Читать книгу A Kiss At Midnight: New Year at the Boss's Bidding / Slow Dance with the Best Man / The Greek Doctor's New-Year Baby - Kate Hardy - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

TILLY WOKE WITH a start the next morning. At first she couldn’t work out where she was. Then everything came flooding back. Had she really kissed Xavier last night? Or had it been a dream? Surely she hadn’t done anything so stupid? She scanned the dim room, looking for anything that would remind her and help her clarify reality from dreams.

Her gaze rested on the black silk dress she’d draped over the chair last night and she closed her eyes in resignation as her memory cleared. She had kissed him. She’d thought he would be her fling, but she’d been unable to do it.

Her cheeks burned as the scene played out again in her mind. She could hear his deep sexy voice as they’d stood in the lounge, telling her that her contract was almost over. He’d used a celebratory New Year kiss to get past her guard. But celebration had definitely not been on her mind as she’d very daringly responded to him. After making it clear she was here in a professional capacity, she had been the one who’d taken it too far.

With her mind in turmoil, she slipped from the bed and pulled aside the heavy curtains, the cold from the leaded windows making her shiver, but at least it wasn’t snowing. Hopefully she could try and get to Vanessa’s house today. She had to be at the engagement party. There was no way she wanted to upset her friend, make her feel guilty for finding love and happiness, even if it did nudge at her own failings. More importantly she had to get away from the man who’d opened up the door to thoughts she should never have had.

She took clean jeans and a jumper from the case, wishing she’d had the forethought to put them to warm on the radiator last night. Almost haphazardly, she tossed everything else back into the case before closing it and turned her attention to the dress. Whatever had made her dash out and choose such a garment? As she’d put it on last night she’d really wanted Xavier to notice her and now she blushed at that idea.

Leaving the case and her dress, packed into its garment cover, on her bed, ready for a quick getaway, she left the room. A heavy silence filled the house as she walked along the corridor to the stairs, each window she passed offering a gorgeous view of the snowy parkland, but she didn’t have time for that. She needed to pack her catering things and load the van—getting to Vanessa’s engagement party was her priority.

She looked at the Christmas tree as she came to the bottom of the stairs, its bright decorations mocking her. For the second year in a row New Year’s Eve had been a disaster. Both times it had been her fault. Either passion, or lack of it, had completely messed things up.

Walking down the corridor to the kitchen, she felt a blast of icy air and seeing the back door wide open went to close it, but not before she’d surveyed the depth of the snow and ascertained if there was any hope of getting her van out.

It looked unlikely. Snow had been driven by the wind, banking up against the wall of the courtyard and almost along one entire side of her van. Xavier’s sporty number, so covered in snow it was unrecognisable, would most definitely not be going anywhere.

Large footprints trailed through the white blanket of snow, towards one of the stone outbuildings on the opposite side of the courtyard. What was Xavier doing?

As if conjured up by her thoughts, he emerged from the barn, his arms full of logs. He looked as if he was preparing to stay for a long time. Did he not want to rush back to London? He paused briefly when he saw her. ‘Buon giorno, Natalie.’

How could he sound so...? She struggled for the right word. Unaffected? After last night she had no idea how to act with him. How did you greet a man when you had all but thrown yourself at him the night before?

‘Are you staying here longer?’ Puzzlement filled her voice as she stood back to let him past, trying to ignore the heat building in her cheeks.

He stacked the logs against the wall just inside the back door, adding to those he must have already brought in. He didn’t pause in his task, but the firmness of his voice warned her against disagreement. ‘We are staying longer.’

‘We?’ she gasped the word out in shock. ‘I can’t stay here. Not with you. Not after last night.’

He straightened, wiped his hands against each other and looked down at her, irritation plainly etched on his face. Suddenly the narrow passageway between the back door and the kitchen felt far too claustrophobic. He overpowered her completely. The scent of his aftershave nudged at memories of last night.

‘Unless you want to dig out your van and the mile or so of driveway then, yes, we are staying.’ There wasn’t a trace of the gentleness she’d heard in his voice last night. She should be glad of that, but it still hurt to think he could kiss her so tenderly then just hours later almost dismiss her. It had been nothing more than just a New Year kiss, as he’d told her. One already forgotten—by him at least.

‘But if I could get to the road...’ she began, then, as his lips formed a hard line and he shook his head, she went on, ‘The road is clear, isn’t it?’

‘It is no different from what you can see from the windows at the front of the house,’ he added grimly. Was he too finding it hard to deal with the knowledge they could be marooned here for another day? Or was it the thought of being with a woman who’d launched herself at him so blatantly when all he’d wanted had been an uncomplicated New Year kiss? Could any kiss be uncomplicated?

‘What about the main road?’ Hope lifted once more but was soon dashed by the quick shake of his head.

‘I didn’t get that far.’

‘You went out?’ She looked again at him, taking more notice of the boots he wore and the windproof jacket.

‘I walked to the gates, yes.’ He moved towards the kitchen and she let out a small breath of relief before following him. ‘I went to see if we could leave and get back to London before the storm hits.’

‘Storm? But I thought the snow we had overnight was the blizzard you mentioned yesterday.’ Every nerve in her body was on high alert and she tried to tell herself it was because of the word ‘storm’ and nothing at all to do with the man himself or the way his dark eyes watched her.

‘Last night was just snow. We are due to have blizzard conditions and the weather warnings have been upgraded.’ He pulled out his phone, accessing the weather app. ‘Blizzard conditions due to sweep across Britain today, causing massive disruption. Travel only if essential.’

‘But...’ she began, now at a total loss for words until finally her worst fears came out almost as a squeak. ‘What if we are here for days?’

‘Va bene.’ He shrugged casually and then leant back against the kitchen unit, folding his arms across his chest. The action gave him domination of the entire room, as well as her thoughts. ‘We have plenty of food. We are warm and safe. Better to stay here, no?’

No, she wanted to scream at him. It wasn’t okay. She had to get to Vanessa’s. She needed to be at that party. Vanessa had been there for her when her life had been turned upside down and now she had to be there for Vanessa, celebrating her friend’s engagement, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. On top of that she didn’t want to be trapped in the countryside, snow all around, with a man who’d awakened something deep and unexpected within her. Especially as he was so unaffected by what had happened last night.

‘I have to go. I can’t stay here,’ she began, disbelief washing over her, making coherent thought difficult.

‘You do not have much choice, cara.’ He raised a self-assured brow, seeming almost amused by her reaction.

‘I can’t stay here—with you—after last night.’ She heard the words hiss from her lips and hated herself for the loss of control he’d provoked.

‘Because you kissed me?’

‘I did not kiss you.’ Indignation at his blatant comment made her words sharp.

‘You very definitely kissed me.’ The smoothness of his accented voice sparked on her nerves like flint against steel, then he laughed as she glared at him. ‘You have nothing to fear from me, Natalie.’

How could he say she had nothing to fear from him? Kissing him last night had changed everything—for her at least.

‘I was working for you. You hired me to cater for your New Year’s Eve dinner.’ Her firm voice couldn’t hide the confusion that raged inside her.

‘And that is what you did, yes?’ He was mocking her, making fun of her for reading anything into a kiss he’d clearly forgotten all about.

‘Yes,’ she snapped, heat infusing her cheeks.

‘Then I see no problem. I contracted you to cater for New Year’s Eve and your contract was completed even before the stroke of midnight.’

The outrage at his assumption sent her mind into turmoil, as did the knowledge he was right. She had completed her contract. She was no longer here in a professional capacity. ‘That doesn’t change anything.’

* * *

Xavier shrugged. He’d enjoyed the kiss last night, maybe even a little too much, but was he ready to get involved with another woman, especially one who wanted the full package, the happy-ever-after? Since the accident he’d only dated women, never going beyond dinner, unable to deal with their almost certain revulsion at his scarring.

He sensed Tilly was different and had tested the boundaries she’d set. She may have kissed him back, may have been tempted by the passion that burned like glowing embers between them, but the fact she’d fled last night had given him a very clear message. She was off limits, he should heed that, instead of taking it as a challenge. He wasn’t the man he used to be.

‘I still can’t stay here—alone with you, Xavier. People will talk.’ A hint of resignation lingered in those last words and he knew she was right. People would gossip and make assumptions.

‘Does it really matter what people say?’ He stepped towards her and saw her eyes widen, saw the doubt and anxiety in them.

‘I’m not forcing you to stay, Natalie. Go if that’s what you have to do.’ He stepped back. He wasn’t going to make her do anything. Stay or go. It was a decision she had to make for herself.

‘It doesn’t look as if I have any choice in the matter. I’m going to have to stay here.’ She snapped the words out, agitation in every step as she walked back towards the kitchen.

He turned in the doorway and looked at her, annoyed by the look of devastation on her face. Was spending time with him that bad? ‘Very well, cara. I will fetch more logs for the fire.’

‘That sounds like you expect us to be here for days.’ Her big blue eyes widened with incredulity.

‘At my home in the Italian mountains, if bad weather is forecast it is sensible to make such preparations.’ He opened the door, about to go back to the outbuildings, the chill from outside cooling the ardour that just thinking of her kiss infused through him.

‘We are not in the Italian mountains.’ Irritation rang out of every syllable and she fixed him with a fierce glare.

‘This is true, but the forecast is not good, so indulge me in this at least, cara.’ He injected light humour into his voice and was rewarded with the smallest of smiles, the irritation of moments ago seemingly forgotten. Her lips, which had felt so good against his last night, lifted fractionally.

‘Do what you feel necessary. I’m going to check the forecast for myself.’ The brashness of her voice as she picked up her phone from the neat pile of paperwork wasn’t lost on him, but he couldn’t resist the urge to provoke more of a reaction from her.

‘Don’t you trust me?’ The question hung between them as once again he came under her scrutiny.

‘Actually, no, I don’t.’ The matter-of-fact reply shocked him and if he were truthful, he would admit the same. He shouldn’t be trusted, not after her kiss had begun to melt his stern control. He didn’t trust himself. It would be wise to step back from whatever it was arcing between them. It was something he wasn’t ready for.

‘Va bene, cara. You check the weather, reassure yourself I’m telling the truth and not keeping you here for my own pleasure. While you do that I’ll fetch more logs.’ He turned and left through the back door, welcoming the cool air against his face.

It had started to snow again as he crossed the courtyard and the sky was heavy and ominously grey. Tilly didn’t need to look up more weather forecasts—she should just step outside, feel the icy wind and see the snow beginning to fall again.

As he loaded the basket with logs he kept his mind on the weather. Allowing it to wander elsewhere would mean going back to the moment last night just before he’d kissed her. The moment he’d stopped, reminding himself she wasn’t one of his usual female companions.

She was different—and he’d known that from the first moment he’d seen her, but he’d lost reason and given in to the need to feel her lips beneath his. Any honourable intentions had evaporated as she’d responded, instantly firing the desire that had simmered inside him.

Smettila! No good would come of replaying that moment over and over. He had to stay resolved to the fact it had meant nothing. Hundreds of people would have shared a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

But would it have been a kiss like that?

‘Maledizione!’ He cursed as he filled the log basket, hurling them in harder than was necessary. Never had he known a woman to affect him so much. Why did it have to be this one and why now?

Snow was falling steadily as he made his way back to the house, content that if the worst happened and they lost power, as was often the case at his mountain home, they would be warm.

He tried to push all his thoughts away, lock them behind a door and return to the professional relationship she had worked hard to maintain. But that kiss lingered in his mind and a hot burning need streaked through him. They had been warm last night. Too warm.

As he closed the back door against the swirling snow, she came into the hall, her phone still in her hand, a worried frown creasing her brow. If he could give in to the instinct of protection, he’d wrap his arms around her and tell her it would be all right, but he couldn’t allow that temptation.

‘You were right,’ she said, the heated tone of her words letting him know it hurt to admit that. ‘I’ve rung Vanessa and she said the roads are bad there and insisted that I should stay here.’

‘And are you?’ He watched the worry and panic filter across her face, wishing he could smooth them away with a kiss.

‘Am I what?’ The question snapped at him, revealing much more of her fear than he thought she’d like him to know.

‘Going to stay here?’

‘I don’t have much choice about it.’

He stifled a smile and adopted an air of aloofness. ‘In that case, I suggest making up the fire in the small lounge for this evening.’

‘The small lounge?’

‘It is where I was working yesterday and is much smaller. If the electricity fails, it will be warmer.’ He carried the log basket along the corridor and out into the main hallway. The damn Christmas tree still mocked him with its merriment. If they stayed here much longer, he’d be forced to do something about that. Every time he saw it he imagined those children having Christmas after Christmas without their father.

He forced the dark thoughts of Paulo from his mind and went into the small lounge. He knew she’d followed him. He could feel it with every nerve in his body but pushed away the pulse of desire as it began to move through him.

‘Wouldn’t going to bed be warmer?’ The innocent question rocked his senses, sending them spiralling into overdrive.

He put down the basket on the hearth of the fireplace and looked at Tilly as a blush spread across her cheeks. The kick of lust that burst through him at the thought of her in his bed and in his arms made a response to such an innocent comment almost impossible.

‘Alone,’ she added firmly, before he could muster his response.

‘Sitting here together, in front of a fire, will be much warmer and far more sociable, no?’

‘Not very professional, though,’ she added with a haughty rise of her brows that verged on flirtatious.

‘I thought we’d settled this. You are no longer here in an official capacity.’ He moved towards her, drawn by the memory of her lips against his. ‘Your contract was completed once dinner was over last night. You are now my guest.’

* * *

Tilly could hardly think for the pounding of her heart. Did he have to move so close, remind her of the kiss she’d responded to?

‘I—I still have work to do,’ she stammered, and stepped away from him, away from the temptation of inhaling his heady masculine scent. ‘I have things to pack away, and if we are going to be here tonight we’ll need to eat, so I am still working for you.’

She knew she was talking too much, that her jumble of thoughts would probably sound incoherent. Jason had always told her she talked too much when she was nervous. Jason. The name dropped into her mind like a large stone into a rock pool, sending all previous thoughts out in a huge splash.

At least it focused her mind. It didn’t matter how much she was attracted to Xavier, he wasn’t what she needed in life. The last thing she wanted was a man renowned for working hard and playing even harder.

‘You are now my guest, Natalie, but if it makes you feel better, va bene.’

His voice was deep and those Italian words not only set her heart racing but tugged at precious memories from long ago. They became as clear as if they’d happened yesterday—her grandmother cooking, her parents happy together. All that had been before her father’s illness, before her childhood had been shattered by his death.

With the weight of the past pressing down on her, she forced her mind back to the present, her voice sharper than she’d intended. ‘It does make me feel better, so I’ll leave you to do the caveman job and light the fire.’ Before he could say anything she strode purposefully from the room. Time away from the aura of power he exuded was necessary if her heart rate was to return to anything like normal.

As she left the room she heard the low rumble of his laugh and marvelled that she could find it so sexy, so appealing when he was clearly mocking her, entertaining himself at her expense.

Xavier’s charm was lethal if nothing else. Anywhere else she could walk away, but stuck here in this rambling old house, cocooned from the real world, it was different—very different and very dangerous.

‘Don’t fall for his charm,’ she berated herself angrily, as she continued to pack away her catering equipment, certain that first thing tomorrow she would be on the way to see Vanessa before returning to London and reality. This surreal interlude would be over, forgotten and dismissed.