New Year at the Boss's Bidding(3)

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.'