ahead for Charlotte. Nico wanted to reach across the table and catch her hands. To offer to be there for her as a friend in the weeks or months ahead.
But this faux relationship wasn’t supposed to continue, was it? Charlotte wouldn’t want it to. Having her in a committed relationship with a potential family in the future might be at the top of her grandmother’s bucket list but Nico could still hear the vehemence in Charlotte’s voice when she’d declared that it was never going to happen.
So he said nothing. Instead, he followed Charlotte’s example and stared out of the window. There were sparkles of light swirling outside in a mesmerising kaleidoscope.
‘Look at that,’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s snowing. It’ll be a white Christmas for some people.’
‘I love a white Christmas,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘It makes you feel like you’re living inside a Christmas card. I think the best Christmas I ever had was one where Gran and I got completely snowed in and the electricity went off. We ended up cooking the chipolatas that were supposed to go in with the turkey on sticks on the open fire. I was only about nine but I was so impressed that Gran knew how to do stuff like get the fire going and cook sausages.’
‘Sounds special.’
‘What’s the best Christmas you remember, Nico? Was it white?’
‘No. It never snowed in our part of Italy.’ Funny that to remember his best Christmas he automatically wiped out any year after he’d been whisked off to Ireland. ‘It would get cold, though. I think the best Christmas I can remember was outside. We had a terrace with a long wooden table that was under grapevines. In the summer it was leafy and cool and in the winter there was an open fireplace big enough to roast an ox. For some reason we had Christmas dinner outside that year. Possibly because so many family members had gathered. There were aunts and uncles and cousins I never knew I had.’
‘How old were you?’
‘About six.’
‘Did you have turkey?’
Nico shook his head. ‘That wasn’t traditional. We have the feast of the seven fishes on Christmas Eve and then on Christmas Day we have lots of pasta and then roast meat like chicken or beef. And potatoes.’ He frowned. The food hadn’t been what had made that Christmas memorable.
‘There was music,’ he continued softly. ‘My father was at the head of the table and he was so happy. Between courses he would drag my mother away from the kitchen and dance with her in front of the fire. There were so many people. So much laughter. So much love…’
‘Family.’ The word was a whisper and Charlotte’s eyes were as bright as he’d ever seen them when Nico turned from the view of the snow. ‘It’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it?’
‘It was once…’ Nico had to clear his throat. The memory of that particular Christmas was disturbing because it evoked a yearning he’d thought he’d put behind him many, many years ago. Part of the heartbreak he would never want to inflict on a child. Or a woman. Or have inflicted on himself ever again.
Dessert of a classic plum duff with crème anglaise and brandy butter came and went with a noticeably more sombre mood at their table. It was a relief when a steward came to tell him that Lady Geraldine was ready to be escorted back to her cabin whenever it was convenient for him.
‘Or I can arrange another escort?’ The steward tilted his head to include Charlotte. ‘If you and your fiancé wish to stay longer?’
‘No.’ It was Charlotte who spoke up quickly. ‘We can finish now.’ She didn’t meet Nico’s eyes. ‘If that’s all right with you, Nico?’
‘Sì. Of course it is.
The last thing Charlotte expected when she returned to her suite after helping her grandmother get undressed and settled into her bunk for the night was to find Nico still there.
She had thought he would be long gone. Having a nightcap in the bar and ready to wait until he thought she was safely asleep before coming back to get what rest he could on the seat in this compartment. Not that she expected to get much sleep herself but it would have been a relief to shut the connecting door and have a space entirely to herself for a good few hours. No chance of losing control and making a fool of herself that way.
Now she was distinctly unsettled. Not only was Nico here but he’d taken off his dinner jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His bow-tie was undone as well, hanging down beside the undone top buttons of his shirt. His hair was rumpled, as if he’d thrust his fingers through it more than once, and it was long enough since he’d shaved to give his jaw a dark shadow. He looked ever so slightly disreputable lounging on the padded upholstery of the seat.
And ultimately desirable.
Maybe that was why Charlotte’s words came out more sharply than she’d intended. ‘I thought you were going to the bar.’
Nico raised an eyebrow. ‘It occurred to me it might be a good idea to wait until Jendi was asleep. What if she wanted to go to the bathroom and saw me abandoning my beautiful fiancée?’
Oh, God…this was getting way beyond a joke. Charlotte had had enough.
‘It’s not funny, Nico.’
‘No…it’s not.’ Nico got to his feet. ‘Shall I tell you the real reason I haven’t gone to the bar?’
He took a step closer and Charlotte was pinned by the heat in his gaze. She still had a hand on the door to help her keep her balance as the train rocked, and Nico was swaying on his feet but his gaze didn’t waver in the slightest.
She couldn’t respond to the question but it didn’t seem to matter. Nico was going to tell her anyway.
‘I didn’t want to,’ he growled.
Charlotte didn’t have to ask why not. She could see the see the answer in his face. Could feel the flicker of heat spiral deep in her belly. The words forced themselves out anyway, though, as she tried to buy enough time to process what was happening. ‘W-why not?’
‘Because I wanted this instead.’ Nico closed the gap between them. He steadied himself with one hand over Charlotte’s against the door but he slid the fingers of his other hand behind her neck and then up into her hair as he cradled her head and dipped his own so that their lips could touch.
His mouth felt familiar now. Safe. Charlotte knew that the touch of his tongue against hers would provide a pleasure so intense it was almost pain but her lips parted eagerly and her tongue met his halfway to begin the dance. And this time the give and take of the kiss changed into more than an exploration and taste of pleasure. This time it had an urgency that demanded more.
And that was enough to make Charlotte pull away. To snatch a gasp of breath and then shake her head.
‘I…I don’t understand…’
‘Yes, you do, cara,’ Nico said very softly. ‘I want you.’
She shook her head again, more insistently. ‘But…why?’
Nico leaned against the door. He still had a hand cradling her head and she felt his fingers move in a caress. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Because I’m…not your type. You said so.’
Nico smiled that smile. The slow, lazy one. Except that this time it seemed to be gentle. Reassuring? ‘I say stupid things sometimes.’
Charlotte had to drop her gaze. Dammit. The train seemed to have picked up speed and the way it was rocking made her more acutely aware of the proximity of Nico’s body. Of how it would take nothing for her to fall just a little closer and mould her own body against his.
‘This can’t go any further,’ she said.
‘Why not?’ The words were a whisper. A question, not an accusation. If she said the word Nico would stop but