‘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