New Year at the Boss's Bidding(12)

'Your charm and flirtatious manner might work with other women, but it  will not work with me.' She should push him away, prove the point, but  she couldn't. Her body was acting against her mind, seeking what it  wanted, not what was best.

'Because you are still in love with the man you should have married?'  His eyes narrowed as he frowned, but the spark of desire within them  couldn't be concealed.

'Yes,' she lied. Surely he'd let her go if he thought that. It was the  best form of defence, even though now she'd finally realised what she  and Jason had shared had been friendship, not love. 'And because I am  here as your caterer, not your latest conquest.'

* * *

'I don't believe you.' Xavier looked into Tilly's blue eyes, seeing  them swirl with desire, echoing the hum within his body. Was that  possible if she was still in love with another man? Wouldn't she have  pushed him away? She certainly wouldn't look so sexy and kissable, her  lips parting in invitation as she held his gaze. If her heart loved  another man her eyes would be blazing with indignation, not desire.                       
       
           



       

'Well, it's true,' she said firmly, finally pushing against him.

He let her go, resisting the temptation to taste those full lips, but  her eyes looked so full of desire, so brimming with passion yet to be  tasted, it was almost impossible. She was right about being his hired  help and he'd respect that-for now.

She bent and brushed her hand over the champagne mark on her dress and  he knew it was to avoid looking at him, preventing him seeing what had  been shining from her eyes. She couldn't hide that raw passion and  desire. It was too late.

'Then why are you here tonight? Why aren't you with this Jason, telling  him how much you love him?' he taunted mercilessly. He couldn't help  himself. Natalie Rogers was doing untold things to him, forcing a new  emotion that felt very much like jealousy to the fore.

She stood up straight, the worry of her dress abandoned, but her  irritation with him clearly not. 'Need I remind you again? I'm here,  working-for you.'

The feisty tone of her voice brought a smile to his face, which, to his  amusement, antagonised her further. 'More champagne? You cannot toast  in the New Year with an empty glass. Midnight is minutes away-as is the  end of your contract.'

For a moment he thought she was going to refuse. Her eyes sparked with  passion-induced anger and he wanted her more than he'd wanted any woman.  The black silk of her dress seemed sculpted over her breasts, which  rose and fell with each breath.

She was beautiful. Perfect.

She was also a reminder of all he didn't deserve to have.

'Just one more glass.' Her husky whisper pulled him back from those  thoughts, from the need to punish and deprive himself of happiness or  love. He didn't deserve either, not when one mistake-his mistake-had  snatched Paulo's life and with it the happiness of an entire family.

'Grazie,' he said, his voice rough and rasping as he pushed the demons  away, not wanting them tormenting him tonight. He poured the last of the  champagne into each flute, feeling her gaze on him. What would she  think of him if she knew the truth? Would the hot sizzle of desire she  couldn't quite conceal still radiate from her? Or would she be like  Carlotta? Cold and disgusted?

'Thank you.' She took the flute of champagne from him but couldn't meet  his gaze, her long dark lashes lowering over her eyes, locking him out.

He strode over to the fire, placed his champagne on the mantelpiece and  tossed another log onto the fire, stoking the flames, making them leap,  matching the way his desire for her had burst into life from the  thought of just one kiss.

'You must be regretting taking this contract.' He spoke firmly as he  looked into the fire, its heat matching that which still pumped around  his body.

'I took the job because I didn't want to be forced to party and  celebrate-or remember.' Her voice was unwavering, the husky whisper of  moments ago gone, replaced by total strength.

'He is a fool.' He growled the words out and turned to look at her. 'To throw away a woman like you.'

'It wasn't quite like that,' she said, and moved towards him, drawn by  the warmth of the fire. The clock in the hall chimed, marking the last  fifteen minutes of the year, and she looked up at him. 'We'd been  together since school and I suppose we drifted into wedding plans, not  wanting to disappoint our families. It was always expected we'd marry.'

The resigned tone of her voice, the acceptance of what she'd just said  didn't fit with her earlier declarations of love for the man who'd left  her. 'Yet you love him still?'

'Yes.' She looked down at her glass before taking a sip. 'He was my childhood sweetheart. I will always love him.'

'You should not waste your love on a man who walked away from you.'  Involuntarily he took a step towards her, the connection between them  strengthening. They both knew the pain of rejection, but it had been he  who'd pushed Carlotta from his life after she'd all but rejected him.

'And do you speak from experience, Signor Moretti?'

The use of his surname shocked him momentarily, but he knew what she  was trying to do. As the minutes ticked away the year and the spark of  attraction increased, she wanted to instil propriety into the moment,  remind him-and herself-of why they were here like this at all.

'I was involved in a racing accident that left me badly hurt and no  longer the kind of company a glamorous model keeps. I couldn't offer  Carlotta the luxurious lifestyle she craved any longer.' He wanted to  tell her more, tell her he knew what it felt like to be rejected, but  those words failed him. 'When I told her we were over she simply walked  away and into the arms of another man.'                       
       
           



       

The soft gasp of shock that came from her lips made guilt rush through  him and he turned away from her, looking again into the flames. He  sensed her next to him before he felt her hand on his arm.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered softly.

What was she sorry for? His failed relationship, the accident, or  forcing him to remember? 'It was for the best.' He snapped the words  out, hoping to kill the conversation.

'When did it happen? The accident, I mean.' The tentative question  nudged the memories back a little as her husky voice began to stir his  desire again.

'Summer. Three years ago.' He looked into her eyes, saw the blue darken  until they looked like a midnight sky. He was beginning to drown,  pulled by an unknown force towards something he knew he shouldn't  sample, let alone have.

'You sent her away because you were in hospital?' Incredulity poured  from her, but he wondered what she would have done, faced with his rage  and furious need to lash out. Would she have flinched, her face unable  to hide her disgust when she saw his injuries for the first time? Would  she have stayed around him as his mood had blackened and his guilt  deepened?

'I was not the man she'd met, and couldn't offer the globetrotting life  she sought. So I ended it.' The words sounded like a snarl as he  slipped back in time, seeing again the moment that once lovely face had  screwed up in selfish pity. 'Grazie a Dio! It was for the best.'

'I don't know what to say.' The gentle concern in Tilly's eyes was  almost too much. He was glad Carlotta had revealed her true self to him.  It was just sad that it had taken such an accident to show him the kind  of woman she was.

'When should you have married?' He needed to deflect attention from  himself, prevent the horror of those months coming out into the open and  infesting his dreams as they always did when he thought too much.

'An hour after Jason told me the engagement was off.'

* * *

Tilly clenched her teeth, biting back the tears. She couldn't let them  fall now. Not here. Not in front of this man. She'd thought she was over  Jason, over the way he'd called everything off so suddenly.

'Dio mio.'

The expletive was hotly followed by rapid Italian words she couldn't  understand and her need to give to tears was swamped by the urge to  laugh-in a way she hadn't done for months. How could she talk about it  to Xavier and even find it funny? It was this place and being marooned  from reality.

Exactly a year ago she should have married the man she'd believed to be  her Mr Right. He'd been safe, comfortable, someone she'd grown up with,  then he'd catapulted her into a new life, telling her she should live  for the moment, as he'd done. Was that what she was fighting against  now? A moment with an Italian playboy who set her pulse racing?

Xavier stepped close to her and reached out his hand, stroking the  backs of his fingers across her cheek. The air cracked with tension as  she continued to resist giving in to the temptation of a kiss. Seconds  slowed to minutes as he moved closer still. So close she could smell his  fresh masculine scent, taste it on her tongue.