The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection. Kate HardyЧитать онлайн книгу.
the first time he’d caught a glimpse of a happy future. He’d seen it, tasted it. It would never be possible, not now she’d made it obvious she didn’t want him, that he’d been a chance opportunity to chase away the memory of another man.
If any other woman had told him that, he’d have been relieved, but hearing Tilly say it cut painfully into his slumbering emotions. It didn’t alter the way he felt about her. If he didn’t know better, he’d even go as far as to say it might be close to deeper feelings, the sort he’d vowed not to allow into his life because of his guilt over Paulo’s death.
But Tilly didn’t want him. She’d only wanted one night. He’d had the tables turned on him. He pushed the uncomfortable thought aside. There were far more important things to worry about—like getting back to London and away from Tilly.
The gates he’d driven through two days ago still stood open, snow banked up against the wrought-iron bars. The lane that wound through the trees they’d just walked under was hidden from view beneath a blanket of fluffy white snow several inches deep. Only two sets of footprints disturbed the untouched surface of whiteness. He strode past the gate and out to the road, which was equally unrecognisable. They would not be going anywhere soon, that much was evident.
He turned to look at Tilly as she stopped next to him, the look of utter devastation on her face spiking his already guilt-ridden conscience. Dio mio, as if he didn’t already have enough guilt to carry around.
‘So much for leaving today.’ Her delicate brows rose sharply in a gesture of haughtiness he hadn’t seen in her before.
‘Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Natalie.’ He turned his back on the snow-covered road and looked down at her. As she glared up at him, her lips pressed into a firm and angry line, he had to fight the urge to kiss them just once more, until they became as soft and kissable as they’d been last night.
‘Tilly,’ she snapped at him. ‘Nobody calls me Natalie now.’
‘Is that what your fiancé called you?’ he goaded her, and could almost see the snow melting beneath her feet as her anger simmered over and towards the boiling point.
She shook her head and sadness crept into her eyes, spiking him with another layer of guilt.
‘Nonna.’ Her blue eyes were glacially sharp as she looked at him and he knew he’d unexpectedly touched a raw nerve, that she was thinking about the grandmother she must have adored as a child.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, moving towards her, remembering their brief conversation about her family. ‘Maybe one day you will see her again.’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘She passed away a few years ago. My mother and I didn’t have contact with any other family in Italy. It’s in the past and the past can’t be changed.’
Just as last night can’t be changed. The words drifted casually through his mind. Would he change it? He wouldn’t change a thing since the moment she’d arrived at Wimble Manor—except her cold rejection this morning.
‘I, more than most, know that is true.’ He thought of all the times he’d wished he could have gone back and changed things, but no amount of wishing would bring Paulo back. Nothing could change that day, erase it from his memory, where it was branded for evermore. ‘But sometimes, cara, you can shape the future to mend the past.’
His philosophical words taunted him cruelly. He hadn’t achieved that miracle yet.
‘If that is true, then we need to use last night’s mistake. You and I both know it would never have happened under normal circumstances, but it did. If I believed in fate, I’d say we were meant to be here like this to heal our pain.’ She looked from him to the snow-covered lane, desolation clear on her face. When she looked back at him everything about her was cool and collected, as cold as the snowy landscape.
‘Is that what you really think?’ He’d asked the question before he’d been able to halt the words. What had happened last night, those desire-filled hours together in front of the fire, had been so wildly passionate, so intense and new. Deep down he didn’t want to turn his back on it. He’d sampled something he might never know again and a part of him couldn’t let that go.
Despite her strong, almost flippant attitude this morning, her sharp words and obvious disappointment at not being able to leave, she too wanted more. She might be hiding behind the taunting admission of wanting a fling, but she couldn’t ignore what drew them together—just as he couldn’t.
‘No.’ She looked at him then began the long walk back to the manor house, forcing him to follow. ‘We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
TILLY STAMPED THE snow from her boots as she opened the back door of the manor house, grateful to be out of the cold wind. Xavier hadn’t spoken since they’d turned back from the gates, but his presence next to her had been dark and brooding. He hadn’t denied last night had been a mistake, or that it would never have happened if his plans hadn’t been changed.
It went against everything she believed in, but she still wanted him, still hungered to explore the passion that simmered, waiting for a touch or a kiss to spark it back into life. She’d given away a piece of her heart—exactly what she’d never wanted to do.
‘I have work to do this afternoon.’ His heavy accent gave away the fact that he was not as in control as he wanted her to think. She’d learnt that much about him. ‘I also need to find out when the power is likely to come back and if there is any way we can get out of here today.’
He definitely didn’t want to be with her any longer. Last night had been enough. She’d started to tell him she wanted him, that she believed they were meant to be here, but his frozen expression told her he didn’t share that view.
‘Do you think that’s possible?’ She couldn’t stay here. How could she ever have thought a fling with Xavier would help her?
He shrugged out of his coat, hung it up and looked down at her. ‘Maybe not today, tomorrow perhaps.’
The sooner they returned to reality the better. ‘I hope you are right.’ She didn’t want to be around when he tired of her, but maybe he already had.
His eyes searched hers, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her and her lips parted as her heart rate accelerated wildly. She wanted his lips on hers, wanted to be in his arms, but she couldn’t be the one to start it.
‘I’ll make something for lunch,’ she said briskly restraining her wayward desires. Her arm brushed against his as she passed him, sending a hot spark of shock through her. She had to get away from him. Maybe then she could rationalise what was happening between them. Label it and shut it away, never to be explored again. It had happened and evidently he wished it hadn’t.
With this thought in mind Tilly made herself scarce all afternoon, spending time wandering around the rest of the old house, but it was too cold to linger for long and as the afternoon began to fade she made her way to the small lounge they’d slept in last night, anxious that the electricity still wasn’t working. The thought of spending the night alone in the cold darkness of her room was like being abandoned all over again, but she couldn’t let it show.
‘Looks like we still need the candles,’ she said casually as she entered the room, to find Xavier sitting at his desk, with one candle alight and the fire burning brightly, reminding her of last night all over again.
She felt him look at her but moved to the window and stared out at the snowy landscape. It had stopped snowing, the wind had calmed and the first few stars were beginning to show themselves in the twilight sky.
He dropped his pen onto the desk, the noise making her turn to him. ‘Don’t worry, cara, I have made enquiries this afternoon. We should have the power back by nightfall.’
Relief