The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection

‘I don’t want anyone to know about us.’ She looked down at the breakfast, which suddenly looked very unappetising. She was acting from self-preservation. There was no way she could admit what she really wanted. This was worse than her wedding morning when Jason had told her it was over. ‘From a professional point of view, I don’t want to risk future clients finding out.’

‘Sì, that is best. What happened here will stay here, within these walls, probably adding to secrets from generations ago.’

She looked up at him, pain crushing her. How had she got so close so quickly? Was it simply because of the intimate moments they’d shared, the secrets they’d spoken of?

It was much more than that—for her at least. It was love. She hadn’t ever allowed herself to fall in love, not even with Jason, and without realising it she’d fallen in love with Xavier Moretti as quickly as the snow had fallen from the grey sky. The worst man possible to love.

He wasn’t like the boy she’d grown up with who had suddenly wanted more from life than she could give. This was a man who thrived on his playboy reputation, who was probably even now planning his next meaningless affair.

He didn’t love her. She had to remember that as they left this place. For him it had been nothing more than an opportune affair, just as it should have been for her.

No matter how her heart broke at the prospect, she was determined to say goodbye in a cool and dignified way. She couldn’t risk him knowing how she felt, not when he would merely dismiss that love as nothing. She would walk away from this with her head held high.

* * *

Xavier put their cases into the back of the four-wheel drive his friend had organised, thankful that they would at least be heading back to London before the end of the day. He didn’t think he could spend another night here and not go to Tilly.

He glanced at her as she got into the back and wondered how she really felt. The driver sat solemnly waiting as he climbed up into the back beside her. There wouldn’t be any chance of talk now. Not real talk. He’d never know if it had been simply lust-filled passion or something more that had filled their nights.

Her cold acceptance and obvious relief at being rescued proved what she’d said as they’d walked in the snow yesterday morning. Their first night together had been wrong, a mistake. So what did that make last night? Another item ticked off her list, one to prove her new-found spontaneity?

He tried to ignore the sizzle from being close to her. Tilly pulled out her phone and sent a text. She looked up at him, as if sensing his scrutiny.

‘Just letting Vanessa know I’m heading back to London. We’ll catch up at her party.’ Her face looked a little pale but she smiled brightly at him, her excitement for her friend showing clearly. Or was it that they were on their way home and she would be free of him?

He looked out at the passing countryside, white and unrecognisable, admitting that whatever strange emotion she’d evoked in him, he wasn’t looking for any kind of commitment. How could he when most nights the accident filled his dreams and the pain remained in his legs as a constant reminder. The last two nights had been dream-free. He stifled a growl of anger. He didn’t deserve the love of a woman when he’d deprived another of the man she loved because of the need to win a race.

Finally the snowy countryside gave way to suburban scenes and he knew there wouldn’t be much longer to endure this feeling of being tortured. He’d say goodbye, make it clear it was exactly that and walk away. Whatever he was beginning to feel for her, she deserved better.

‘Not long now,’ she said, her soft words dragging him from his thoughts. He didn’t recognise the streets they were in and tried not to notice where they were going. He didn’t want to know where she lived.

‘It’s good to be back,’ he lied, hoping the harshness of his words would leave her in no doubt it was over between them. This was his way of protecting them both from the hot passion and tender love they’d shared that could never be repeated.

‘Yes. It is.’ Her soft voice held a hint of regret.

The driver pulled over and before he’d had a chance to stop himself he looked out at the street they were in. Damn. He didn’t want to see its name, didn’t want it imprinted on his mind so he could imagine her here. He wanted it to remain just an anonymous London street. He needed to keep her for ever in the snowy manor, in his memory at least.

‘I’ll walk you to your door.’ He was out of the vehicle before she could argue and as he pulled her case out she joined him.

‘There’s no need Xavier, please.’ The defiant lift of her chin reminded him of the first time he’d wanted to kiss her.

The firmness of her words also held a warning. She didn’t want to prolong them being together at all, or for him to know exactly where she lived.

‘Va bene. Then I say goodbye and thank you.’

‘Thank you?’ Her soft lips parted, unwittingly inviting his kiss, and he clenched his hands tightly against the need to take that kiss.

‘It was a very memorable New Year’s Eve, despite the circumstances that forced us together.’ He knew he sounded brisk and indifferent, he could see the shock in her eyes, but he was reminding himself he couldn’t have more.

‘We’re back in London now and our time at the manor stays there. Remember?’ There was a slight wobble to her voice and a question in her eyes. He fought hard against the urge to tell her that he wanted more, if only guilt would set him free, but he couldn’t tell her. She’d calmly told him he was nothing more than a tick on her list. A fling to get over the man who’d broken her heart.

‘Sì, cara. I remember. Arrivederci, Natalie.’ Pride kept him from saying anything—and fear of rejection.

* * *

‘Goodbye, Signor Moretti.’ Tilly’s legs were weak as she stood there, looking into the handsome face of the man she loved. She wanted to tell him not to go, tell him something special had started, something they shouldn’t let go of, but the fierce glitter in his eyes kept her words from forming.

He hadn’t hidden the fact that all he’d expected had been a brief affair, company during the hours of darkness. She’d used the same excuse herself, but it had been a way of justifying how he’d swept her away that first moment their eyes had met. She’d labelled it a bucket list fling in her mind, one Jason had pushed her into. But if she was honest she knew it was more.

She picked up her small overnight bag and clutched the dress she’d draped over her arm as if it were a lifeline. Never again could she wear it, or even look at it.

She turned and walked towards the main door of her flat. The building was familiar and should have steadied her nerves, but it didn’t. Nothing in London seemed to have changed—but she had.

‘Tilly?’

Hope flared to life inside her at the tentative tone of his voice as she turned back to look at him. Tell me, she thought as she watched various emotions cross his face. Tell me you want me—that you’ve fallen in love with me.

‘Yes?’ Her voice sounded amazingly firm considering all that was rushing around in her head.

‘Email me with the bill—and make sure the cost reflects all the time you were at the manor.’

She swallowed down the bad taste that had sprung to her lips. He didn’t want her—all he was worried about was settling his bill. And she thought she’d used him.

She nodded, not able to say anything. The hard expression on his face told her he wouldn’t want her to. All he wanted was to get away as fast as possible. Even now he was turning and walking back towards the car.

Before a single tear sprang from her eyes she made her way to her flat, wanting to get inside and shut him out of her life for good. Behind her she heard a car door slam shut and an engine start. The man she loved was leaving. She wanted to turn, wanted to catch one last glimpse of him, but that would only intensify her pain.

She’d got what she wanted. The opportunity to move on from Jason, to be a different woman. What she hadn’t planned on doing was falling in love with a man who could leave and never give her a second thought.

She put her key in the lock, the first step to returning to her normal life. A soft whisper slipped from her lips. ‘Arrivederci, Xavier.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

XAVIER HAD REPLAYED Tilly’s parting words over and over in his head all night, her voice soft and barely above a whisper. Then her eyes had met his, hardness he’d never seen in hers making them resemble ice.

He could still feel the finality inside him, the realisation that what he’d discovered with her was over, that nothing more would ever come of those three nights they’d spent at the manor. He couldn’t tell her he didn’t want to see her again, that he still carried guilt from the accident and didn’t deserve what he saw in her eyes. Instead, he’d used her favoured shield of professionalism, asking for her bill.

The chauffeur-driven car pulled out into London’s afternoon traffic heading for the airport. He sat back and thought of Paulo’s widow and the charity event she was holding tonight in Milan and knew he couldn’t go. He couldn’t leave London, leave Tilly. Last night he’d done nothing but think of her and knew he wanted more than a brief affair. He wanted the forever she secretly craved. But did she want it with him? He had to know.

He had to see Tilly, had to tell her he wanted her in his life. He couldn’t allow guilt to rule him any longer, because if those three nights at the manor had been the start of something special he couldn’t let it pass him by. She’d helped him find peace and had begun to free him from the guilt he’d carried since the accident. But more importantly—he loved her.

He pulled out his phone and dialled. ‘Sofia,’ he said calmly as Paulo’s widow answered, then spoke firmly in Italian. ‘I’m not going to be able to get there this evening. Can you forgive me?’

‘Is it the woman you were snowed in with?’

‘How do you know that?’ Suspicion narrowed his eyes and the urge to confide in her was overwhelming.

‘Your emails were full of her. Go to her, Xavier. You’ve punished yourself long enough. Paulo would want you to be happy and so do I.’ Sofia’s firm words lifted the fog that had clouded his mind and he knew exactly what he had to do.

After wishing her luck for that evening, he ended the call. ‘Change of plan,’ he said to the driver, and instructed him first to go to a jeweller’s in Knightsbridge then to Tilly’s address, the one that was emblazoned on his memory.

Impatience and apprehension filled him as the car turned around and negotiated the heavy traffic. All he could think of was Tilly. But would she see him? He had to make her understand he couldn’t accept her goodbye. He couldn’t walk away.

During those dark hours at the manor, as the blizzard had raged, they’d shared their innermost vulnerabilities and were now inexplicably connected—whether they liked it or not.

A short while later he stood on the street where they’d said goodbye and thought of the vulnerable woman he’d held in his arms as darkness had shrouded them. He let out a deep breath. The evening darkness of January was beginning to descend. It was as if he’d been transported back to that night in front of the fire, the night Tilly had exposed every vulnerable emotion he could possibly feel. Each one was with him now, some urging him on, forcing him to cross the road to her flat and knock on the door. Others held him back. But none of them could be ignored any longer. He wanted Tilly, not just with lust and passion but with something much deeper and more profound.

He didn’t believe she’d only wanted a brief fling. How could what they’d shared have been so intense if that was really true? He cursed the fact he hadn’t challenged her or told her he didn’t want to say goodbye. Just as he hoped she had been doing, he’d hidden behind the fear of rejection—but he couldn’t do that any longer. Paulo’s widow had made him realise that.

* * *

Tilly watched from the window as Xavier stood on the street, his indecision clear, before he crossed the street and made his way to the main door of her flat. Her heart thumped hard and memories of those blissful nights at the manor rushed back from the place she’d locked them. She’d successfully done that, but now his unexpected presence made her wonder what would have happened if she and Xavier had been forced to stay in the manor longer.

He would have tired of her within days and she wouldn’t have been able to hide her love, something he wasn’t capable of. That night in front of the fire she’d tried to heal his pain, tried to love him, but all he’d wanted had been to get away as fast as he could.

What did he want from her now? In an act of self-preservation she’d made it quite clear what had happened between them had meant nothing and would never be repeated.

Judging by the internet pictures she’d seen of him out last night—hours after they’d said goodbye, with a very beautiful woman hanging on his arm and every word—he had moved on. Forgotten her completely. It was what she’d wanted, but it didn’t make it any easier. She loved him, had missed him next to her at night.

The need to know more of Xavier, to see his handsome face again, had made her do the one thing she’d never done before—look up a man on the internet. Not just as a professional check for business purposes but because she’d had to.

Initially she’d been looking for information on the accident, wanting to know why he blamed himself, and had found nothing to suggest anyone had blamed him. Then with one final click she had stumbled across photos of him looking more than comfortable with a new woman at a celebrity party. Pain had slashed through her. Hurt, betrayal and finally resignation. He would never look at her in any other way than for a casual affair.

At least now she could understand his haste to get away from the manor. Not only did he regret their intimacy, he’d moved on, his next conquest waiting in the wings.

Her doorbell rang, distracting her from the painful thoughts, and with a heavy heart she pressed the button to open the main door of her flat. It was time to be brave, move forward and not look back. She couldn’t let Xavier know that being with him had made her realise she’d never loved Jason, or that he’d stirred her childhood memories as well as her heart, and that as soon as she’d returned home she’d set about contacting her father’s family in Tuscany, ticking off another item on her list.

Now they wanted to meet her. She should be ecstatic, but her elation was tinged with sadness. She’d wanted to tell Xavier, thank him for giving her that final push, that final bit of courage. Her bag was packed and she was leaving at the weekend, but first she had a night out with Vanessa.

That thought lifted her spirits a little, even though Vanessa had grilled her constantly about this mysterious Italian with whom she’d spent an entire three days locked away from the world. After a bit of pressure she’d told Vanessa that she’d ticked an item off her list, that she’d moved on from Jason, but she couldn’t admit she’d fallen in love and given him her virginity, something Vanessa had had no idea had still existed. Not when the man in question was even more capable of breaking her heart than Jason had been.

A loud knock on her flat door jolted her from her thoughts and she looked through the viewer to see Xavier, his back to the door, impatience in his stance as he waited for her to open it. There was no mistaking who he was. She’d know that rigid set of Xavier’s shoulders anywhere. They, along with everything else about him, were imprinted on her mind for evermore.

She pushed her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. She had no idea what he wanted, but it wasn’t her. She took in a deep breath, preparing to face the man she loved.

‘Xavier,’ she said as she opened the door, injecting a happy note into her voice, one she was far from feeling. ‘We agreed. Remember?’

As soon as she’d said the words, she knew she’d given herself away. The way he coolly assessed her sent her nerves jangling and she resisted the urge to give in to the need to babble on. She didn’t have to explain herself to anyone, least of all Xavier Moretti.

‘Sì, mi ricordo.’ His brisk tone left her in no doubt he wasn’t here to rekindle the passion they’d shared. ‘May I come in?’

The piercing intensity in his eyes sent exasperation rushing through her, but she bit back her retort. If he thought he could come from one woman back to her, then he had got it drastically wrong. Just as she had done, trusting him at the manor. ‘I am rather busy packing.’

He looked surprised and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. ‘Where and when are you going?’ The firmness in his voice couldn’t hide the shock her news had given him.

‘I’m going to Tuscany to meet my father’s family.’

‘Something else crossed off your list?’ The hard look in his eyes made a chill run down her spine.

She nodded. ‘I have you to thank for that.’ It was true. If he hadn’t made her talk about the past, unlocking a door she’d hidden behind like a terrified animal, then she wouldn’t be going. She wouldn’t even have contacted them.

‘And when would this be?’

She stood back, giving in to the need to see him again. He walked past her and into the small flat she proudly called home, only too aware it would be inferior to what he would be used to—but he was in her world now. He glanced at her passport and boarding pass, which sat neatly on her kitchen counter. ‘This Saturday?’

‘Yes.’ She resented the fact that he’d helped himself to the information, realising he was now very different from the relaxed man she’d shared a few passionate nights with. He might be in her world, but he’d brought his own agenda with him. ‘What is it you want, Xavier?’

Unexplainably irritated by his presence, she glared at him, wanting to know why he was there, but another part of her dreaded the answer, especially after seeing last night’s internet photos.

‘We need to talk.’ He moved a step closer and it was all she could do not to move away. She stayed firm and lifted her chin a little, looking directly into his handsome face, noting the hint of stubble and realising that even at the manor, when everything had been so different, he’d been clean-shaven. As she looked more closely she saw lines of tiredness etched on his face.

‘There’s nothing to say, Xavier.’

‘You know part of the story, now I want you to know the rest.’

Why was he talking to her like this? Cautiously, allowing a bit of hope into her heart, she responded, ‘Go on.’

‘Christmas wasn’t something I celebrated, not after destroying Paulo’s family.’ His face hardened, all trace of humour gone. Whatever it was that had happened at the racetrack that day haunted him still.

‘So why the New Year dinner party?’ She sensed there was more but knew he wouldn’t tell her. He hadn’t when she’d asked about his aversion to Christmas at the manor. She had been kept behind his defensive wall.

‘The New Year dinner party was for the benefit of my parents. Nothing more.’ His dark gaze met hers and she saw confusion and honesty in them. ‘An item crossed off my list.’

She touched his arm and those intense dark eyes searched her face. ‘I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re punishing yourself when you shouldn’t.’

‘Because of me and my need to win that race, my friend is dead. I had to be hard on myself.’ The words snapped from him and the pain in his voice froze the air around them before shattering it.

‘I don’t know much about motorcycle racing, Xavier, but I do know accidents are investigated and reports are made.’ She tried to placate him, tried to smooth the pain. They might be in her small flat, back in the real world, but right now it was as if the magic that had caught them in its grip at the manor had returned, weaving around them, shutting everything out.

‘I don’t need a damn report to tell me it was my fault. I know that, here.’ He thumped his fist against his chest, the pain in that action evident.

She wanted to reach for him, to wrap her arms around him and let her love wash away all that misplaced guilt, all that self-inflicted pain, but something held her back. She still didn’t understand why he was there. Why now when he’d only just been in the company of a new woman?

‘I saw it on the internet, Xavier.’ The words were a firm whisper, severing the thread of connection that had just woven itself around them. ‘Nobody blames you.’

* * *

Xavier stood and looked at Tilly, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, and he remembered how it had felt, how soft it had been as he’d slid his fingers into it before kissing her.

‘You looked it up?’

Her gorgeous blue eyes widened in shock and she drew in a quick breath, but she didn’t move. After what felt like an eternity she finally spoke again, her voice holding an unsteady quiver. ‘Yes.’

‘And what did you decide?’ This was his worst fear. She blamed him, believed he was guilty. Why else would she look him up on the internet?

‘That you are being too hard on yourself.’ Firmness entered her voice and as he looked into her eyes he could see determination there and a strength he’d never noticed before. Her words echoed Sofia’s.

He realised that right now he had the biggest fight of his life on his hands. The fight for the woman he loved, the woman he wanted in his life for evermore. This was worse than being on the track, pushing the bike harder and faster to win. If he lost this fight, he’d lose everything.

‘Why are you here?’ The sharp question fired at him, dragging him from his thoughts, focusing his attention on what he was there for—the woman he loved.

‘To talk to you.’ It was all he could do not to reach for her, not to draw her close and kiss the surprise from her beautiful face, but already he could see her backing away emotionally. She was slipping behind the wall she’d built to keep everyone out and he couldn’t let that happen.

‘Why? It won’t serve any purpose.’ She stepped away from him, trying to put as much distance as possible between them. For the first time in his adult life he was unsure how to read a woman’s actions, especially as he still hadn’t worked out what he was going to say. All he knew was that he’d had to say something.

‘We are no longer strangers, Tilly. Dio mio, we have spent two nights in each other’s arms like lovers.’

Lovers. The word raced in his head. He hadn’t wanted to love her, but it had happened and now all he wanted was her love. She’d touched something deep inside him. She had changed and healed him.

When it had happened he didn’t know, but it had. He recalled the first moment he’d seen her standing in the courtyard at Wimble Manor as the snow had drifted to the ground around her, landing on her red woolly hat, which he’d found so very amusing. Had that been the moment?

‘No, Xavier. We agreed. Those nights meant nothing.’ Was she really dismissing what they’d shared as nothing?

That first moment her lips had met his rushed back. He was there once more, standing by the Christmas tree, loaded tension swirling around them, dragging them deeper and deeper under the spell of love.

Now that spell was no longer. The harsh glitter in her eyes didn’t hold any softness, any love. If anything, they held contempt.

‘It doesn’t have to stay that way.’ He moved towards her but she stepped back.

‘It does, Xavier. You are not the type of man I need. You would never make me happy. We have to say goodbye.’

He frowned, trying to process her words. ‘Goodbye?’

‘Yes, goodbye.’ She stood firmly in the middle of her living room, glaring angrily at him. What had changed in such a short time? ‘So, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave.’