The Mills & Boon Sparkling Christmas Collection

‘Is it that bad out there?’ She shivered and he reached for the faux fur throw that was draped over the sofa.

Her eyes widened as he moved towards her, vulnerability on full display in their blue depths. Every barrier she’d erected against him was down. This was the real Tilly.

‘This will keep you warm.’ He put the throw around her and couldn’t help but inhale her perfume. Light and floral, not at all like the seductive scent of last night, but it was just as alluring.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, the husky sound testing him, reminding him again how she’d tasted last night, how her body had felt against his. The frustration of last night not having reached the conclusion he’d wanted raged inside him, but he pushed it back. He had no right to want more from her.

He sat down next to her, ignoring the pain in his legs, wanting to be close to her. The usually bubbly Tilly had disappeared. She was fearful and he was convinced it was more than just the storm she feared.

‘You’re in pain,’ she said softly, concern all over her face.

‘A constant reminder of the accident.’ He couldn’t keep the sternness from his voice as he tried not to remember his split-second lack of concentration that had caused the crash.

‘Sorry.’ She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes, her blue eyes soft and inviting. He curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for her. He needed the pain to remind him that his actions had caused Paulo’s death, leaving a widow and young children. He didn’t need her misplaced sympathy.

He sat next to her, the heat of the fire seeping into him as if he were on a sun-drenched beach. He stretched out his legs and leant his back against the sofa. Beside him, Tilly moved, drawing herself closer, as if seeking protection and safety from the darkness. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her, drawing her close. It felt so right, as if he’d come home.

‘How did the accident happen?’ Her voice was a whisper, stirring his senses as well as soothing his pain.

He didn’t want her to know what he’d done, but for the first time ever he needed to tell someone, needed to talk. ‘It was a wet race,’ he began, sliding back into the horror of that day. ‘The track was slick and like most riders I’d had my tyres changed. The team wanted to make other adjustments but I wouldn’t allow it, not when all the other riders were out there. Part of the excitement is being in the starting line-up, engines revving and adrenalin flowing.’

She didn’t speak or look at him, as if knowing he didn’t want that. Instead she relaxed against his chest and focused her gaze on the fire. He lowered his face into her hair and inhaled the fresh smell of shampoo. But even that couldn’t hold him in the present, stop him from hurtling back to that nightmare day.

He was there at the track, the noise of bikes, the smell of fuel and the rush of adrenalin so clear. The usual exchanges between teammates filled the air and in the pit lane he waited for those adjustments to his bike. He wanted to get out into the line-up, but the mechanics were still working and he became impatient. His competitors revved their bikes, the sound a challenge. He told his team to hurry.

‘I rushed the pit team to hurry the wet-weather modifications just so I could get out onto the track. There was no way I was missing the race, not when the championship was at stake.’

Tilly moved slightly, picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, shattering the image of the track in his mind. She looked up at him, her lovely face slightly flushed from the heat of the fire. What would she say when she knew it was his fault a rider had died, because of him and his insistence the bike be ready to race?

She was so close he could see the darker flecks within the summer sky blue of her eyes, which had sparked with passion last night. He could feel the warmth of her legs against his as she curled up inside the throw, snuggling closer, unwittingly testing him.

He wanted to keep her against him, needing the comfort of her body and so much more.

‘Aren’t things like that strictly timed?’ she asked, her brows raised in question, genuine curiosity in her voice. ‘I was always under the impression the pit teams were trained to be fast.’

‘Do I detect a little bit of interest in motorcycle racing?’ He smiled at her, despite the heavy cloud of memories which hung over him.

‘Not really, sorry.’ Her smile was apologetic as she looked up at him, but it shone in her eyes briefly before it was gone. ‘Jason used to follow all kinds of motorsport.’

Jason again. Damn the man.

‘I’m sorry.’ She placed her glass on the hearth and touched his arms, which were tightly folded across his chest. Was that to avoid touching her or to keep her at bay—emotionally? ‘Talking about the accident must be hard.’

‘It is.’ He seized on the deviation in the conversation. ‘My career ended that day and my life changed—for ever.’

‘But you are doing so much good with the scholarship programme.’ She looked into his face, drawing him from the blackness of the mood that lingered with more threat than the gale-force winds outside the manor house.

‘You know about that?’

She blushed deeply. ‘Naturally I research my clients.’

His lips stiffened into a firm line. How much more did she know about him? ‘And did you find your research adequate?’

‘I didn’t look for salacious gossip if that’s what you mean.’

‘You mean the sort of gossip we are creating at this very moment, alone in a remote house?’

He moved forward, drawn by those very kissable lips, wanting nothing more than to feel them beneath his again. She didn’t move, her gaze holding his, questions and anticipation swirling within them.

‘Are we creating gossip?’ Her husky whisper nearly tipped him over the edge and it was all he could do not to kiss her until neither of them wanted to stop.

‘There isn’t anyone here to say a word to the outside world.’ He searched her face, looking for a hint of the desire that flowed like hot lava through his body. ‘Nobody will ever know what we do.’

She glanced at the flickering candles, then back to him. ‘It’s like being in another time or place, somewhere reality can’t reach.’

Tentatively, as if he were reaching for a skittish animal, he caressed her face, the backs of his fingers brushing down the softness of her cheek. ‘We are surrounded by darkness, nothing can reach us.’

‘It’s a little scary being in this old house on such a stormy night.’ The cracked whisper almost broke his control, but he managed to resist the urge to hold her against him, to kiss and caress away her fears.

‘There is nothing to fear, cara.’ He pushed her hair back gently from her face, relishing the thick glossy length falling through his fingers.

Those blue eyes searched his face briefly but as his hand pressed against the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, she moved towards him. He saw her eyelashes flutter closed and then his lips were against hers, the electrifying pulse racing through him. With a groan of pleasure he wrapped the other arm around her, pulling her against him so that she was almost on his legs.

He could feel the heat of her body, every curve pressing into him, reawakening the need she’d stirred last night. One so strong he’d never known anything like it before.

He wanted her—tonight.

* * *

Tilly sighed as he deepened the kiss and pulled her close. She knew she shouldn’t surrender to his kiss, as she had done last night. His reassurance that she had nothing to fear had pushed her over an edge she realised she’d been balancing on, not just since last night but since the moment she’d seen him standing in the doorway yesterday, looking so sexy and mildly amused. It had been almost like love at first sight. Not that she thought such a thing was possible, not with a man like Xavier, but what was possible was a romantic fling. All she had to do was let go of her insecurities, be someone else, be spontaneous, free herself of her fear of passion and give herself to this man—just for one night.

That was what she wanted, what she needed. To be kissed by him, held by him, but more than that she wanted to be loved by him just for one night. Tonight they were in another world, a place far away from time and untouched by reality.

As that thought meandered through her mind, Xavier’s groan of pleasure sent sparks flying around her body and the mesmerising throb of desire that was building deep inside her began to bubble up, leaving her in no doubt where this moment would end.

‘You taste so delicious, cara.’ He pressed a flurry of tantalising kisses down her throat, hindered by her roll neck jumper, and pressed her forehead against his, her hair mingling with his. If she tasted delicious, he smelt it.

She let out a ragged and startled breath as he took her face between both of his hands, forcing her to look deep into his desire-laden eyes. ‘This moment was meant for us, bella Natalie. Questo momento è per noi.’

His husky and heavy accent together with the use of Italian sealed her fate. All she wanted was to throw caution to the wailing wind and abandon herself to him and the moment, to let go of everything and do what she wanted without a thought for what would come after. She wanted to love Xavier, in every possible way. Tonight she was his—and he was hers.

‘Xavier.’ She whispered his name, unsure if it was a question or a demand. She should tell him, warn him she had no experience, that she was a virgin, but his eyes met hers, so dark she thought she would drown in them, and she couldn’t say anything.

His lips claimed hers, hard and demanding, sending fire scorching through her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with a need she’d never known before. This wasn’t the staid kisses she’d shared with Jason. This was pure explosive passion.

His tongue slid into her mouth, seeking hers. It was wild and erotic. The pulse of wanton desire rose inside her and she craved more, so much more. She matched his passion, her tongue entwining with his until she thought she might burst into flames.

He pushed her down onto the rug, the rumpled throw beneath her, but she kept her arms around his neck, pulling him with her until she could feel him pressing against her. His chest, which expanded with deep and fast breaths, pressed against her breasts and with one leg between hers she could feel the hardness of his erection against her thigh.

Every nerve ending in her body responded as she enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms, being kissed by him. He stopped kissing her and, brushing her hair away from her face, looked down at her. ‘I want you, Natalie, and, I’m not going to be able to stop if I continue to kiss you like this.’ The words were thick with passion, a hint of unsteadiness in them.

‘Then kiss me.’ The husky whisper that came from her was something she’d never heard before but, then, she’d never been so consumed by passion before. The whole experience was new and exciting. She’d never been intimate with a man and had had no idea it could be like this. ‘Kiss me, Xavier.’

The fierceness of the last kiss was gone, replaced now by something more gentle yet infinitely more exciting. As his lips teased hers, his hand slid under her jumper, the heat of his touch on her skin so extreme she gasped in a startled breath. His kiss deepened, his tongue entwining with hers as his hand covered her breast, his fingers trailing along the edge of her bra, making her breasts ache for his touch.

He moved himself down her body and kissed her exposed stomach, pushing her jumper ever higher until all she wanted was to feel his kisses on her breasts, tasting each hardened peak. She closed her eyes against the pleasure, a soft sigh of contentment slipping between her lips as he continued to tease her, kissing lower, nearing the fastening of her jeans.

It was exquisite.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and he looked at her, his passion filled eyes holding a question. She couldn’t speak, but instead took the bottom of her jumper and lifted up her arms, bringing the black roll neck over her head. She dropped it at her side and partially unclothed in jeans and a black bra, boldly stayed there as his hungry gaze devoured her.

‘Sei una bella donna.’ Each wonderfully sexy word was more like a harsh growl and she knew he was hanging onto his control by a thread. It excited and amazed her to think she was responsible. This was definitely spontaneous.

He moved towards her, kissed her lips then down her throat. She leant back on her arms, her head dropping back as his kisses moved downwards. Her heart hammered when he moved lower and kissed the swell of first one breast then the other. It was so nice she began to shake.

‘You are cold?’ He stopped and looked at her, concern obvious in his face.

‘No, I’m not cold,’ she sighed. She wasn’t cold, just afraid of what she was about to do, even though she wanted it more than anything.

He smiled knowingly at her, but glanced at the fire. ‘A few more logs will keep us warmer for longer, no?’

She didn’t need the fire to keep her warm, not when the one he’d started was raging inside her. As he moved away, she watched him, wanting nothing more than to see his body, feel his skin against hers. The thought sent her pulse racing.

He put more logs on the fire, coaxing the flames until they leapt in a crazy dance, licking around the wood. She was just like those pieces of wood, becoming totally engulfed by the scorching flames of desire.

This wasn’t at all what she’d thought she would be doing tonight. Never had she imagined she’d be enjoying the caress of a man who could make her pulse leap with just one casual glance. A romantic fling might be on her list, but she’d never thought it would happen, never believed she could really go through with it.

‘That’s quite a fire now,’ she teased as he turned back to her, the intention of moments ago still lingering in his expression. ‘Looks like we will be here for some time.’

His gaze travelled down her, making her skin tingle as if he’d touched her. ‘I have every intention of being here with you for as long as possible, cara.’

She watched as he walked around behind the sofa to the desk he’d been working at earlier. He opened his briefcase with a click and she heard papers being moved, then a box being opened. His gaze met hers as he put a foil packet in his jeans pocket, his intention clear. This was her last chance to stop this. But she couldn’t. Tonight she was his, all her inhibitions were banished. She needed this passion, wanted to taste it and savour it so it would last for ever.

She blushed, her boldness of moments ago evaporating like raindrops in the desert. As he came back to her and pulled off his jumper then his shirt, she swallowed hard. The glow from the fire bronzed his skin, highlighting his each and every muscle to complete perfection.

She bit down on her bottom lip, totally out of her depth. He was so passionately in control and she was a virgin. Would he know? Her hungry gaze roved all over his body, pushing away her doubts as her fingers ached to touch him. She noticed the livid scarring that started at his side and went down, hidden by the denim of his jeans.

Aware of him watching her, she looked back into his face. He looked at her suspiciously, his jaw clenched hard, and she struggled to find something to say to defuse the tension.

‘I hope we’ll be here all night like this,’ she finally said softly, picking up the conversation where it had stopped before he’d stripped off to the waist.

He turned back to the fireplace and blew out the candles, leaving only the fire to light the room. A prickle of fear chased over her as his action unintentionally pushed her further out of her comfort zone.

‘It’s a bit dark.’ Her heart was thudding in her chest and she couldn’t decide if it was because of seeing Xavier semi-naked or the darkness he’d plunged them into.

‘I only need firelight to see your beautiful body and it is so much more...’ he pondered for a moment and she waited, not daring to move ‘...romantic?’

Did a man like Xavier do romantic? If her pulse wasn’t racing so wildly and he wasn’t moving towards her, passionate intent sparking in his eyes, she’d have said no. But right now nothing else mattered. She didn’t care about the past, which lurked in every shadowed corner of the room, or the future, which she’d yet to discover. This was the romantic fling she needed to move on in life.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE SMELL OF freshly extinguished candles filled the room but all Xavier could think of was taking Tilly in his arms, kissing her all over, exploring every bit of her delicious body. He wanted her naked beneath him as he made her his.

She seemed nervous and he resolved to be gentle, to coax out the desire he knew burned within her and show her she was a beautiful and passionate woman, sure that Jason’s rejection would have filled her with self-doubt, an emotion he knew well.

He knelt down next to her, a twinge of pain in his leg reminding him, if he needed it, why he preferred she didn’t see him undressed under bright lights. He had no wish to frighten her further. He didn’t want her running from him, not tonight, not when he intended to take what they’d started last night to its conclusion. ‘What is wrong, mia cara?’

‘Nothing,’ she whispered huskily, as she knelt up and moved towards him. ‘Not now.’

He took her in his arms, bringing her closer to him and in one swift movement pulled her to sit astride his legs, her arms around his neck, her breasts level with his face. He watched the soft swell of them moving up and down with each breath, resisting the urge to discard her bra and taste first one nipple then the other.

‘There is no need to be afraid of anything, cara...’ Instantly she tensed in his arms, her legs no longer relaxed and heavy against him. She was still resisting him, still reasoning over her actions when she should just give in to him and enjoy the night for what it was.

‘Being here like this, with just the fire, it’s not something I’ve done before.’ She lowered her lashes, their long length sweeping down to spread over her cheeks. She was still hiding from him.

Gently he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘Would you like me to light the candles again?’ He didn’t want to do that. It would expose his scars, his hang-ups and fears. He was damn sure she wouldn’t stay around once she saw the full horror of how badly scarred his legs were. She would be gone. For the first time in three years he was prepared to take the risk and make love to a woman, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to see his scars.

‘No. There’s no need.’ She shook her head slowly and began to relax. He felt her limbs soften and a burst of hot lust shot through him as she leant towards him. His fingers still held her chin and he guided her closer until their lips were almost touching—almost kissing.

‘You look like a goddess in this light.’ His husky whisper shuddered from him as he fought to hold his control, wanting to savour this moment. She was so different from all the women who virtually threw themselves at his feet with alarming regularity.

Tilly needed to be handled with care. She needed him to be gentle and considerate and the idea sent desire hurtling through him. She deserved more than a frantic tumble to satisfy a lust-filled moment but he was past rational thought now.

He felt her breath on his face, her body against his, and knew she wanted to be loved. She deserved to be, but he couldn’t love her, not in that way. He shouldn’t even be kissing her. But he wanted her, needed her, as if only she could breathe life back into his battered body and tortured soul.

‘Right now, I feel like a goddess.’ The gentle purr of her voice pushed his control to the breaking point and he claimed her lips in a hard and demanding kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, gripping it as he focused on keeping her where he wanted her, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She lifted her head, a ragged gasp rushing from her, and he moved his attentions to the hardened peaks of her nipples, clearly visible through her bra.

‘Dio mio, you are beautiful.’ The throaty rasp of his voice almost broke as she took a deep breath in, her breasts moving closer to him, teasing him so much he began to question just who was in control. Her or him?

Heady lust hurtled through him as he pressed his lips against the creamy swell of one breast, feeling each deep breath she took and the thumping of her heart. His hand cupped the other, his thumb rubbing over her nipple as it strained against the lacy fabric covering it.

‘Xavier.’ The husky whisper of his name snapped that last thread of control and he let go of her hair, reached to the fastening of her bra and snapped it open, freeing each delectable breast for his attention.

Her fingers clutched at his hair as he kissed one nipple, teasing it until she was shuddering with desire, each breath she took as deep and ragged as his. His tongue swirled around it, tasting her.

‘Too much,’ she gasped between increasingly shallow breaths.

‘Too much?’ He pulled back from her and looked up at her flushed face. ‘Should I stop, cara?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ She sighed and looked down at him and he realised he’d nearly pushed her over the edge. It was as if she was discovering the joy of such pleasures for the first time, and had never sampled the delights of passion. ‘No, don’t. This is on my list.’

He puzzled over the words whispered in a throaty way that left him in no doubt she was losing the battle of resistance. ‘This in on your list?’

‘Yes, but don’t stop.’

Her fingers curled tighter in his hair, pushing him to a new limit, and with gentleness he moved her from him, trying not to acknowledge the pain of having knelt on the floor, and pushed her down against the throw that was spread out over the rug.

She lay back, her gaze holding his all the time, a hint of a question lingering beneath the sparks of passion.

‘We will take it slowly,’ he said as he lowered his head and kissed the flatness of her stomach, his hands holding her waist. He straddled her as he moved upwards, tasting her with each kiss.

She clutched at his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh. He moved higher still and once more kissed her breasts, nipping at the hardened peaks, relishing the gasps of pleasure that escaped those full lips.

He kissed a trail up her throat until he could once more claim her lips in a hard and demanding kiss. She pulled him down on top of her and wrapped her jeans-clad legs around his. The hardness of his erection strained against the confines of his jeans but he enjoyed the wild and erotic sensation of being partially clothed, of being able to feel her beneath him.

It was explosive. New and exciting.

Her hands slid down his back, her fingertips finding the beginnings of the scarring on his right side. He tensed as she paused briefly in her trail of exploration across his back. She hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t asked the dreaded question. How did this happen? He pressed kisses over her face, the side of her neck and against her ears, thankful she hadn’t broken the spell or killed the passion between them.

He wanted her naked, completely naked. He pushed back from her, kneeling up to unfasten her jeans. Her hair splayed out around her as she watched him, tempting and seducing him with her innocent eyes while lifting her hips to help. He moved back on his knees, pulling the denim and her slipper-like shoes away until she wore only a skimpy pair of black panties.

He groaned at the need to set himself free of his ever-tightening jeans. Her eyes, darker with each passing second, watched him intently, as if aware of his torture. They goaded him, urged him to remove every last barrier between them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He didn’t want the battered part of his body to ruin the moment.

Instead, he turned his attention to giving her the pleasure she craved. He touched the black lace panties with the tip of one finger, moving down over her, the damp fabric arousing his ardour higher and higher.

She moved against him, testing his control beyond any limits he’d known before. He slipped his finger inside the damp black lace, teasing her heated flesh until she writhed against him. Within seconds she gasped as spasms of pleasure rocked her body. He ceased his teasing and ripped off his jeans and underwear as she lay, eyes closed in pleasure.

* * *

Tilly couldn’t stop shaking. She’d lost all control of her body—and it was so good. In a faraway place she knew what it was, knew that for the first time she’d exploded with pleasure, from just a touch. A very expert and practised touch.

As the waves of passion ebbed over her she closed her eyes, unsure what to do next. She felt Xavier move away, heard the sound of denim dropping to the floor and with stars of ecstasy still in her head she couldn’t do or say anything but tremble with lingering desire.

Seconds later Xavier was beside her, pulling the other throw over them. He was naked. Completely naked. The heated hardness of his erection pressed against her hip and she couldn’t help the smile of contentment that tugged at her lips.

He wanted her. Desired her.

She turned towards him as he pulled her against him, the blackness of his eyes so intense, so full of unquenched desire she knew she was lost. He pressed himself against her, forcing a ragged breath through her lips, which he caught with a kiss so powerful she almost cried out.

Driven by something new and wild, she pushed against him, rolling him onto his back, until she was over him, able the feel him close to her, almost touching yet not quite.

‘Stuzzicare!’ His eyes locked with hers and his jaw clenched as if he was desperately trying to stay in control.

‘What does that mean?’ The seductive whisper surprised even her and she pressed her fingertips against his stomach, tracing the arrow of dark hair downwards, wanting to use her new-found power over him and make him dissolve as rapidly as she had done from his touch.

‘Tease!’ He ground the word out as he fought against her need to rob him of all his self-control, until she touched his heated hardness, her fingers closing around him, each movement making her feel more powerful, more in control.

His hand caught her arm and she looked deep into his eyes, seeing the battle between ecstasy and control being waged there. ‘We have all night, cara.’

She smiled and quirked a brow at him, shocked to discover the mischievous imp that lurked within her. She tried to pull her wrist free, but he held her tightly and before she could say anything had pushed her back onto the throw. Quickly and expertly he rolled on a condom then covered her body with his. She smiled impishly at him, and teased him by moving her hips, pressing herself against him. He shut his eyes and raised his head. She reached up and kissed his chest, feeling the guttural groan as well as hearing it.

‘You teased me first.’ She lifted her legs, wrapping them around him, the throw slipping away so she could feel the heat of the fire. The tip of his erection touched her and his body seemed gripped by rigidity, every muscle fighting against her new-found seductress.

Emboldened, she rotated her hips, sliding her hands over his back, feeling the tension there, wishing he would let go and give in to the moment, as she was. She wanted him inside her, deep inside her.

A harsh torrent of Italian, so fast she couldn’t possibly understand it, rushed from him as she lifted her hips higher and took him inside her. She closed her eyes against the building fire that threatened to explode when he thrust into her. She cried out with shocked pleasure as he filled her, moving with her until their bodies became damp and their cries mingled in the darkness.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal and he kissed her face softly, pulling her into the warmth of his body. The heat of the fire warmed her back as she lay facing him, looking into dark eyes that still smouldered with passion. She shivered as a tremor of shock slipped over her. She’d given herself to him, not just her virginity but her heart. She’d thought one night would be uncomplicated, but he’d taken a little piece of her heart.

Beyond the walls of the manor the wind wailed. ‘I’ve never done that before,’ she whispered, and moved instinctively closer to him, suddenly aware of what she’d told him. ‘Been so spontaneous, I mean.’

He looked at her, desire still filling his eyes, but a hint of suspicion lingered there too. ‘I know.’

She tried for bravado, desperate to hide how vulnerable she felt right now. ‘No, but I guess I can tick that off my list now.’

‘You should have told me you were a virgin.’ He brushed his fingers along her shoulder, the expression on his face full of disbelief. ‘I assumed that as you’d been engaged you would have made love before.’

Embarrassment raced over her as his fingers trailed lightly and slowly down her spine, his words unlocking the past with alarming speed. ‘I guess I always pushed Jason away, determined not to be left broken-hearted, like my mother.’

He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask her to enlarge on it, but being so far removed from reality she couldn’t stop the words flowing out. ‘After my father died my mother met a new man. He made her happy but I just saw it a way of mending her heart and replacing my father.’

‘Sorry.’ He whispered that one word against her hair as he pulled her close, as if he was trying to chase away her demons.