They were snowed in. He and Tilly were alone.

Xavier’s body still hummed after the exchange between them that morning. A carnal need so strong had filled him as he’d looked into her vivid blue eyes. He’d had to resist the urge to crush her to his body, to feel her against him and to kiss those seductively plump lips. Never before had he felt so untamed, so in danger of losing his renowned self-control.

Now, because of the weather, he was going to be forced to spend at least the next twenty-four hours with a woman he desired more than any other—one who’d made it known that she was unattainable, here to fulfil a contract and nothing more … a contract which expired at midnight.

He knew she wouldn’t be comfortable about being alone with him this evening. Not after that moment in the dining room. She was not his usual type of woman, more the ‘for ever’ sort, and that held him back. For ever was something he couldn’t do— which was another reason for not exploring what was between him and Tilly.

He took a deep breath, bringing all his wayward desires under control, determined to shake off his inconvenient desire and be the perfect gentleman— until midnight at least. He returned to the kitchen to break the news to the only woman in the last three years who had threatened to rouse the man he’d once been … the man he could never risk being again.

‘It appears we will be here alone for New Year.’

RACHAEL THOMAS has always loved reading romance and is thrilled to be a Modern author. She lives and works on a farm in Wales—a far cry from the glamour of a Mills & Boon Modern story—but that makes slipping into her characters’ world all the more appealing. When she’s not writing or working on the farm she enjoys photography and visiting historic castles and grand houses. Visit her at rachaelthomas.co.uk.

New Year at the

Boss’s Bidding

Rachael Thomas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To editors Laurie Johnson and Charlotte Mursell.

Thank you so much for your fantastic support, guidance and encouragement as I’ve moved from unpublished finalist in SYTYCW 2013 to this, my fifth book.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

TODAY NOTHING COULD dampen Tilly Rogers’s enthusiasm for the exciting contract she had landed. Tonight she would be catering for Xavier Moretti’s New Year’s Eve dinner party, a contract that was a much-needed boost to her new business.

The manor house he’d hired for the occasion, set on the edge of Exmoor, was proving difficult to find, but even that didn’t faze her. She was away from London and thankful that this New Year’s Eve would be very different from last year’s.

Tilly gripped the steering-wheel of her small white van a bit tighter as the light flurry of snow landing on the windscreen increased to a constant bombardment of small fluffy flakes. She must be almost at the manor by now. At the next turn in the road she was relieved to see a large set of wrought-iron gates loom ahead of her, but that relief soon faded.

The gates were firmly closed and she looked down the long drive. No sign of the manor house, but on one of the tall pillars ‘Wimble Manor’ was proudly announced. She was in the right place.

Judging by its grandeur, this must be the main entrance and from her brief conversation with the caretaker she knew that, as hired staff, she needed the back entrance. Slowly she pulled away, aware of the snow beginning to settle on the tarmac road ahead of her. Thank goodness she’d left London earlier than planned.

A little further along she saw a small gatehouse. A set of open gates nestled in the winter-bare hedgerows and she turned in, following a set of tyre tracks that were just still visible on the now white driveway. Someone else had just arrived, but it couldn’t be her staff, Katie and Jane. They weren’t due until later this afternoon, by which time she hoped it would have stopped snowing.

Cautiously she drove along the snow-covered lane, but couldn’t resist a glance around the grounds of the manor, which were turning, very quickly, into a winter wonderland. The narrow road led through a small wood, over an old stone bridge and on the other side, Tilly got the first sight of Wimble Manor.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ she said as she looked up at the imposing manor house. The snow, now blowing horizontally, gave it a mysterious air, filling her head with romantic notions of the house in its heyday. If only she had time to take a walk, but that was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Tonight’s contract was one she had to get right. As undisputed king of the motorcycle racetrack, who’d turned businessman and mentor for young riders, Xavier Moretti was her most high-profile client to date.

The email asking her to take on his New Year’s Eve dinner party had been a shock, to say the least. Not only was it just what her fledgling business needed, it was also what she needed on a personal level. It would provide her with a welcome distraction from dwelling on what had happened last New Year’s Eve and created the perfect excuse for not attending parties.

Although her best friend, Vanessa, had complicated things when she’d told her she planned to announce her engagement on New Year’s Day so she couldn’t completely escape the party scene. After last year, Vanessa had been anxious but Tilly had reassured her she was over it all now. She knew that whatever happened she would be at the party to prove this to herself as well as her friends. It would be part of reinventing herself, just as starting the business had been.

She dragged her mind away from thoughts of engagements and parties and focused on Xavier Moretti’s request for authentic Italian home cooking, something she really wanted to specialise in after the hours she’d spent in her Italian grandmother’s kitchen as a young girl. She smiled at the memories, determined to make this evening’s meal so special he and his guests would remember her name for a long time.

Thoughts of the menu she was going to present them filled her mind as she followed the narrow driveway around the side of the impressive house and into a courtyard. She noticed the tyre tracks also went this way and assumed it was the caretaker preparing for Xavier Moretti’s arrival. She hoped that wouldn’t be too soon. She had planned on having the morning to herself, giving plenty of time to prepare for the New Year’s Eve dinner.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t register that the tracks belonged to a sleek black sports car, now partly covered in snow. She parked alongside it and got out, totally in awe of her surroundings. She looked around the courtyard, her face upturned as she took in the grand house, not caring about the white flakes as they landed on her skin and settled in her red woolly hat.

She pulled her scarf higher around her neck and resisted the urge to cross the cobbled courtyard and see what was in the other buildings. There would be time enough for that later. She had a van to unload and a kitchen to set up. There was still a lot of work to do ahead of tonight’s dinner party and with a regretful sigh she turned then stopped, as if suddenly frozen by Mother Nature herself.

In the open doorway stood a man, so tall, handsome and self-assured she was certain, from the internet pictures she’d seen, it was Xavier Moretti. He watched her with an expression of confidence and, if she wasn’t mistaken, amusement. A hint of a smile lingered at the edges of his lips.

His dark hair lifted slightly in the wind, the odd white flake settling starkly against the midnight blackness of his hair before dissolving away. His tanned complexion looked totally out of place against the backdrop of England’s winter weather and she could hardly drag her gaze from him. He looked so exotic with a hint of wildness that she found strangely exciting.

Unused to being in the company of such a man, she struggled to regain control as she blushed, her stomach fluttering with what felt like excitement. On a newly discovered level, she knew it was more than that and fought hard to ignore it. She had to remain professional with this man, no matter what. This was the first time he’d hired Tilly’s Table for a dinner party and she needed more contracts like this to help her business grow, not to mention the validation his custom would give.

He had certainly dressed for the part of country gentleman. The dark grey sweater, over a blue shirt looked warm and casual. Alarmingly, she couldn’t quite stop her gaze sliding down his long jeans-clad legs. What was the matter with her? She’d never lusted after a man. Ever. Finally gathering her wayward reactions, she looked at his face, saw his stern dark eyes watchful.

‘Hi, I’m Tilly Rogers and here to cater for Mr Moretti’s dinner party this evening.’ His increased smile did little to help the fluttering feeling but confirmed her suspicions. This was Xavier Moretti.

‘Buongiorno. Xavier Moretti,’ he offered, his heavy accent making the words far sexier than she’d ever heard any man sound, and the Italian greeting nudged at memories. ‘I had not expected the pleasure of your company so early, Ms Rogers. Tell me, do you always find such joy in snow?’

A tingle of pleasure skittered down her spine, setting off alarm bells. What was happening to her?

‘It’s so nice to be out of London.’ She couldn’t keep the enthusiasm from her voice. ‘But I didn’t expect you to be here yet, Signor Moretti.’ She wouldn’t allow him to dampen her spirits—or spoil the plans she’d had of exploring once she’d finished her preparation.

‘Xavier, please.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘You should come in and get warm.’

‘I’m fine.’ She shook her head and smiled, trying to ignore the tingle that continued to zip down her spine at the deep sexy tones of his voice. ‘Besides, I have things to bring in so I can start work.’

He crossed the snow-dusted yard to hold the back door of the van open as she leant in to grab the first of several boxes. As he took the boxes from her, his fingers brushed hers. The sizzle that shot up her arm made her eyes widen and, unconsciously, she looked at him. The depths of his dark eyes held hers and for a moment it was as if time had stood still. As if nothing else in the entire world mattered.

Her heartbeat seemed to slow and just the simple task of breathing became difficult. His handsome face didn’t give anything away. He looked composed and controlled but still she couldn’t break whatever it was. All she wanted to do was look at his high chiselled cheekbones, as if doing so would allow her to commit them to memory before locking the image behind a door labelled Danger.

Why had she thought that? She was definitely out of her depth, but a man like him would never look twice at a woman like her. She averted her gaze, using the pretence of checking the contents of one of the boxes to divert his attention.

‘May I help?’ The three words held a hint of huskiness and to her dismay she blushed again, her stomach fluttering as he took the boxes inside. She watched him walk away, thankful she could think and breathe properly again.

She pulled more boxes from the back of the van and followed him into the house. ‘I hope this snow stops,’ she said as she walked into the kitchen, where Xavier was stacking her things on a large table. She needed normal conversation to settle herself. How could he unbalance her so quickly?

‘Sì. But you are here at least. It would have been a shame not to sample your food, especially as it has come so highly recommended.’

Tilly blushed, this time because she didn’t know how to deal with such a direct compliment, or was it guilt at having those wildly improper thoughts about him just moments ago?

To cover her embarrassment, she put her boxes down and turned to survey the massive kitchen. From the stainless-steel pans hanging above the range to the copper moulds mounted on the walls it managed to combine perfectly the charm of past with the needs of the twenty-first century.

‘This place is amazing. I’m really looking forward to working in such a grand kitchen.’ Her enthusiasm for the old house couldn’t be subdued and for a moment he watched her, coolly assessing her and everything she did.

Tilly scanned the high-ceilinged room, wishing she had a kitchen like this to work in for every job she took on. Sleek, modern kitchens, packed full with every gadget, were what she was normally provided with, but this room, with history breathing from its walls, practically filled her criteria for a perfect workplace.

‘Si, è bello,’ he said, as she turned her attention back to Xavier.

Did he have to keep using sexy snippets of Italian? It tugged at bittersweet memories of happy times she’d spent in a small cottage kitchen in Tuscany, where herbs had dried in abundance and the warmth of the sun had seemed to shine constantly.

When she went back to her van, the flurry of snow she’d arrived in had dwindled to almost nothing. Only the odd rogue snowflake whirled to the ground. At least that was one thing less to worry about.

As she leaned into the van she moved aside the dress she’d bought for Vanessa’s engagement party tomorrow. Her heart hadn’t been in that task, but she didn’t want her past to spoil her friend’s happiness. She paused and touched the black dress through the plastic cover, remembering the wedding dress she should have worn exactly a year ago. The conversation she’d had as it had hung on her wardrobe door filtered unwittingly back from the past. The firmness of Jason’s voice still reached her as he’d told her he needed much more than just friendship, urging her to go out and experience life—just as he planned to do.

Pain and humiliation rushed through her. She couldn’t do this now. Looking back wouldn’t help. With a sigh, she pulled the last of her boxes towards her and turned to see Xavier come out of the house, his expression serious as he looked up at the heavy grey sky, before swiftly returning his attention to her.

‘Please, allow me,’ he said, as she tried to close the back of her van as well as balance the boxes.

‘Thank you.’ Shyness crept over her again. She didn’t like the way he managed to fluster her or the sensation as his fingers innocently brushed over hers.

‘Prego.’

There it was again, that undeniably sexy voice speaking in a language she’d known as a child, when her grandmother had shared all her cooking secrets with her, unwittingly sealing Tilly’s future career.

Tilly shut the van doors, leaving her overnight bag and dress inside, determined she would be at her friend’s engagement party tomorrow. Especially when Vanessa had been so supportive last New Year’s Eve—the day her world had fallen apart. She couldn’t deny her friend happiness, even if it opened up the agony of what should have been her wedding day. A year ago today had been the day her engagement had ended—the day her childhood sweetheart had said he no longer wanted to marry her.

Irritated that memories of last year could still hurt, she made her way back to the kitchen. Xavier was standing against the range cooker, looking so relaxed he might as well have been in his own home and not an English country house he’d hired for the occasion. She placed the final box on the kitchen table, aware of his dark gaze watching her every move, feeling it with every sizzle that sparked down her spine.

* * *

Xavier leant against the warmth of the range, which reminded him of his childhood home, and watched as Tilly unfurled her scarf and pulled off her hat. Her thick blonde hair looked ruffled, stirring visions of her in his bed after a passionate night. This unexpected thought raced through his mind all too clearly, sending a stab of lust through him.

The instant attraction he felt for her was inconvenient. He’d hired her company for his New Year’s Eve dinner after she’d been recommended, but not once had he considered that he’d find the owner of Tilly’s Table so attractive.

It must be this house, being in a different environment, one so similar to the warm and loving environment he’d grown up in. It was giving rein to inappropriate thoughts of the owner of Tilly’s Table. She was attractive but completely unaffected by it—a totally refreshing concept for him. Being in this house with such a down-to-earth woman, a woman who’d want a forever kind of love, reminded him his eventual aim had been to settle down and be happy. But that was no longer possible. The accident three years ago had slashed those hopes.

‘Would you like coffee?’ Her sweet voice, which he couldn’t help but notice sometimes held a hint of mischief, dragged his thoughts back to where they should be. As did the reminder that his parents, his cousin and her husband would soon be here.

At least they would keep his mind on the enforced New Year celebrations, although he still found it hard to accept they had coerced him into it. He knew they were upset and worried that he hadn’t celebrated Christmas with them for the last few years, but it was a time of year he now hated.

Tilly pulled off her puffy black coat, revealing her slender figure encased in tight jeans and equally well-fitted black roll neck jumper. They showed every curve to perfection, dragging him from dwelling on the past and back to that unprompted vision of her in his bed.

‘Grazie,’ he replied, as he fought with the maelstrom of emotions that scenario provoked.

What was the matter with him? He wasn’t usually this easily distracted by a woman. His attention had been caught by Tilly Rogers that first second he’d seen her. What man wouldn’t be attracted to such a beautiful woman? But he’d never been this aware of a woman within minutes of meeting. He’d never seen his now-futile hopes of happiness dangled before him so temptingly.

Already he knew she was a breath of fresh air, compared to the usual women who lived in the circles he was now moving in since arriving in London. Beneath Tilly’s smiles and laughter he sensed a vulnerability that echoed his, calling to him and drawing him inexplicably towards her.

She’d clearly set the boundaries—professional boundaries—addressing him by his surname, but he couldn’t help wishing they had met in another way. Or was it his rebellious nature, wanting what was so obviously denied him? Whichever it was, he wanted more, something he found hard to deal with.

Belatedly he realised it wouldn’t make any difference. He would have needed to have met her before the accident. No woman, not even a warm and genuine woman like Tilly Rogers, would want to be involved with him now, not once the truth came out. The scars on his legs were a constant reminder that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that he was the one with ideas above his station, which was exactly why he hadn’t done anything more than have dinner or go to a party with a woman for the last three years.

He sensed her watching him as he walked towards the kitchen windows and looked out into the courtyard. Why did he suddenly want things that were no longer possible? Things Carlotta’s reaction had forced him to deny himself? He’d seen her look of revulsion after the accident, had known she’d blamed him, and had ended it right there and then, guilt making anything else impossible. He didn’t deserve happiness after what he’d done.

‘I forgot some files,’ she said lightly, and reached to pull her keys from the pocket of the coat she’d laid over the back of a kitchen chair. ‘I’ll fetch them now.’

He watched her walk to the back door, her boot heels tapping a gentle rhythm on the tiled floor. The sway of her hips mesmerised him as if he were a teenager who’d just discovered the delights of women. He shook the haze of desire away and went to the back door to assess the weather.

He hoped it would stop snowing soon, aware his family would be convinced he’d purposely hired such a remote venue in the hope it would snow, releasing him from entering into the spirit of the season for yet another year. If he was honest with himself, escaping such gatherings was why he’d remained in England, extending his scholarship programme instead of going back to Milan and concentrating on his motorbike factory.

Tilly turned and smiled, her eyes sparkling. ‘It’s a shame the snow has stopped. I was hoping to see the countryside covered in a white blanket.’

He looked up at the heavy grey clouds that held the promise of more snow. ‘You may yet get your wish.’ He would then escape the torture of celebrating New Year’s Eve, of pretending everything was normal, when it never would be again.

‘Do you think so? It’s not forecast,’ she said, as she unlocked her van and lifted out a red file, the innocent excitement in her voice made him laugh gently. ‘I haven’t seen real snow for so long, only icing-sugar dustings. There was nothing when I left London.’

‘I grew up in the hills of northern Italy, where snow is a regular feature of winter. I think we will see more snow today, the sky is heavy with it.’ If they had been in his home in Italy, they would most certainly be snowbound, a thought that served only to heighten his awareness of her.

‘That would be fun, but only after your guests have arrived.’ She laughed lightly as she reached into her van again. He gritted his teeth—hard, catching a glimpse of creamy flesh as her jumper rose up. He really must stop thinking of her like this. Just when he’d thought he couldn’t take any more she straightened and arranged the files in her arms, but didn’t seem able to meet his gaze. Did she feel it too? This sizzle of attraction? Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

‘I have work to do and I’m sure you do too.’ If he didn’t remove himself from her company, he might be tempted to breach the boundaries of professionalism before she’d been here for more than an hour. The urge to take her in his arms and kiss her was completely overwhelming and something he hadn’t thought of with any of his recent dates. ‘I will show you the dining room and lounge first.’

Feeling like an ill-tempered bear who had been woken from his winter sleep, he stalked back into the house, aware Tilly was following. His footsteps sounded fierce on the tiled floor as he made his way to the main hall and staircase. Her gasp of pleasure drew him up sharply as he reached the stairs and he turned to look at her, pressing his lips firmly together in discontent as she looked around the large hallway, which showcased the Christmas tree he’d expressly asked to be removed before his guests arrived. Its decorated branches were yet another reminder of what he no longer deserved.

‘This is so beautiful.’ Clutching her files against her, she walked slowly towards the bottom of the wide staircase, where he stood. She stopped and looked around her at the magnificence of the main entrance of the manor. ‘And this tree, it’s just gorgeous. I always wanted a tree like this when I was young. Something grand and tall, but of course it never happened.’

The laughter in her voice held a hint of sadness and abruptly she stopped talking. Had his reaction to the mention of Christmas been that severe?

‘Yes, the tree.’ He gritted his teeth again, feeling even more like a grumpy bear, trying to ignore the longing in her voice. ‘I did ask for it to be taken down before I arrived.’

‘Take it down. Why? It’s Christmas.’ The shock in her voice was crystal clear but, then, she didn’t understand that he no longer indulged in sentiments like that.

‘It was Christmas.’ The words were growled out as he pushed back emotions he still couldn’t deal with. How could anyone come to terms with the knowledge that they’d caused an accident that had taken the life of a friend? His recklessness that day on the track had wrecked one family’s Christmas for ever, depriving young children of their father.

She shook her head. Fast little shakes that made her hair move and glisten like gold beneath the hall lights. ‘Christmas hasn’t finished yet and you are celebrating New Year here.’

‘I’m entertaining my family. Nothing more.’ He didn’t want to take this any further and turned towards the dining room, leaving her little choice but to follow. She’d only been here a short time and already she was disturbing the inner peace he’d thought he was finally beginning to achieve, threatening to open up wounds that had only just started to heal.

‘This is where I will entertain my guests this evening.’ He stood back as she entered the large and stately room, the long table capable of seating at least ten people taking centre stage.

She stood quietly next to him but he could tell she was desperate to walk around the room, touch the old furnishings and feel the ambiance of the place. He stifled a smile as she took out her notepad and pen, using the cover of efficiency to hide that fact.

‘It’s a very big table. How would you like it set for this evening’s dinner? At one end, perhaps closest to the fireplace?’ She looked up at him and he felt as if he’d been caught out as his study of her had been blatant. For a moment her eyes searched his, questions lingering in hers, and a flush of heat coloured her cheeks, something he found quite endearing.

‘Sì, by the fire is good.’ He moved away from her and the temptation she represented, but he couldn’t stop watching her.

As she wrote down notes, he enjoyed the way her hand moved fluidly across the page. With her head bent, her blonde hair slid off her shoulder, forming a curtain of gold. He itched to reach out and push it back, wanting to see the concentration on her face, to feel it with the stroke of his hand across her skin.

She looked up at him suddenly, her eyes locking with his, and questions surfaced once again in the summer sky blue of hers. ‘And the champagne? Perhaps here would be best?’ She moved further away from him and he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d held onto. He had to stop this.

Her footsteps were muffled on the carpet as he watched her walk towards the ornate sideboard, stopping to make further notes. Then she moved to the tall windows, her air of professionalism momentarily forgotten as an almost childlike joy shone from her. ‘It’s snowing again.’

Thankful for the distraction, he crossed the room to join her. As he stood behind her he realised just how small and delicate she was and a powerful urge to protect her washed over him.

He looked down at her at the exact moment she turned to look up at him. The warm blue of her eyes, which instantly reminded him of the Mediterranean Sea, drew him closer to her. He could smell her perfume, dusky roses, as it weaved around him, invading every part of him. The urge to lower his head and feel her full lips against his was so strong that he could actually taste her.

‘I had better get started.’ She ducked away from him, leaving him looking out at the view. What had just happened? He’d nearly lost control, nearly allowed himself to imagine things that were no longer possible. He hadn’t been the same man after the accident and he had no right to want any woman, especially this bubbly blonde—not in any way.

He couldn’t risk hurting anyone else.

* * *

Tilly’s heart pounded so hard she was sure it must be echoing all around the old house. For a brief moment she’d seen raw desire in Xavier’s eyes and had been convinced he was about to kiss her. No, that couldn’t be possible. An attractive and successful man would only look past her, but she couldn’t shake the thought of him kissing her. Worse than that, she’d wanted him to. The heady longing that had engulfed her so rapidly still hummed inside her, shocking her with its intensity. She’d never felt anything like this before. Was this what Jason had wanted from her when in her innocence she’d thought she could keep him as a friend?

She almost groaned aloud. She didn’t want to think of Jason and what had happened last New Year’s Eve. She’d left London to avoid doing that. Now Xavier Moretti, with his dark and brooding attitude, which called to her on a level she hadn’t known existed, opened all those memories up again for further scrutiny.

‘I have made slight amendments to your menu requests,’ she said officiously, desperate to regain control. She took in a somewhat ragged breath, trying to find her normal well-balanced sense of what was right and wrong. And wanting this man to kiss her was wrong. Very wrong.

‘So long as it still remains mostly Italian, as I requested.’ He strode across the room and she moved back away from him until she stood against the ornately carved chair at the head of the dining table, its solidness grounding her.

‘I spent some of my early childhood in Tuscany with my grandmother. It’s where my love of food and cooking came from, so I can assure you your menu will remain true to Italy.’

He stopped and looked directly into her eyes, his brows raised in question. Or was that shock? ‘Your grandmother is Italian?’

‘Yes,’ she said, unashamedly proud of her heritage. ‘She named me Natalie because I was born on Christmas Eve. My mother, however, preferred Tilly so it was only ever Nonna who used my full name.’

‘Your surname is not Italian.’ His accent had become more pronounced, but his tone was firm and controlled.

‘No, my grandmother married an Englishman, which divided the family, and my father was the only child of that love match. Then he married my mother, an Englishwoman, and they moved to London.’ She began to explain, then realised he probably wasn’t interested and that she’d better concentrate on work, instead of divulging her family history.

He took a step towards her and instinctively she moved back, pressing herself more firmly against the back of the chair, wishing he would leave and give her space to think, room to breathe. The effect he was having on her was unlike anything she’d ever known.

‘In that case, I am looking forward to seeing your changes.’ His accented voice had a deep sensual undertone, which only intensified the flutter of attraction she was finding hard to ignore.

‘Thank you, I’m sure you will be more than pleased with them,’ Tilly rambled, still confused by the way her body reacted each time he spoke or looked at her from those sexy black eyes. It certainly wasn’t professional but it made her feel alive.

He continued in fluid Italian and she blinked in shock. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as the usual sadness washed over her. ‘I don’t remember much of the language. Nonna died when I was only thirteen. My mother is English and although we did use Italian in the home, it wasn’t very often.’

Sometimes she thought she must remember all those conversations with Nonna, that deep inside her they were waiting to come out. She just wasn’t ready for that to happen yet, because that would mean going through all the heartache and loneliness she’d experienced since her father had died. She could see now that Jason had helped her even before their childhood friendship had moved towards engagement. He’d filled the large void in her life—until he’d found someone else.

Xavier shrugged in that sexy devil-may-care way he’d done as she’d stood in the courtyard and her heart rate began to accelerate once more. ‘It is sad, no? When you have Italian ancestors.’

‘Maybe one day I’ll take Italian classes, or even go to Italy,’ she said lightly, wanting to move on from this discussion. It made her think of Jason, their broken engagement and the vows she’d made to herself that day. That had been the beginning of her bucket list. Things to do since she was no longer part of a couple. So far she’d only ticked off one, to start up her business and to provide for herself. The remainder, including finding her father’s family, still called to her.

‘Sì, you should do that.’ He moved to the door and turned to look at her, his tall body framed by the dark wood surround. ‘You shouldn’t deny your past.’

‘My past?’ What did he know of her past? She’d always made sure her private life never crossed into her business. She didn’t want people knowing about Jason jilting her hours before their wedding. It left her feeling vulnerable and she’d had enough of other people’s pity.

‘Your Italian ancestry.’ He frowned and she realised her immediate leap to defensive mode had alerted him to something he hadn’t even been aware of.

‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said, and pushed her body away from the chair and walked towards him as he stood in the doorway. ‘I will go to Italy one day.’ It was on her bucket list after all.

He nodded his approval at what she hoped was a light-hearted comment and moved to leave the room. ‘I have work to do before this evening and I’m sure you have things you need to do but, please, feel free to make yourself at home here.’

‘Thank you, I will.’ Shyness swept over her and she lowered her lashes. The thought of making herself at home here, as if she were a guest, made all sorts of improper images rush through her mind. She looked back up at him and blushed. His handsome face was stern and etched with control. It was hard to believe that only moments ago she’d thought he might kiss her. Or had that just been her fanciful imagination?

‘Mi scusi, Natalie.’

Before she had time to remind him nobody had ever called her Natalie, except her grandmother, he was gone. She could hear him striding back through the hall at a fast pace, obviously wanting to relinquish any responsibility to her.

‘Grazie, Xavier,’ she whispered to the emptiness of the room, enjoying the feeling of Italian on her tongue. Then she shook her head vigorously against the longing to be kissed his look had ignited in her. Silly girl, don’t even go there. He hadn’t been about to kiss you.

From what little she knew of him from the internet she guessed he would be a playboy, a man who never dated a woman twice. He was not what she wanted. She wanted to be loved and cherished and to find her happy-ever-after. He was her client—nothing more.

But still her mind wandered back to the sexy Italian who’d just stalked out of the room. She looked at her watch, hoping that soon her staff and his guests would arrive. She wouldn’t have any time for improper thoughts then.

She forced her mind back to the job she was here for and the preparations still to be made. The sooner she got them started the sooner she could finish and leave for the bed and breakfast she’d booked. Tomorrow she would go to Vanessa’s family home, to a party that would test her ability to have moved on from last year.

She couldn’t allow herself to become distracted by Xavier Moretti. He was not what she needed, no matter how charming and handsome he was.

CHAPTER TWO

TILLY DIDN’T DARE leave the dining room and wondered what had just happened. She lingered, hoping that he would have gone to do his work if she stayed for a while. She made more notes and plans for the dinner party and tried not to remember the moment she’d thought he was going to kiss her. It had terrified and excited her all at the same time.

Xavier Moretti was typical of men with wealth and power, using them to get what he wanted. But he had the added advantage of more sex appeal than was necessary. He must be used to just about every female he came across falling at his feet. She knew he was toying with her, flirting and using his charm just because he could, but she wouldn’t succumb, she’d had enough hurt recently. But somewhere deep inside she was unnerved to realise she wanted to.

With this thought foremost in her mind, she knew she couldn’t hide away and made her way back in to the hall and towards the kitchen, smiling as she passed the Christmas tree. Whatever Xavier Moretti’s problem was with it, she loved its bright cheerfulness. Moments before she entered the kitchen the smell of fresh coffee alerted her to Xavier’s presence.

He was stood against the range cooker, looking disturbingly sexy. Or was that just the aftermath of her daydreams?

‘Problems?’ His dark eyes seemed to mock her thoughts, as if he knew she’d spent the last half an hour longing to know how it would feel to be kissed by him.

‘No,’ she replied, deciding that if she got straight to work he would probably leave. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘You are not disturbing me, cara. I was just making coffee.’ His accent, together with the term of endearment, sent a tingle of awareness zipping through her and she grappled for something neutral to focus her mind on.

‘It’s still snowing.’ The delight at the prospect of snow was now beginning to be replaced by unease, scrambling her thoughts. Or was it just being in Xavier’s company?

‘Sì,’ he said, his attention focused firmly on her, unsettling her as she opened her folder with the itinerary of all she needed to do ahead of this evening. ‘But I’m sure the roads are clear. It looks worse than it is, with nothing but parkland surrounding us.’

‘I certainly hope so,’ she said quickly, trying to quell her panic over his mention of clear roads, something she hadn’t considered when wrapped up in her newly created fantasy world. ‘I have two members of staff due to arrive from London in a few hours.’

He didn’t reply, but the heavy look in his dark eyes as he studied her left her in no doubt he’d heard her. She looked down at the pages in her folder, trying to make sense of the words, which seemed to dance on the page as her heart thumped hard. What was the matter with her? She’d never behaved like this over a man but, then, Jason and his calm, safe presence in her life was all she’d known. Since her early teens they’d been inseparable.

The fizzing excitement as Xavier’s gaze met hers was something she and Jason had never shared. Could the lack of such intensity have been his reason for calling a halt to the wedding?

She still recalled the painful blow of his words as he’d told her he didn’t love her, that he couldn’t marry her because of a brief affair. One that had made him realise there was more to life than waiting for her to be ready, and in a moment of daring rebellion she’d added romantic fling to her bucket list. Not only that, she’d told Vanessa, who constantly reminded her of it.

Now Xavier had made her examine things she’d finally begun to move on from. Angry he even had that power, she began opening cupboards, lifting out the pans and bowls she needed to start preparing tonight’s meal. Now was not the time to think of Jason and it certainly wasn’t the time to think of Xavier—in any way except as her client. It wasn’t as if she was about to have that romantic fling with him.

‘I’m positive they will arrive.’ She glanced at him, the hint of amusement in his voice catching her attention. ‘Just as I am sure my guests will also arrive. If we were at my home in the Italian mountains I would say that we are almost certainly destined to spend at least the next few days alone here.’

Romantic images of his home in Italy, mountains covered in snow, and spending time in front of roaring open fires with a particular sexy Italian rushed into her mind. ‘Thankfully we are not in Italy,’ she snapped, annoyed with herself for allowing such thoughts to manifest themselves so rapidly and vividly.

He laughed. A low slumberous sound that sent her pulse into overdrive. He dominated the kitchen, despite the capacious amount of space within the room.

‘So the idea of being alone together doesn’t appeal to you, cara?’ His accent had become heavier as he looked at her intently, his eyes so black they resembled a starless night sky.

‘It’s not something I’ve considered,’ she replied in a brisk matter-of-fact tone, and began to empty some of her boxes. She tried had to not think about it, not when there was danger is such thoughts. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.’

* * *

Xavier watched as Tilly arranged her things on the table with careful attention to detail. He couldn’t help but smile. She had considered the thought of being here alone with him. Just as he had. He’d surprised himself by wishing they were at his home in the mountains, where once the snow started it would build up quickly, rendering them snowbound.

Rational thoughts kicked back in. If they were alone, truly alone, he wasn’t sure he could ignore the attraction, which very definitely existed between them. Not to mention that time alone with her would inevitably mean she would learn too much about him.

His guilt and anguish about the accident would soon become evident and that was something he went to great lengths to conceal—even from himself. He hadn’t spent one night with a woman since he’d banished Carlotta from his life the day after the accident. So why was the idea of being with Tilly becoming so appealing?

He looked up at the large clock on the kitchen wall. Just four more hours until his family arrived. He resented that they’d come all the way from Italy, forcing him to host the evening, challenging him to be the man he’d been before the accident. If it had been anyone else other than his parents suggesting they spend New Year’s Eve celebrating, he’d have said no.

At least once they were here he would be safe from the temptation of this bright and bubbly blonde, the first woman who had tempted him since the accident.

‘When do you expect your staff to arrive?’ He hoped it was soon, because right now he wanted to kiss her, just as he’d wanted to in the dining room. He still couldn’t comprehend that within less than an hour of her arrival he’d been forced to hold back the need to feel her lips beneath his.

That sort of loss of control was not him. He was calm and precise in all he did, paying attention to every small detail. He knew well enough exactly what one moment of recklessness could do. To want to kiss this woman was irresponsible in every sense of the word, but he liked to get what he wanted—and right now that was Natalie Rogers.

She glanced at the clock, then back at him. ‘They should be here just after lunch.’

‘Va bene,’ he replied, as he moved towards the table and closer to Tilly, unexplainably drawn to her. She looked warily at him, reinforcing the boundaries she’d already subtly laid down. So why did he want to challenge and test them?

All he needed to do was avoid the kitchen until her staff arrived. If he locked himself away in the small lounge he’d chosen as his study he could finish the reports he’d brought with him and avoid giving in to the primal call this woman was making to him. It was something he’d never known before and adrenalin flowed through him, making him feel alive and powerful. Exactly the way he’d always felt sitting astride his bike at the beginning of a race, when the desire to win had been all that had mattered.

Not that he’d ever race again. Those days were over—finished by an accident which lingered in his mind by day and haunted his dreams by night. Instead he’d increased production at his bike factory in Milan and set up a scholarship school, touring Europe in the hope of teaching young riders to race safely.

His heart thumped and in his head unbidden memories lurked, threatening to overwhelm him. He leant on the back of a chair, waiting for the pain in his legs to pass, a constant reminder of the months he’d spent in hospital after the crash. He gritted his teeth against his anger.

For the last year he’d been free of moments like this—at least during the day. He knew exactly why it was happening again. Because it was Christmas. The time of year he thought of a family missing that one special person—the rider he’d brought down by his reckless riding. His friend, damn it.

A warm hand touched his arm. The feel of it through his shirt and cashmere sweater brought him back from the edge of the guilt-filled hole he’d been looking into, which had been threatening to drag him back into its hellish depths.

‘Are you okay?’ Tilly’s soft voice, full of concern, hauled him back the rest of the way. He lifted his head and looked directly into her eyes, which were as blue as the sea on a summer day.

‘Sì,’ he growled and pushed back from the chair, severing the contact of her touch. He didn’t deserve her sympathy. He didn’t need her soft touch and concern. If she knew the truth, knew all the damning facts about the accident, she wouldn’t be so quick to offer her compassion.

He sensed her draw back. Saw her step away, anxiously catching her bottom lip with her teeth, but still the anger and guilt he’d carried since the accident raged inside him. Tilly was doing exactly what Carlotta had done the first day she’d visited him in hospital—backing away in disgust. Carlotta had despised him because of what had happened. The unwritten message in her face had fuelled his guilt and anger.

‘Are you sure?’ Tilly’s voice, hesitant and gentle, cracked the bubble of agony he was in, but anger at the vulnerability she’d exposed remained, tormenting and weakening him.

‘Of course I’m sure.’ The harsh words snapped from him ungraciously. He needed to get the hell out of here, before her concern tipped him over the edge and he submitted to the urge to confide in her about the guilt he’d carried alone for the last three years.

She didn’t say anything but returned to her unpacking, apparently unfazed by his display of anger. She hadn’t deserved that. He should apologise, but afraid that would make her question him further he stalked from the kitchen adamant he would remain out of Tilly’s way for as long as possible.

Those painful memories began to subside, until he walked past the Christmas tree. He couldn’t acknowledge Christmas, not any more, which was why he’d insisted the tree be removed.

All it represented to him was three fatherless children facing another Christmas. His selfish desire to win had done that. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been the only rider not to change tyres, not to heed the warnings of the wet track. None of that mattered, not when he thought of those children. Paulo’s children.

With a heavy sigh he walked on towards the lounge he’d commandeered for the duration of his stay. Once the door was shut he allowed himself to give in to the guilt-laden memories of the day he’d smashed just about every bone in his legs and taken out his friend in the process.

He sat at the desk and turned on his laptop. Would he ever be rid of the horror of that day? Would the guilt that he’d survived ever lessen? He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, refusing to let memories claim him.

When he opened them again he looked out of the old windows at the grey sky, each pane of glass forming a frame for the large flakes of snow that now fell in a swirling dance past the window. The quiet peaceful scene soothed him and eased the physical pain, reminding him of his happy childhood.

* * *

Tilly had worked frantically for the last hour or so, anxious she hadn’t discussed fully the menu changes with Xavier that morning as planned, but his sudden change of mood had made it impossible. At one time he’d looked as if he’d been in terrible pain and instinctively she’d gone to him, only to have her concern hurled unceremoniously back at her.

Now more pressing issues dominated her thoughts. Where were Katie and Jane? They should have been here by now. Tilly walked to one of the three tall sash windows of the kitchen and looked out. Big flakes of snow were falling against the backdrop of a heavy grey sky. Not good. What if they couldn’t get to Wimble Manor? How would she cope tonight on her own?

She grabbed her coat from the chair she’d left it on earlier and went through the passage to the back door. The heavy wooden door protested as she pulled it open and snow whirled in with a rush of cold air.

‘Oh, my goodness.’

Her little white van and Xavier’s sleek black car were nestled beneath a deep blanket of snow. The courtyard cobbles, which this morning had only been dusted with white, were now completely covered. A strange and heavy silence hung around the buildings as the flakes fell thick and fast. It should be peaceful and calming, yet the silence seemed to scream at her, as if warning of trouble.

‘I don’t think you should try going anywhere right now.’ Xavier’s accented voice broke through her turmoil and she spun round to look up at him.

‘I hadn’t planned to, but I do need my staff to be able to get here.’ Panic returned as she wondered how she was going to manage without the girls. They’d become a practised team and had worked for her since she’d started Tilly’s Table almost twelve months ago.

‘Have you heard anything from them?’

‘No, I’ll check my phone.’ Her words were sharp with exasperation at herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? She’d seen the snow flurrying past the windows but had been too caught up in the excitement of preparing the meal—and avoiding the man who disturbed her equilibrium.

Irritated by his practical approach, she moved past him, back along the passage and into the kitchen. Unable to quell her panic, she lifted her paperwork and uncovered her mobile phone to see she’d missed Katie’s call. With ominous dread settling as fast as the falling snow, she dialled into her messages and heard Katie’s anxious voice explaining the roads were so bad they’d had to turn back.

Now what was she going to do? A five-course meal for Xavier and four guests was scheduled for this evening. She would have to be preparing and serving.

But what if nobody could get here?

‘They had to turn back,’ she said slowly, panic making her heart thump as he joined her in the kitchen. ‘There was lots of snow, even around London, but it became worse the further out they got.’

Spurred into action, she tapped in a text to Katie, asking they let her know when they were back safely and not to worry about her. She was safe and warm at Wimble Manor. Xavier looked across the room at her and she wondered at the truth of that statement. She’d thought he’d been about to kiss her only a few hours ago and she had wanted him to. How safe was that?

‘I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to give you and your guests the meal I’d planned,’ she said firmly, resisting the urge to panic.

‘Because you do not have staff to help?’ The hint of humour in his voice snared her attention and she looked at him. The aggressive edge she’d seen earlier that morning had gone. The anger, which had given him a feral fierceness, smoothed away.

‘I don’t have any staff to serve. I had hoped to be able to concentrate on presenting the best meal possible.’ She averted her gaze from his dark eyes and flicked through her folder. She would have to find ways to make it simpler but still remain a meal people would remember. What she presented this evening would be the shop window of her new business.

‘And what if my guests are also unable to drive through the snow?’ He leant on the table and looked at her as she bent over her files. His eyes locked with hers as she looked up and again that unnerving sizzle shot between them. Instantly she stood upright and backed away a step from the table.

‘You mean nobody is coming?’ Tilly froze and looked at him. They would be alone. Just the two of them?

‘I haven’t been able to contact them yet,’ he said, almost too calmly.

‘I think I’d better carry on. Just in case they can make it.’ She spoke more for her benefit than Xavier’s and began to make sure all the ingredients for dessert were ready.

As she did so, she felt his gaze on her and tried hard to ignore the spark of awareness rushing around her, tingling on her skin as if he’d touched her. He was her client. She couldn’t and shouldn’t be thinking of him like this. He turned his attention to making coffee and relief soothed the tremor of awareness he’d sparked.

Besides, he was so far out of her league it was laughable. He wouldn’t be remotely interested in her and after Jason’s sudden change of heart last year she really didn’t want to get mixed up with another man, especially not one who ignited something unknown and passionate inside her. He definitely gave off warning vibes of danger.

Xavier placed a hot cup of expresso on the table in front of her and she looked up at him, unable to believe her train of thought. How had she not noticed this morning that he’d looked so dangerous, so wild and untamed? His slightly too-long hair wasn’t as neatly combed back as it could be and his eyes were so black they sparked.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice had turned into a husky whisper and she wanted to look away from his intense eyes, but she couldn’t. Her heart began to race and she was thankful that the table was between them, preventing her from moving towards him, from acting out the need to feel his lips pressed firmly against hers in a kiss so passionate it would take her breath away.

Where had that thought come from?

‘Prego.’ That one word sounded sinfully sexy and she dragged in a deep and calming breath. Just when she thought she couldn’t stay beneath his hot gaze any longer he turned and walked away, leaving her so deflated she flopped down onto the nearest chair.

She listened to his fading footsteps, trying to calm the erratic thud of her heart. What the heck had just happened? Whatever had passed between them in those few seconds had not only been hot, passionate and explosive, it had also been wild and dangerous.

* * *

Xavier ended the call he’d just received and looked out of the window. Snow was still falling. Big thick flakes twisting with increased speed down to earth, building upon what lay on the ground after this morning’s dusting. Neither his guests nor Tilly’s staff could get to the manor and they certainly wouldn’t be able to get out.

They were snowed in.

He and Tilly were alone.

His body still hummed after the exchange between them that morning. A carnal need so strong had filled him as he’d looked into her vivid blue eyes. He’d had to resist the urge to crush her to his body, to feel her against him and to kiss those seductively plump lips. Never before had he felt so untamed, so in danger of losing his renowned self-control.

Now, because of the weather, he was going to be forced to spend at least the next twenty-four hours with a woman he desired more than any other, one who’d made it known she was unattainable, here to fulfil a contract, nothing more—a contract that expired at midnight.

He knew she wouldn’t be comfortable about being alone with him this evening. Not after that moment in the dining room. She was not his usual type of woman, more the forever sort, and that held him back. Forever was something he couldn’t do, which was another reason for not exploring what was between him and Tilly.

He took a deep breath, bringing all his wayward desires under control, determined to shake off his inconvenient desire and be a perfect gentleman—until midnight at least. He returned to the kitchen to break the news to the only woman in the last three years who had threatened to rouse the man he’d once been, the man he could never risk being again.

Tilly was at the sink, her back to him as he entered, and he let his gaze linger for a moment then reminded himself of his decision of moments ago. Appreciating her petite figure wouldn’t help him at all.

‘It appears we will be here alone for New Year.’ As he spoke she turned to face him. For a brief moment he saw shock in her eyes, which tugged at the defence of irritation and anger he’d shrouded himself in. He couldn’t let her do that, for her sake as well as his.

‘I was just watching the snow. I’ve never seen so much falling.’ Her voice was very calm. She didn’t sound disconcerted that they were to be here alone in this rambling country mansion. Her expression as she looked at him told a different story.

‘My family are not prepared to travel as the forecast has changed. It isn’t good. It seems tomorrow we are now due to have blizzard conditions.’ He relayed the information he’d been told by his cousin, not wanting to panic her.

‘I hope Katie and Jane get back okay.’ She moved away from the window and to the table, where her food preparations were under way. ‘I guess you won’t need all this now.’

‘The evening plans will remain the same,’ he said curtly, not liking the way she nudged at emotions he’d thought had disappeared after the crash. He was beginning to feel a strange urge to care for her, protect her and keep her safe, but knew he couldn’t, not when guilt and blame lay at his feet.

Her blue eyes widened in shock and a startled gasp left her lips, doing untold things to his already stirred-up senses. He clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides, resisting the urge to cross the room, take her in his arms and kiss her until she gasped his name in pleasure.

‘But it will be just the two of us.’ Her silky soft voice, which stumbled slightly over the words, did little to quell the mounting desire within him, as did the image of them dining alone. He’d promised himself he’d be a perfect gentleman this evening and, no matter how hard that was, he would do it.

‘Sì, solo noi due.’ Hampered by his loss of control, he reverted to Italian. He’d never been like this with a woman. Even as a young and inexperienced man, he hadn’t floundered as he was now. It was a totally new and unwelcome sensation.

‘You can’t expect me to spend the evening with you. Not completely alone.’ She frowned at him but still looked incredibly enticing.

‘I can and I do.’ His sense of control was returning and the words sounded sharp.

‘But isn’t that...?’ She paused, her eyes meeting his, and he said nothing, hoping she wouldn’t echo his thoughts. ‘A bit too intimate?’

‘It’s New Year’s Eve, Natalie.’ He liked the way it felt to say her full name and revelled in the spark of annoyance that leapt to life in her eyes. ‘We are alone in this house. It would be churlish to do any different.’

‘Maybe we should try and get back to London before it’s too late?’ She glanced out at the falling snow.

‘It is already too late. I have checked online. Travel isn’t advisable. This snow has caught the forecaster unawares and already many of the local roads here are not passable unless you are in a four-wheel drive.’ He didn’t particularly relish the idea of being snowed in with a woman who made him want things he had no right to, but fate had dealt them this hand and he was adamant he wasn’t going to succumb to the temptation that was Natalie Rogers. Not while she was working for him.

‘Thank goodness I have a booking at a local bed and breakfast tonight,’ she said light-heartedly, and shrugged her shoulders, moving past him, her arm brushing against his. A strange sensation zipped around him, startling him.

‘I don’t think even that will be possible.’

‘I can’t stay here. Alone with you. All night.’ The horror at such a suggestion rang clear in her voice.

‘We will dine together, so make any necessary changes you need to. There is no reason to be hiding out here all night.’ As soon as he’d spoken he knew they had been the wrong words.

‘Hiding? Why would I be hiding?’ A hint of mockery was veiled beneath the amusement in her eyes and he couldn’t do anything else other than look into them.

‘You’ve already made it perfectly clear that spending time with me isn’t what you want to do.’ He quirked a brow at her, unable to resist building on the flirtatious mood as it swirled around them, intensifying by the second.

‘It isn’t professional.’

‘I think we can dispense with such professionalism—just for this evening, don’t you? It is New Year’s Eve and due to circumstances beyond our control we will be here alone all night.’ She was setting very clear boundaries, something he would normally adhere to, but they only urged him on, pushing him to take up the challenge her body was unconsciously sending to his.

* * *

‘I can’t stay here. Not all night,’ Tilly gasped out, incredulity in every word as the reality of the situation hit her. ‘I have to be at Vanessa’s house tomorrow. It’s her engagement party on New Year’s Day.’

She knew she was rambling and blushing again and it infuriated her. She always did it when she was anxious or nervous. When she looked at Xavier the smile tilting his lips upwards served only to panic her further, as did the flutter of awareness growing inside her.

‘I’m very sorry, cara, but you won’t be going anywhere tonight. It’s just you and me.’ The sexy undercurrent in his voice was clear, but if he thought he was going to take advantage of the situation he was very much mistaken. She wasn’t going to fall into a heap at his feet, bowled over by his sexy accent and good looks. She would not be added to his list of conquests.

‘No,’ she said, not liking the way he made her so flustered as once again his fingers brushed over hers. ‘I have somewhere to stay.’

Staying here wasn’t going to be very professional—anything but, in fact. It was bad enough she had to give in to his insistence that she join him at the table for the New Year’s Eve dinner, but staying all night wouldn’t do her reputation any good at all.

‘Assuming, of course, you could actually leave here.’ He sounded far too self-assured and it crossed her mind that he might have engineered this.

As soon as the thought came she squashed it. She was fooling herself with such notions. A man like Xavier Moretti wouldn’t engineer time with her. She hadn’t seen anything of life, as Jason had boldly told her. She was just a naïve inexperienced twenty-three-year-old who was in danger of reading too much into Xavier’s flirtation.

‘No, I have to be at Vanessa’s party. I can’t let her down.’ Desperation sounded in her voice. Being at Vanessa’s party was a lot more than just attending a party. It was proving, to herself and her friend, that she’d moved on from last year.

‘Did you not just say the party was tomorrow?’

She frowned at him, unable to settle her nerves, unsure if she was more frightened of driving in such conditions or staying here alone with him. ‘Yes, tomorrow evening.’

‘Then call and explain. You can leave tomorrow if the weather permits. In the meantime, I suggest you bring in your luggage and I will show you to your room.’

‘My room?’ Everything was spiralling out of control and she didn’t like it one bit. She constantly strove to be in control as much as possible. Control was the mainstay of her life.

‘But of course. I was expecting guests and have rooms made up.’ He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparking with mischief. He was enjoying this, damn him.

Resigned to the fact she had little choice, she sighed her discontent and took her van keys from the table. ‘Very well, I’ll fetch my things.’

‘Bene. Don’t forget your party dress.’

She whirled round to face him. ‘What?’

‘Your party dress, the one you planned to wear at your friend’s party. You will need it tonight.’ Each word was so deep and sultry it was far too sexy and she couldn’t think straight. Why on earth was he talking about party dresses?

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s New Year’s Eve and we will dine together in style.’

CHAPTER THREE

XAVIER 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.

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