At least they would keep his mind on the enforced New Year celebrations, although he still found it hard to accept they had coerced him into it. He knew they were upset and worried that he hadn’t celebrated Christmas with them for the last few years, but it was a time of year he now hated.
Tilly pulled off her puffy black coat, revealing her slender figure encased in tight jeans and equally well-fitted black roll neck jumper. They showed every curve to perfection, dragging him from dwelling on the past and back to that unprompted vision of her in his bed.
‘Grazie,’ he replied, as he fought with the maelstrom of emotions that scenario provoked.
What was the matter with him? He wasn’t usually this easily distracted by a woman. His attention had been caught by Tilly Rogers that first second he’d seen her. What man wouldn’t be attracted to such a beautiful woman? But he’d never been this aware of a woman within minutes of meeting. He’d never seen his now-futile hopes of happiness dangled before him so temptingly.
Already he knew she was a breath of fresh air, compared to the usual women who lived in the circles he was now moving in since arriving in London. Beneath Tilly’s smiles and laughter he sensed a vulnerability that echoed his, calling to him and drawing him inexplicably towards her.
She’d clearly set the boundaries—professional boundaries—addressing him by his surname, but he couldn’t help wishing they had met in another way. Or was it his rebellious nature, wanting what was so obviously denied him? Whichever it was, he wanted more, something he found hard to deal with.
Belatedly he realised it wouldn’t make any difference. He would have needed to have met her before the accident. No woman, not even a warm and genuine woman like Tilly Rogers, would want to be involved with him now, not once the truth came out. The scars on his legs were a constant reminder that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that he was the one with ideas above his station, which was exactly why he hadn’t done anything more than have dinner or go to a party with a woman for the last three years.
He sensed her watching him as he walked towards the kitchen windows and looked out into the courtyard. Why did he suddenly want things that were no longer possible? Things Carlotta’s reaction had forced him to deny himself? He’d seen her look of revulsion after the accident, had known she’d blamed him, and had ended it right there and then, guilt making anything else impossible. He didn’t deserve happiness after what he’d done.
‘I forgot some files,’ she said lightly, and reached to pull her keys from the pocket of the coat she’d laid over the back of a kitchen chair. ‘I’ll fetch them now.’
He watched her walk to the back door, her boot heels tapping a gentle rhythm on the tiled floor. The sway of her hips mesmerised him as if he were a teenager who’d just discovered the delights of women. He shook the haze of desire away and went to the back door to assess the weather.
He hoped it would stop snowing soon, aware his family would be convinced he’d purposely hired such a remote venue in the hope it would snow, releasing him from entering into the spirit of the season for yet another year. If he was honest with himself, escaping such gatherings was why he’d remained in England, extending his scholarship programme instead of going back to Milan and concentrating on his motorbike factory.
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?