xavier Moretti, and she’d do well to remember that.

‘At least let me help.’ From deep within her she drew on strength and courage she hadn’t known she had. He would never know just what he’d unlocked.

He looked at her, raising a brow in that devilishly handsome way, sending her pulse racing. ‘I think I’m capable of making breakfast so, please, sit and relax.’

He glanced at her when she sat at the kitchen table. It all felt too real, too much like normal life and not at all like the nights they had shared. Once again daylight was bringing harsh reality. How could he act as if it hadn’t happened?

‘I know your nonna gave you a love of food and cooking, but what made you set up a business?’ He stopped what he was doing and looked at her, directly into her eyes, his dark ones searching hers. But what for? What was he hoping to find?

She held his gaze boldly. Did he know he’d touched a raw nerve, hit on the one thing she didn’t want to talk about, this morning of all mornings? The last three days had made her look at everything differently, from her need to stay professional to the realisation that she’d never loved Jason, not passionately. She’d also questioned the inability to contact her father’s family, knowing it was because she feared their rejection. They’d done it to her mother, only Nonna having maintained contact.

‘I guess I was looking for a challenge and a bit of spontaneity in my life.’ She used his advice from last night, turned it around and made it fit her explanation, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.

‘As good a reason as any,’ he said, and cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them with obvious ease. Everything seemed so relaxed—apart from her.

‘I’m impressed.’ She couldn’t help but tease him. He really did bring out the lighter side of her, the side that didn’t worry and question everything, not needing to always be in total control. He’d coaxed out her spontaneous side a bit further with each falling snowflake.

‘Then my first mission of the day is complete.’ He put the eggs and toast on the table and sat down, his handsome face holding a hint of mischief. He was enjoying this.

‘And your second mission? Is that to get back to London?’ The questions slipped from her before she thought of any consequences, and judging by the look he cast her way it was exactly what he was hoping for and she hid her desire for things to be different behind bravado. ‘It will be a relief to get back to London.’

‘Have you not enjoyed your time here?’

How could he ask that? Tilly’s heart broke a little as the answer came to mind. Their time together had been nothing more than a fling for him. She’d been a convenient distraction from the situation they’d found themselves in and his obvious dislike of Christmas, which she knew was linked to the accident.

It should have been the same for her. Hadn’t she eventually decided he was her bucket list affair? The one that would help her move on from Jason? Somewhere along the way she’d lost sight of that. Each kiss had touched her heart a little deeper, each touch binding her to him a little bit more. She hadn’t wanted love, hadn’t been seeking it, not after what had happened last year, but it had found her.

She looked across the table at him, trying to remember what he’d just asked her, but her mind was blank. All she could think of was that this man was the man she loved, that he could be her Mr Right if things had been different, but she could never tell him. He’d made it plain that their time together meant nothing. Thank goodness she’d told him about her list, that he was merely a tick on that list.

‘I’m sorry if it’s been miserable, stuck here with me.’ There was a hint of hurt in his voice as he spoke firmly, bringing her rapidly from her thoughts.

‘No, it’s not that.’ She struggled to find the right way to explain. ‘Neither of us planned this to happen and if we are totally honest, we know what did happen wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the snow.’

‘You are right. It wouldn’t have.’ The hard words fired back at her and her heart squeezed with pain. What they’d shared had been nothing more than a passing moment. Two vulnerable people stranded together, sharing secrets. But even so she’d harboured a little bit of hope.

‘And once we are back in London?’ She almost didn’t dare ask, but she needed to know, needed to hear it from him.

For a moment she dared to allow herself to imagine him saying he wanted to see her again, that he wanted much more than just the three nights they’d spent here together. She looked at his hard expression, realising such hope was futile. What they’d shared was over. The mutually beneficial fling had come to an end, expired, just as her contract had done.

‘I will have your van returned to you as soon as possible.’ His voice shattered the fragile image of things she shouldn’t want. The fact that it would be returned and not that he would return it didn’t go unnoticed. All connections would be severed and his life would go on as before. Whereas hers... How could she go back to her life when he’d woken the spontaneous, happy and passionate woman she’d always wished she could be?