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Thank you so much for your fantastic support, guidance and encouragement as I’ve moved from unpublished finalist in SYTYCW 2013 to this, my fifth book.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