wanted to instil propriety into the moment, remind him—and herself—of why they were here like this at all.
‘I was involved in a racing accident that left me badly hurt and no longer the kind of company a glamorous model keeps. I couldn’t offer Carlotta the luxurious lifestyle she craved any longer.’ He wanted to tell her more, tell her he knew what it felt like to be rejected, but those words failed him. ‘When I told her we were over she simply walked away and into the arms of another man.’
The soft gasp of shock that came from her lips made guilt rush through him and he turned away from her, looking again into the flames. He sensed her next to him before he felt her hand on his arm.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered softly.
What was she sorry for? His failed relationship, the accident, or forcing him to remember? ‘It was for the best.’ He snapped the words out, hoping to kill the conversation.
‘When did it happen? The accident, I mean.’ The tentative question nudged the memories back a little as her husky voice began to stir his desire again.
‘Summer. Three years ago.’ He looked into her eyes, saw the blue darken until they looked like a midnight sky. He was beginning to drown, pulled by an unknown force towards something he knew he shouldn’t sample, let alone have.
‘You sent her away because you were in hospital?’ Incredulity poured from her, but he wondered what she would have done, faced with his rage and furious need to lash out. Would she have flinched, her face unable to hide her disgust when she saw his injuries for the first time? Would she have stayed around him as his mood had blackened and his guilt deepened?
‘I was not the man she’d met, and couldn’t offer the globetrotting life she sought. So I ended it.’ The words sounded like a snarl as he slipped back in time, seeing again the moment that once lovely face had screwed up in selfish pity. ‘Grazie a Dio! It was for the best.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ The gentle concern in Tilly’s eyes was almost too much. He was glad Carlotta had revealed her true self to him. It was just sad that it had taken such an accident to show him the kind of woman she was.
‘When should you have married?’ He needed to deflect attention from himself, prevent the horror of those months coming out into the open and infesting his dreams as they always did when he thought too much.
‘An hour after Jason told me the engagement was off.’
* * *
Tilly clenched her teeth, biting back the tears. She couldn’t let them fall now. Not here. Not in front of this man. She’d thought she was over Jason, over the way he’d called everything off so suddenly.
‘Dio mio.’
The expletive was hotly followed by rapid Italian words she couldn’t understand and her need to give to tears was swamped by the urge to laugh—in a way she hadn’t done for months. How could she talk about it to Xavier and even find it funny? It was this place and being marooned from reality.
Exactly a year ago she should have married the man she’d believed to be her Mr Right. He’d been safe, comfortable, someone she’d grown up with, then he’d catapulted her into a new life, telling her she should live for the moment, as he’d done. Was that what she was fighting against now? A moment with an Italian playboy who set her pulse racing?
Xavier stepped close to her and reached out his hand, stroking the backs of his fingers across her cheek. The air cracked with tension as she continued to resist giving in to the temptation of a kiss. Seconds slowed to minutes as he moved closer still. So close she could smell his fresh masculine scent, taste it on her tongue.
She ached to be kissed by him, to feel his lips against hers.
From the hallway the old grandfather clock sounded the first strike of midnight. It chimed through the charged air and the small clock on the mantelpiece echoed it, ending the year and her contract.
‘Midnight,’ she whispered softly, unable to do anything else, the atmosphere was so laden and intense. His gaze fell to her lips and every breath she dragged in seemed to burn.
The chimes continued, showing out the old year and ringing in the new. Everything became hazy, except Xavier’s handsome face. Had the world stopped turning?
‘Buon Anno Nuovo.’ His sensually deep voice sent ripples of tingling awareness all over her.
‘Happy New Year.’ Her soft barely-there whisper was almost drowned out by the thudding of her heart and the last stroke of midnight. She had to go right now. She wasn’t ready for this. Before he could do anything to stop her, she left the room, carelessly putting her glass down as she passed a table.
‘Natalie.’
He called after her, but she didn’t stop until she was next to the Christmas tree he’d wanted banished from the house. Then she sensed him behind her and turned.
‘Don’t run from me, Natalie, not tonight.’
She looked at him, unable to decide if the undercurrent of vulnerability she heard in his voice was real. ‘I have to go.’
‘Stay.’
Was she really afraid to celebrate the New Year with a kiss or was she running because she wanted to be kissed? Would she regret it if she left now? Her heart thudded harder than ever as she looked at him. Her mouth felt dry, as if not a single drop of champagne had passed her lips.
‘No. I can’t.’
He didn’t say anything but moved towards her, the intensity of moments ago still surrounding them. She couldn’t take her eyes from his face and could hardly breathe as he moved closer.
His fingers brushed her cheek briefly before sliding into her thick hair and holding her firmly. Slowly he lowered his head, stopping before she could feel his lips on hers, and she looked into his eyes. Fireworks of passion exploded in them and beyond that display she saw something that made her want him more.
‘Happy New Year, Natalie.’ The deep tones of his voice sent sparks of heat around her body.
She swallowed hard, almost unable to form a single word as she responded instinctively in Italian. ‘Buon Anno Nuovo, Xavier.’
What was she doing? As his lips almost touched hers, she pulled back, but his hand in her hair held her. ‘Your contract is over, Natalie, and you can’t deny there is something between us tonight.’
Was he giving her permission to kiss him, to give in to the desire that thudded in her veins? His lips met hers, brushing so tenderly over them that a soft sigh escaped her. The kiss became harder, more demanding and she couldn’t help herself.
She fought hard to keep her eyes open but it was all she could do to stop her lashes lowering. His lips tasted hers and she resisted the temptation to press herself against him, hot need rushing through her. This was just a New Year’s kiss. Nothing more.
His fingers curled tightly in her hair, keeping her lips just where she really wanted them—beneath his. A small sigh of pleasure sounded in her throat as the kiss intensified, his tongue seeking hers.
She gave herself up to the ecstasy of the moment, her body filled with fiery heat. How could a kiss be so unbelievably hot? His lips trailed down her throat and her whole body trembled. He kissed her bare shoulders as he cupped her breast, the pad of his thumb grazing over her peaked nipple, causing her to drag in a breath of pure pleasure.
He moved against her and through the silk of her dress she could feel the firmness of his body, from the muscular chest to his strong thighs. Unashamedly she moulded herself against him, the hardness of his arousal pressing against her, tormenting her.
As passion threatened to overpower her, take away her last remnants of sanity, he pushed her away. Shock stunned her, freezing her mind and body. All she could hear was the thud of her pulse as her heart raced, but when she looked at him, the expression on his face had turned cold.
What