in Italian. ‘Buon Anno Nuovo, Xavier.’
What was she doing? As his lips almost touched hers, she pulled back, but his hand in her hair held her. ‘Your contract is over, Natalie, and you can’t deny there is something between us tonight.’
Was he giving her permission to kiss him, to give in to the desire that thudded in her veins? His lips met hers, brushing so tenderly over them that a soft sigh escaped her. The kiss became harder, more demanding and she couldn’t help herself.
She fought hard to keep her eyes open but it was all she could do to stop her lashes lowering. His lips tasted hers and she resisted the temptation to press herself against him, hot need rushing through her. This was just a New Year’s kiss. Nothing more.
His fingers curled tightly in her hair, keeping her lips just where she really wanted them—beneath his. A small sigh of pleasure sounded in her throat as the kiss intensified, his tongue seeking hers.
She gave herself up to the ecstasy of the moment, her body filled with fiery heat. How could a kiss be so unbelievably hot? His lips trailed down her throat and her whole body trembled. He kissed her bare shoulders as he cupped her breast, the pad of his thumb grazing over her peaked nipple, causing her to drag in a breath of pure pleasure.
He moved against her and through the silk of her dress she could feel the firmness of his body, from the muscular chest to his strong thighs. Unashamedly she moulded herself against him, the hardness of his arousal pressing against her, tormenting her.
As passion threatened to overpower her, take away her last remnants of sanity, he pushed her away. Shock stunned her, freezing her mind and body. All she could hear was the thud of her pulse as her heart raced, but when she looked at him, the expression on his face had turned cold.
What had she done? What had she been thinking? Kissing Xavier Moretti like that?
The fierce look on his face left her in no doubt she’d gone too far, read too much into the flirtatious mood of the evening.
‘That shouldn’t have happened.’ The husky tone of her voice cracked with raw desire that even she could hear. He continued to watch her, displeasure increasingly more evident in his eyes and the firm line of the lips that had just sent her senses into overdrive.
The temptation to turn and run upstairs was immense, but she must never let him know what his kiss had done. The world had stopped turning; everything except him had ceased to exist.
She stepped back, feeling a chill on her skin after the heat of being in front of the fire. Or was it the heat of his kiss? Those dark and wickedly brooding eyes didn’t leave her face for one second, causing her cheeks to glow as a blush crept over them.
‘Goodnight.’ Thankfully firmness brushed aside the husky voice she’d just heard coming from herself. She stepped back again and the further she moved from him the more humiliation rose within her.
‘Buona notte, Natalie.’
Damn him, he wasn’t making this easy for her. He could at least say sorry. But you kissed him back. The traitorous voice in her head mocked her embarrassment and she dragged in a deep breath.
She had to get out of there. Slowly she turned to walk up the stairs, feeling him watching every move she made so intently she could hardly walk. After what seemed like an eternity she reached the first landing.
‘Natalie?’
The sensual way he said her name had her turning to him instinctively, but she refused to go back, refused to be drawn into something neither of them wanted—or needed. She couldn’t respond, couldn’t say one word as their eyes met.
‘Grazie.’
She didn’t wait to find out what he thanking her for or even acknowledge it. She gave him a brief smile before she turned, forgetting her earlier intention and running up the stairs as fast as she could in her high heels. She didn’t dare stop, not until she’d reached the sanctuary of her room.
* * *
Xavier woke as a chill spread over him. The fire, which had burned so hot at midnight, was now nothing more than embers glowing amidst the ash. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about the fire of desire within him.
He should never have kissed her, never have accepted her unspoken invitation to taste those lush lips, because now that he had, he wanted more. With each passing hour he’d been drawn to her with an inevitability that he’d been unable to ignore, despite the guilt that had prevented him from even thinking of kissing a woman in the last three years.
He stood up and pain niggled down his legs, a legacy of the accident and a constant reminder of his guilt. As was Tilly’s insistence that she worked for him, making it plain that, despite the pull of attraction between them, nothing would ever happen.
But something had happened.
She’d kissed him back, responded so hotly he’d wanted her right there and then.
He’d only intended to brush his lips over hers in a celebratory kiss, and he’d almost stopped, sensing that a boundary would be crossed, a boundary she’d firmly set.
As his lips had tasted hers he’d lost his ability to think. The heat of her lips on his still seared him. Kissing her had been all he’d wanted to do; he couldn’t allow things to go further, and not just because she was vulnerable. The only woman to have seen his battered body was Carlotta. As the memories of her revulsion had mixed with his constant guilt, he’d pushed Tilly away.
He’d watched Tilly all but run upstairs and had been unable to process the implications of what had happened. Her door had clicked closed and he had marched away from the ever-mocking Christmas tree, back to the heat of the fire.
Maledizione. He should never have kissed her. She’d tested his control, pushing it almost to the breaking point. He’d forced himself to let her go, to step away from her when every nerve in his body had cried out for the satisfaction of feeling her against him. He’d remained downstairs because he’d known Natalie wasn’t a one-night sort of woman.
He glanced out of the landing windows, out into the night, which was illuminated by the snow, casting an eerie glow. At least it had stopped snowing. With any luck the minor roads leading away from the manor would be clear by tomorrow and she could leave—even if he had to dig through the snow to make a track to the road. She couldn’t stay here, not when she tempted him, making him want things he had no right to want.
As he finally retired to his room he paused at the end of the corridor that led to Tilly’s room. He imagined her asleep in the grand four-poster bed and knew he didn’t want her to be so far away from him, and not just because they were alone in the house.
With another stream of curses muttered under his breath he turned and strode towards his room. Whatever had happened tonight could not be repeated.
TILLY WOKE WITH a start the next morning. At first she couldn’t work out where she was. Then everything came flooding back. Had she really kissed Xavier last night? Or had it been a dream? Surely she hadn’t done anything so stupid? She scanned the dim room, looking for anything that would remind her and help her clarify reality from dreams.
