Читать книгу A Kiss At Midnight - Kate Hardy - Страница 12
ОглавлениеXAVIER TOOK TILLY’S small overnight bag from her, trying not to notice the ever-present sizzle whenever he got too close. ‘I’ll show you to your room.’
‘There must be a way I can get to the bed and breakfast.’ She looked at him, the determined jut of her chin showing just how much she didn’t want to be alone here with him. ‘I can’t just stay here.’
He took a few steps away from her, giving himself badly needed distance. ‘What kind of man do you think I am, to allow you to drive late at night in such treacherous driving conditions? I have a house full of rooms and not a single guest and will not allow it.’
‘If you put it like that...’ She looked at him, the warning in her eyes shining out at him. ‘But only for tonight. Whatever happens, I have to leave for Vanessa’s party tomorrow.’
‘We are both at the mercy of the weather, Natalie. This way.’ He marched into the hall, past the Christmas tree and up the wide staircase. He knew she was following, every nerve in his body alerted to her proximity.
He paused briefly at the top of the stairs and looked down at her. She stopped and met his gaze. Tension zipped between them and he inhaled deeply, instilling control back into his body, trying to dull his heightened senses. It was as if her body was speaking to his, despite those barriers she’d erected.
He continued to the far end of the house, a view of the grounds, covered in snow, visible from the windows as they made their way along the corridor. It was the furthest room from his and, judging by the way she made him feel, that was a good thing. He hadn’t ever been tested like this and he’d forgotten what temptation was. The accident had changed him, made him immune. Evidently, that wasn’t the case any more.
He opened the door of the bedroom at the end of the corridor and went in, placed her bag at the foot of the bed and watched Tilly as she came in. She moved around the room, her pleasure in its opulence showing in her innocent delight at her surroundings.
‘Are you sure I should be staying here?’ she asked tentatively, as she looked up at the four-poster bed, draped in cream and gold fabric. ‘I’m not strictly a guest.’
‘I invited you to join me for dinner this evening, so now you are a guest.’ His tone was abrupt as he fought the emotions she stirred in him. She glanced at him, questions and anxiety filling her beautiful blue eyes.
‘Not in the true sense,’ she said softly, and moved towards the windows and the ever-darkening view of the grounds. ‘It’s snowing even more heavily now.’
As far as he was concerned, it could snow for days. Nothing was more appealing than the thought of finding out more about Natalie Rogers. He wanted to break down her barriers of professionalism and disciplined organisation to discover the passionate woman behind them, because he knew such a woman existed within her. Intuitively he sensed she was different from any woman he’d ever dated. She had an earthly innocence about her and was totally unaware of just how alluring she was.
‘I will leave you to unpack.’ He had to go now, before he pulled her into his arms, because if he did, she wouldn’t be slipping away from him as easily as she had done earlier.
* * *
For the rest of the afternoon Tilly had worked hard, changing the menu once more and setting the table in the grand dining room. Anything other than think of the man she was effectively trapped here with. She should feel worried, scared even. She hardly knew him, but there was something between them, as if they did know one another and whatever it was she was determined to ignore it.
It was dark now but she could still see the large flakes of snow falling past the window, dashing any last hopes she’d had of leaving later this evening for the bed and breakfast as planned.
She and Xavier were snowed in. It was so different from last year’s debacle and not at all what she needed. This New Year’s Eve she would be in the company of a man who set her pulse racing with just one dark and brooding glance, something Jason had never done.
From the hallway she heard the tall elegant grandfather clock strike seven and knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to change into the dress she planned to wear at Vanessa’s engagement party—if she ever got there.
The choice of an elegant black dress that oozed glamour and sex appeal had seemed perfect as she’d tried it on in the shop. It would prove to everyone that she’d moved on, grown up even. Now, with its plunging back, it was completely inappropriate but, then, so was staying in jeans and a jumper or even her uniform. She was worried what Xavier would think. It was too much for their impromptu meal together, but it was all she had.
Maybe Xavier wouldn’t have changed. The thought gave her hope as she crossed the hallway, glancing distractedly at the Christmas tree and wondering who had opened presents from beneath its decorated branches just a few days ago. She paused on the bottom step and reached out to touch a sparkling gold decoration, her fingers sending it spinning, the light catching it.
She longed for the day she could create the perfect Christmas for a family of her own, but her childhood had made it difficult to allow love into her life. With a sigh, she knew she might never have a family of her own. She’d loved Jason, he had been her best friend, but he’d dumped her, not even caring it had been their wedding day.
Christmas this year should have been their first as a married couple, but instead it had been very quiet, which was for the best. Just as taking this contract to get away from London had been. She’d been so excited when the email had arrived, stating how highly recommended her business was. It was just the boost the business needed.
Movement at the top of the stairs caught her attention and she glanced up, instantly wishing she hadn’t. Xavier stood there, watching her moment of reflection. He was dressed in a full evening suit that all but clung to his body, accentuating his height and the broad width of his shoulders. The image he created was one of perfection, straight out of a movie.
He was devastatingly handsome. Just seeing him like this did untold things to her heart rate, setting off a ripple of flutters inside her stomach. A dart of panic rushed through her, quashing those inappropriate thoughts. She was going to have to spend the evening with this man and engage in conversation in a setting that was far too intimate. What had she got herself into?
He began to descend the stairs, his gaze locking with hers, and once again that movie moment made her feel light-headed. His lithe yet powerful movements were something she’d never seen in a man other than on the big screen. Had she slipped from the real world the moment she’d crossed the threshold of Wimble Manor?
‘Buona sera,’ he said, as he stopped on the same stair she was currently rooted to, his dark eyes full of knowing amusement. A little spike of anger darted through her. He knew full well he created an image women craved and right now was exploiting it to its full potential. Well, it wasn’t going to work on her.
‘I’m just going to change.’ The throaty whisper that came from her sent a blush to her cheeks and she resisted the urge to flee and run upstairs as fast as she could. Instead she smiled at him in the most professional way possible.
‘I’ll wait for you in the lounge.’ His sensual accent stirred new sensations deep within her, but outwardly she remained composed. She had to. To show him anything else would be a mistake.
‘I will be as quick as I can,’ she said lightly, and began to walk calmly up the stairs, while inside she fought the urge to bolt like a startled animal.
‘Take your time, Natalie.’
She closed her eyes as she heard her name spoken so beautifully. She knew he was still watching her. Her skin tingled from his intense gaze and with every step she took it became harder to ignore, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around yet. As she reached the top of the stairs and looked down at him, their positions reversed, her heart hammered so loudly it almost echoed around the old walls of the manor.
She wanted to give him a curt reply, show him his charm didn’t work with her, but her ability to speak had deserted her.
He smiled, his brows lifting suggestively, and the full force of his power washed over her. ‘We have all night, no?’
She blinked at the deeper meaning in those seductively accented words. If he thought she would just fall meekly into the role of his new conquest, simply because she was the only woman available, he was very much mistaken. ‘I will join you when I’m ready.’
With that she flounced away, his soft and incredibly sexy laugh following her along the corridor. This wasn’t what she’d planned for New Year’s Eve. After Jason had abandoned her, she’d wanted nothing more from this New Year’s Eve than to hide behind her new business and away from friends who thought they knew just what she needed.
She walked into her room, flicked on the lamps and drew the heavy curtains against the cold night and turned her attention to her dress. How could she wear that tonight? In the company of a man—her client—who made her feel and think things she had no right to? He was dangerous. She had no idea why, no reasons to justify it. But she sensed it.
Was she reading more into their exchanges, allowing her head to be turned by his charm? Was her judgement coloured by the almost undeniable attraction she felt for him? He’d only flirted mildly with her and she knew a man like him, who had his pick of high-flying beauties, wouldn’t be interested in her. Not only was she a jilted bride but she was a virgin, far too inexperienced.
She may be supressing the attraction which had simmered to life since the moment she’d arrived here, but he was being the playboy he was reputed to be.
‘You’ll do well to remember that, Tilly Rogers,’ she said to her reflection, as she looked at the gorgeous black silk dress that had transformed her from hired staff to dinner guest.
She thought of Xavier in the tailored suit that had instantly increased that sizzle of attraction for him. Would he feel the same when he saw her in this dress? Would he think she was attractive? Would he want her? She smiled at the notion of him falling for her as if they were playing out their own fairy-tale.
Annoyed at the direction her thoughts had taken, she twisted her hair into something that resembled a chignon, wishing she’d brought her tried and tested smart black dress instead of this extravagant number that had no place in her life. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when she’d bought it. Glamour and sophistication weren’t in her genetic make-up.
She fastened the straps of her sandals, also part of her impulse buy, and with once last check in the mirror left her room. The walk back downstairs became more infused with anticipation each step she took.
What was the matter with her? She wasn’t going on a date. He wasn’t even her bucket list romantic fling. She was only joining him for dinner because the situation with the weather had left them alone here on New Year’s Eve.
What could be so wrong about that?
As she paused at the bottom of the stairs, absently taking in the Christmas tree, she had the strangest notion that going into the room where Xavier waited and spending the evening with him would change everything. How could a snowstorm and a dinner do that?
* * *
Primal stirrings of longing rushed through Xavier as he waited for Tilly—or Natalie, as he’d come to think of her. He enjoyed using her full name. But it was more than that. Something had burst to life between them since the moment he’d first seen her, standing in the snowy courtyard. Whatever that was, it had drawn him, lured him with the promise of things he wanted but knew he couldn’t have, and not just because she was hiding behind her job. He didn’t deserve such things.
He took a deep steadying breath and looked into the flames of the log fire he’d lit before changing. Natalie was different. She was the kind of woman who made a man instinctively want to offer protection. She evoked a need to cherish and love.
As that last thought drifted unbidden through his mind the door opened and she walked in, her cool demeanour so sophisticated he couldn’t believe she was the same bubbly person who’d arrived this morning. She looked absolutely stunning. The black silk of her dress caressed every curve of her body, but she was swathed in an aura that made her almost untouchable. Was that her defence against the attraction he knew she too felt?
‘Cosi bella.’ The Italian compliment left his lips before he’d realised he’d spoken, but it was the truth. She was beautiful.
The black silk of her dress emphasised her stunning figure and his gaze lingered on her bare shoulders, imagining what it would be like to press his lips against the creamy softness of her skin. She blushed beneath his scrutiny and looked away, confirming his suspicion of defensive barriers against the steadily growing attraction.
‘The fire looks inviting.’ She was obviously intent on taking his attention away from her and maybe that was for the best, but a hint of huskiness lingered in her voice, belying the composure she displayed. ‘I’ve always loved the idea of a real fire.’
‘Have you never spent an evening in front of the warmth of the flames with someone special?’ He reached for the bottle of champagne he’d put to cool and hoped the cold liquid would douse the heat burning within him as the image of the two of them doing just that came unbidden to his mind.
He popped the cork and she gave a startled little gasp, her eyes meeting his as she blushed. ‘No, I haven’t. Unless you count being in country pubs with friends.’
He handed her a flute of champagne, trying to beat down the irrational jealousy that filled him, thinking of her sitting in a cosy pub with another man. ‘And now you are forced to endure my company for the evening.’
‘Endure is a bit strong,’ she said quickly, as her slender fingers held the stem of the flute, her gaze meeting his boldly. ‘Enjoy is a far better word.’
He chinked his flute against hers. ‘Salute! To enjoyment.’
‘To enjoyment,’ she echoed his toast, a small and incredibly sexy smile playing about her lips. ‘And I’m sorry your plans for this evening, have gone wrong.’
‘I very much like the alternative.’ He raised his glass slightly in a silent toast to those changed plans. Her eyes darted from his, breaking the contact.
She laughed. A soft, seductive laugh that didn’t diffuse the tension, as he suspected she’d wanted it to. Instead it grew stronger, more intense. She moved away from him, away from the cream stone fireplace that must have seen many such moments over the generations.
‘You might want to reserve judgement, or even call off the whole evening. You wouldn’t be the first to do that.’ With the light-hearted warning lingering in the air, Tilly put down her flute of champagne and now that distance between them had been reinstated seemed content to make eye contact. ‘If you will excuse me for a moment, I will organise the first course.’
His first instinct was to offer to help, but after the potent exchange, loaded with pent-up passion, he needed space. If he closed his eyes, even for just a moment, he could imagine all this was real, that they were here out of choice. That not only did she want to spend the night in his bed, that he wouldn’t have to worry about the scars that had made casual nights of passion impossible since the accident.
He snapped his eyes open. Imagining such things was impossible. They could never be anything to each other—not yet at least.
* * *
Tilly returned to the lounge to see Xavier standing rigidly before the fire, his face a stern mask of irritation. Was that because he’d forgotten himself just now and flirted with her? Did he already regret offering to celebrate New Year’s Eve together?
‘Would you like to come through to the dining room?’ She injected as much professionalism as she could into those words, reminding herself that, no matter what had happened between them just now, she was still working—for him.
‘Bene.’ The word was a soft growl, an almost feral sound and his expression one of agitation, as he crossed the room.
She turned and walked towards the dining room, forgetting the daringly low cut of the back of her dress as she cursed the heels she’d once thought would be fun to wear. Now she knew her walk was slow and hoped he didn’t think she was flaunting herself in front of him. She couldn’t get to her chair fast enough.
‘Allow me.’ The hard tone of his voice spoke volumes about his annoyance at having to dine alone with her.
She must have imagined the undercurrent of sexual tension that had surrounded them after she’d arrived in the lounge. Maybe it was because she wanted this dark and dangerous attraction to him to become reality. As if putting on the dress, being here in this house with Xavier, was giving her a chance to be someone different, step away from her past and sample a world of complete fantasy for just one night.
A reckless thought raced through her mind about the romantic fling on her bucket list. Could this be the night? When she proved to herself she’d moved on from her almost wedding day? Denial careered into that wayward thought, stopping it abruptly.
She sat on her chair as he stood behind it for a moment longer. A tingle skipped down her spine and it was all she could do not to arch her back as the sensation speared warmth through her. It was as if he’d touched her, trailed his fingers down over her bare skin.
‘Thank you.’ She forced out the words and sat back against the chair, trying to stop the way her heart raced, its thumping rhythm so loud he must hear it.
‘Prego.’
Moments later Xavier sat opposite her at the festively decorated table. Candles glowed intimately and the pasta starter cooled as their gazes locked once more. What was happening to her? This new and overwhelming pull of attraction and heart-pounding desire was taking over.
He is your client. The words shouted inside her head.
‘I apologise for changing the menu a second time.’ Once she’d realised they would be eating alone she’d adapted the menu choices. Now she wished she hadn’t. Time away from his dark and powerful eyes was just what she needed—if she was to retain her usual composure.
He held her gaze for a moment longer, not saying a word, and she resisted the temptation to bite her bottom lip, the way she always did when she was anxious, in an attempt to stop herself saying silly things. Under no circumstances did she want this man to know he made her feel apprehensive. The air around them was hot and heavy, throbbing with intensity, as he finally began his food.
‘Delizioso.’ He nodded his approval and the anxiety that had been building in her all day began to slip away, enabling her to eat something at least.
As he finished his starter he sat back and looked at her, increasing her pulse rate again. ‘So tell me, Natalie. What is it you are hiding from this New Year’s Eve?’
The unexpected question nearly made her choke, but thankfully she managed to avoid that spectacle and met his gaze boldly, annoyed to see his brows lift, prompting her for an answer. She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip as expectancy stretched between them.
‘What makes you think I’m hiding from anything?’ She didn’t like the nervous wobble in her words. ‘I’m here, working.’
‘A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be alone on New Year’s Eve and definitely not working. I can’t believe you do not have at least one admirer who wants to share this evening with you.’ His deliciously accented words made her stomach flutter and for one crazy moment she imagined he was that admirer, that he wanted to be with her, instead of being forced into her company.
‘I wanted to work tonight.’ Her matter-of-fact words came so fluidly it was as if she’d rehearsed them. She’d used that excuse again and again in recent weeks as the party invitations had arrived. There was just one person who’d seen through it. Vanessa.
He smiled, one of satisfaction, but it still made him look deliciously handsome. ‘You are hiding, then.’
What would he say if he knew the truth? Would it kill whatever hummed between them? She certainly hoped so, because she was finding it ever more difficult not to notice the way her body felt each time he looked at her.
‘Not exactly. My fiancé called off our wedding exactly a year ago today.’ The sharp words hurtled out. Just bringing Jason into her mind cooled the effect Xavier was having on her.
He sat back in his chair, his fingers slowly turning the stem of the wine glass. ‘So you thought that working this year was preferable to partying?’
‘Something like that.’ She wished she hadn’t begun this conversation. In a bid to quell the tension, which was loaded with passion, she’d already said too much. ‘I’ll get the next course.’
Before he could say anything else she left the room, as gracefully and quickly as her heels allowed. In the kitchen she dished up the venison casserole and croquette potatoes that the wintery weather had inspired and forced down the pain of Jason’s betrayal.
Footsteps alerted her to Xavier’s presence and she pretended to be busy with the food, not wanting to look at him and see the same pity on his face that her friends and family bestowed on her. Pity she didn’t deserve, not when ultimately it had been her fault the wedding hadn’t happened. She’d just followed through from being school friends to fulfilling everyone’s expectations of marriage. Jason had been the only constant in her life, but for him, at least, it hadn’t been enough.
She heard Xavier put down the starter plates, but couldn’t acknowledge him yet, keeping resolutely turned away. He stopped directly behind her and her breathing deepened as her almost bare back tingled from his nearness and she vehemently wished she hadn’t changed out of her jeans and jumper.
‘Can I offer help?’ The husky note of his voice, to her dismay, made her shiver visibly. ‘You are cold.’
‘A little,’ she lied, as she turned to face him, alarmed at how close he was. ‘You hired me to cater for this dinner party and should not be helping.’
She picked up the hot dish of the main course with her waitressing cloth and left the kitchen, desperate to get away from the heat he’d surrounded her with. But if she’d thought things would be easier as they sat at the table again, she had been wrong. Their polite exchanges were merely a smokescreen for something much bigger.
‘Your fiancé, he was a fool.’ Xavier finished his meal and placed his napkin on the table, intently watching every move she made.
‘You can’t say that. You don’t know anything about him.’ Instinctively she protected Jason. It hadn’t been entirely Jason’s fault. He’d only been reacting to her inability to show him love. When her father had died her mother had sought solace with a new man and she had felt abandoned. All she’d wanted had been to feel special and Jason had done that, first as a friend, then as her boyfriend, but never as her lover.
‘That may be so, but I do know he was a fool to let a woman like you go.’ A light smile lifted his lips and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him. Instantly she dismissed the thought as totally unprofessional. It was so unlike her and guilt filled her for thinking it when the only man she’d kissed was Jason.
Again that item on her bucket list nudged to the forefront of her mind. It was so out of character for her that Vanessa had been shocked when she’d told her, but hadn’t let her forget the idea, adamant it was just what she needed. She’d reminded her of it earlier when she’d called her to say she was snowed in at the manor. Could this really be her chance to tick that off her list, to prove to herself she was over Jason, without getting her heart broken?
No. She was here professionally and wouldn’t jeopardise her business reputation for one night of excitement, however tempting Xavier might be.
* * *
Xavier sensed there was a lot more she wasn’t telling him. To be defending her ex-fiancé so strongly, she must still love him. But why love someone who’d hurt you, walking out on you when it had most counted?
He done exactly that to his long-term girlfriend when she’d left him literally hanging in the hospital, too disgusted to even sit with him. Carlotta had taken it so well he’d seriously questioned if she’d ever loved him and was relieved he’d resisted prompts from her and his family, before the accident, to make that final and permanent commitment. At least he hadn’t had to deal with a divorce as well as the knowledge he’d destroyed Paulo’s family.
Tilly stood up abruptly, dragging his thoughts back from those dark days, effectively ending the conversation. ‘Dessert?’
The husky tone of her voice pulled his thoughts back from those painful months after the accident. Painful not because Carlotta had shown her true shallow nature but because of the guilt that racked him every time he thought of the accident and the devastation it had caused.
He let his gaze travel down Tilly’s slender body, allowing her gorgeous figure to ground him and pull him back from that abyss. On her beautiful face was an expression of hesitancy, mixed with the composure she’d been fighting to retain all night.
A stab of hot lust shot through him. It wasn’t just the challenge she’d set before him, it was much more—and almost impossible to ignore.
He wanted her—more than he’d wanted any woman.
‘Let’s abandon this formality.’ The need to break out, to rebel against what was right, surged through him.
‘What do you mean?’ The shock in her voice was clear, her blue eyes wide with disbelief.
‘The fire in the lounge is so much more inviting, no?’
‘Yes, it is.’ She lowered her lashes, blocking him out, but even so her body called to his, beckoned him with the lure of desire.
‘Bene.’ He got up and moved around the table towards her. She met his gaze again, her gorgeous eyes wide and luminous, and he felt something squeeze tight around his chest. It had been a long time since a woman had affected him so potently.
Suddenly she moved away from him and began clearing the table. ‘I will see to this first.’ The matter-of-fact words cooled his ardour, reminding him she was not the kind of woman to have affairs, the kind who wanted just what at the moment he could offer. He had to remember he’d hired her for this evening’s dinner party, which in itself was an added complication.
Before he had time to process those thoughts properly she left the room, carrying things back to the kitchen. He picked up other items from the table and strode through to the kitchen where the bright lights subdued what had arced between them—and highlighted reality.
‘I have a few things to do then I will bring dessert through to the lounge.’ She turned and looked at him, the wariness in her eyes halting him in his tracks. She was warning him without words to keep away, telling him she didn’t want to pursue the attraction, and after what she’d just told him he’d be heartless to force her. She was still in love with another man, even though her body called to his. But ignoring her was proving difficult.
‘Allow me to help.’
‘No.’ The shock in that word startled him, and he looked at her in question. ‘No, thank you. This is my job, Signor Moretti, I’m not here to be wined and dined. I’m paid to be here—working.’
She was either putting them both firmly in their places or laying down an even bigger challenge. His pulse leapt at the thought, but he knew, deep down, it wasn’t that. She was right. Her brief story about last New Year’s Eve only confirmed she wanted more than a night of passion and an expensive parting gift. She wasn’t the kind of woman who sought such nights, she never would be. He couldn’t give a woman like Tilly what she wanted.
‘Very well,’ he said firmly. ‘But I expect you to join me in the lounge. I have no intention of welcoming in the New Year alone.’
‘But...’ She searched for more excuses.
‘You will join me,’ he said sternly, and she looked up at him and the expression on her face soothed his ruffled demeanour. She looked vulnerable and so very beautiful. ‘For just one glass of champagne. To toast in the New Year.’
