New Year at the Boss's Bidding

The temptation to fulfil the romantic fling she’d added to her bucket list intensified. Hastily she pushed that thought aside. If she did have that fling, it wouldn’t be with a man who had no other choice but her. It would have to be with a man who truly desired her—for that night at least.

‘I appreciate your invitation,’ she said, boldly holding his gaze, trying not to read too much into the intensity there. ‘It’s a change to be able to sit and enjoy the food and wine—and wear this.’

She’d added a touch of humour, trying to lighten the mood, but judging by the smouldering look in his eyes had failed completely. All she’d done had been to draw his attention to her.

‘You look very beautiful this evening.’ His words were soft and caressing, but she didn’t miss the fierceness deep within them. ‘Molto bella.’

She looked away into the orange flicker of the flames, feeling herself blush again. Did he have to keep slipping into delicious and seductive Italian? ‘Thank you, but I don’t think the lady in your life would be very impressed to hear you say that.’

To her surprise he laughed and she looked at him again, irritated to be the focus of his amusement. He walked to a small table, picked the champagne bottle from its bucket of iced water, refilled both crystal flutes and then sat at the other end of the sofa.

‘There isn’t a woman in my life.’

‘But I thought...’ she began, then stopped. Images she’d seen on the internet of the beautiful brunette who’d accompanied him to a party were still clear in her mind. Then she remembered his reputation. He was not a man to settle down.

He stretched out his long legs and relaxed back into the corner of the sofa, one arm draped along the back, his hand unnervingly close to her. ‘You thought I was in a relationship?’

‘Well, yes, actually I did.’ She couldn’t keep the flustered tone from her voice, unable to decide if it was the topic of conversation or the fact that she could feel her bare back burning because his hand was close as it rested on the cushions behind her. And his legs, long and strong, stretched out towards her, all but trapping her.

‘After ending a long-term relationship, I prefer to remain uncommitted.’ His message was clear. He only looked for brief affairs, just as his reputation had suggested. Even more reason not to get charmed into something she would regret.

‘I see,’ she said quietly, and looked down into her glass, watching the bubbles rising to the surface then disappearing, wondering if she really would regret a kiss from this man.

His sudden movement as he leant forward nearly made her spill her champagne and she drew in a sharp breath, but as her eyes met with the darkness in his, her pulse leapt. ‘I’m sure that after last year you feel the same too.’

‘If by that you mean I have had a string of meaningless love affairs, you are very much mistaken. I am not that sort of woman.’ Indignation rushed over her as words of defence hurtled from her. What would his reaction be if she told him she was a virgin?

Confusion muddled her as her earlier thoughts of having a fling with him burned shamelessly in her mind. She wanted to jump up, leave the room, but something kept her there. Something she didn’t want to accept kept her there with Xavier, sharing a moment she knew would never have happened if events hadn’t conspired against them, cutting them off from the real world.

‘I know,’ he said softly, his increasingly black eyes looking into hers, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. ‘That is why I didn’t give in to the temptation to kiss you, even though you wanted me to.’

‘You arrogant...’ The contents of her flute spilt onto her dress as she jumped up to get away from this self-assured man, unbalancing in an attempt to avoid his legs. Instinctively she reached out to save herself, only to find his arms around her, pulling her against the firmness of his body as he leapt to his feet.

‘You were saying?’ The humour in his voice fuelled the furious fire that raged inside her. It wasn’t just fury at his assumption that he could have kissed her, it was anger at herself. He must have known, as they’d stood looking out at the snowy landscape this morning, that she’d wanted him to kiss her.

She glared up at him, her breathing deep and hard as he held her against him, the thin silk of her dress little protection from the heat of his body. She could feel the strength of his arms as they held her. Her heart thumped so hard she was sure he’d not only hear it but feel it too.