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. His 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