New Year at the Boss's Bidding

Her gaze rested on the black silk dress she’d draped over the chair last night and she closed her eyes in resignation as her memory cleared. She had kissed him. She’d thought he would be her fling, but she’d been unable to do it.

Her cheeks burned as the scene played out again in her mind. She could hear his deep sexy voice as they’d stood in the lounge, telling her that her contract was almost over. He’d used a celebratory New Year kiss to get past her guard. But celebration had definitely not been on her mind as she’d very daringly responded to him. After making it clear she was here in a professional capacity, she had been the one who’d taken it too far.

With her mind in turmoil, she slipped from the bed and pulled aside the heavy curtains, the cold from the leaded windows making her shiver, but at least it wasn’t snowing. Hopefully she could try and get to Vanessa’s house today. She had to be at the engagement party. There was no way she wanted to upset her friend, make her feel guilty for finding love and happiness, even if it did nudge at her own failings. More importantly she had to get away from the man who’d opened up the door to thoughts she should never have had.

She took clean jeans and a jumper from the case, wishing she’d had the forethought to put them to warm on the radiator last night. Almost haphazardly, she tossed everything else back into the case before closing it and turned her attention to the dress. Whatever had made her dash out and choose such a garment? As she’d put it on last night she’d really wanted Xavier to notice her and now she blushed at that idea.

Leaving the case and her dress, packed into its garment cover, on her bed, ready for a quick getaway, she left the room. A heavy silence filled the house as she walked along the corridor to the stairs, each window she passed offering a gorgeous view of the snowy parkland, but she didn’t have time for that. She needed to pack her catering things and load the van—getting to Vanessa’s engagement party was her priority.

She looked at the Christmas tree as she came to the bottom of the stairs, its bright decorations mocking her. For the second year in a row New Year’s Eve had been a disaster. Both times it had been her fault. Either passion, or lack of it, had completely messed things up.

Walking down the corridor to the kitchen, she felt a blast of icy air and seeing the back door wide open went to close it, but not before she’d surveyed the depth of the snow and ascertained if there was any hope of getting her van out.

It looked unlikely. Snow had been driven by the wind, banking up against the wall of the courtyard and almost along one entire side of her van. Xavier’s sporty number, so covered in snow it was unrecognisable, would most definitely not be going anywhere.

Large footprints trailed through the white blanket of snow, towards one of the stone outbuildings on the opposite side of the courtyard. What was Xavier doing?

As if conjured up by her thoughts, he emerged from the barn, his arms full of logs. He looked as if he was preparing to stay for a long time. Did he not want to rush back to London? He paused briefly when he saw her. ‘Buon giorno, Natalie.’

How could he sound so...? She struggled for the right word. Unaffected? After last night she had no idea how to act with him. How did you greet a man when you had all but thrown yourself at him the night before?

‘Are you staying here longer?’ Puzzlement filled her voice as she stood back to let him past, trying to ignore the heat building in her cheeks.

He stacked the logs against the wall just inside the back door, adding to those he must have already brought in. He didn’t pause in his task, but the firmness of his voice warned her against disagreement. ‘We are staying longer.’

‘We?’ she gasped the word out in shock. ‘I can’t stay here. Not with you. Not after last night.’

He straightened, wiped his hands against each other and looked down at her, irritation plainly etched on his face. Suddenly the narrow passageway between the back door and the kitchen felt far too claustrophobic. He overpowered her completely. The scent of his aftershave nudged at memories of last night.

‘Unless you want to dig out your van and the mile or so of driveway then, yes, we are staying.’ There wasn’t a trace of the gentleness she’d heard in his voice last night. She should be glad of that, but it still hurt to think he could kiss her so tenderly then just hours later almost dismiss her. It had been nothing more than just a New Year kiss, as he’d told her. One already forgotten—by him at least.

‘But if I could get to the road...’ she began, then, as his lips formed a hard line and he shook his head, she went on, ‘The road is clear, isn’t it?’