New Year at the Boss's Bidding
‘Your charm and flirtatious manner might work with other women, but it will not work with me.’ She should push him away, prove the point, but she couldn’t. Her body was acting against her mind, seeking what it wanted, not what was best.
‘Because you are still in love with the man you should have married?’ His eyes narrowed as he frowned, but the spark of desire within them couldn’t be concealed.
‘Yes,’ she lied. Surely he’d let her go if he thought that. It was the best form of defence, even though now she’d finally realised what she and Jason had shared had been friendship, not love. ‘And because I am here as your caterer, not your latest conquest.’
* * *
‘I don’t believe you.’ Xavier looked into Tilly’s blue eyes, seeing them swirl with desire, echoing the hum within his body. Was that possible if she was still in love with another man? Wouldn’t she have pushed him away? She certainly wouldn’t look so sexy and kissable, her lips parting in invitation as she held his gaze. If her heart loved another man her eyes would be blazing with indignation, not desire.
‘Well, it’s true,’ she said firmly, finally pushing against him.
He let her go, resisting the temptation to taste those full lips, but her eyes looked so full of desire, so brimming with passion yet to be tasted, it was almost impossible. She was right about being his hired help and he’d respect that—for now.
She bent and brushed her hand over the champagne mark on her dress and he knew it was to avoid looking at him, preventing him seeing what had been shining from her eyes. She couldn’t hide that raw passion and desire. It was too late.
‘Then why are you here tonight? Why aren’t you with this Jason, telling him how much you love him?’ he taunted mercilessly. He couldn’t help himself. Natalie Rogers was doing untold things to him, forcing a new emotion that felt very much like jealousy to the fore.
She stood up straight, the worry of her dress abandoned, but her irritation with him clearly not. ‘Need I remind you again? I’m here, working—for you.’
The feisty tone of her voice brought a smile to his face, which, to his amusement, antagonised her further. ‘More champagne? You cannot toast in the New Year with an empty glass. Midnight is minutes away—as is the end of your contract.’
For a moment he thought she was going to refuse. Her eyes sparked with passion-induced anger and he wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman. The black silk of her dress seemed sculpted over her breasts, which rose and fell with each breath.
She was beautiful. Perfect.
She was also a reminder of all he didn’t deserve to have.
‘Just one more glass.’ Her husky whisper pulled him back from those thoughts, from the need to punish and deprive himself of happiness or love. He didn’t deserve either, not when one mistake—his mistake—had snatched Paulo’s life and with it the happiness of an entire family.
‘Grazie,’ he said, his voice rough and rasping as he pushed the demons away, not wanting them tormenting him tonight. He poured the last of the champagne into each flute, feeling her gaze on him. What would she think of him if she knew the truth? Would the hot sizzle of desire she couldn’t quite conceal still radiate from her? Or would she be like Carlotta? Cold and disgusted?
‘Thank you.’ She took the flute of champagne from him but couldn’t meet his gaze, her long dark lashes lowering over her eyes, locking him out.
He strode over to the fire, placed his champagne on the mantelpiece and tossed another log onto the fire, stoking the flames, making them leap, matching the way his desire for her had burst into life from the thought of just one kiss.
‘You must be regretting taking this contract.’ He spoke firmly as he looked into the fire, its heat matching that which still pumped around his body.
‘I took the job because I didn’t want to be forced to party and celebrate—or remember.’ Her voice was unwavering, the husky whisper of moments ago gone, replaced by total strength.
‘He is a fool.’ He growled the words out and turned to look at her. ‘To throw away a woman like you.’
‘It wasn’t quite like that,’ she said, and moved towards him, drawn by the warmth of the fire. The clock in the hall chimed, marking the last fifteen minutes of the year, and she looked up at him. ‘We’d been together since school and I suppose we drifted into wedding plans, not wanting to disappoint our families. It was always expected we’d marry.’