New Year at the Boss's Bidding

She laughed. A soft, seductive laugh that didn’t diffuse the tension, as he suspected she’d wanted it to. Instead it grew stronger, more intense. She moved away from him, away from the cream stone fireplace that must have seen many such moments over the generations.

‘You might want to reserve judgement, or even call off the whole evening. You wouldn’t be the first to do that.’ With the light-hearted warning lingering in the air, Tilly put down her flute of champagne and now that distance between them had been reinstated seemed content to make eye contact. ‘If you will excuse me for a moment, I will organise the first course.’

His first instinct was to offer to help, but after the potent exchange, loaded with pent-up passion, he needed space. If he closed his eyes, even for just a moment, he could imagine all this was real, that they were here out of choice. That not only did she want to spend the night in his bed, that he wouldn’t have to worry about the scars that had made casual nights of passion impossible since the accident.

He snapped his eyes open. Imagining such things was impossible. They could never be anything to each other—not yet at least.

* * *

Tilly returned to the lounge to see Xavier standing rigidly before the fire, his face a stern mask of irritation. Was that because he’d forgotten himself just now and flirted with her? Did he already regret offering to celebrate New Year’s Eve together?

‘Would you like to come through to the dining room?’ She injected as much professionalism as she could into those words, reminding herself that, no matter what had happened between them just now, she was still working—for him.

‘Bene.’ The word was a soft growl, an almost feral sound and his expression one of agitation, as he crossed the room.

She turned and walked towards the dining room, forgetting the daringly low cut of the back of her dress as she cursed the heels she’d once thought would be fun to wear. Now she knew her walk was slow and hoped he didn’t think she was flaunting herself in front of him. She couldn’t get to her chair fast enough.

‘Allow me.’ The hard tone of his voice spoke volumes about his annoyance at having to dine alone with her.

She must have imagined the undercurrent of sexual tension that had surrounded them after she’d arrived in the lounge. Maybe it was because she wanted this dark and dangerous attraction to him to become reality. As if putting on the dress, being here in this house with Xavier, was giving her a chance to be someone different, step away from her past and sample a world of complete fantasy for just one night.

A reckless thought raced through her mind about the romantic fling on her bucket list. Could this be the night? When she proved to herself she’d moved on from her almost wedding day? Denial careered into that wayward thought, stopping it abruptly.

She sat on her chair as he stood behind it for a moment longer. A tingle skipped down her spine and it was all she could do not to arch her back as the sensation speared warmth through her. It was as if he’d touched her, trailed his fingers down over her bare skin.

‘Thank you.’ She forced out the words and sat back against the chair, trying to stop the way her heart raced, its thumping rhythm so loud he must hear it.

‘Prego.’

Moments later Xavier sat opposite her at the festively decorated table. Candles glowed intimately and the pasta starter cooled as their gazes locked once more. What was happening to her? This new and overwhelming pull of attraction and heart-pounding desire was taking over.

He is your client. The words shouted inside her head.

‘I apologise for changing the menu a second time.’ Once she’d realised they would be eating alone she’d adapted the menu choices. Now she wished she hadn’t. Time away from his dark and powerful eyes was just what she needed—if she was to retain her usual composure.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, not saying a word, and she resisted the temptation to bite her bottom lip, the way she always did when she was anxious, in an attempt to stop herself saying silly things. Under no circumstances did she want this man to know he made her feel apprehensive. The air around them was hot and heavy, throbbing with intensity, as he finally began his food.

‘Delizioso.’ He nodded his approval and the anxiety that had been building in her all day began to slip away, enabling her to eat something at least.

As he finished his starter he sat back and looked at her, increasing her pulse rate again. ‘So tell me, Natalie. What is it you are hiding from this New Year’s Eve?’