‘Just letting Vanessa know I’m heading back to London. We’ll catch up at her party.’ Her face looked a little pale but she smiled brightly at him, her excitement for her friend showing clearly. Or was it that they were on their way home and she would be free of him?
He looked out at the passing countryside, white and unrecognisable, admitting that whatever strange emotion she’d evoked in him, he wasn’t looking for any kind of commitment. How could he when most nights the accident filled his dreams and the pain remained in his legs as a constant reminder. The last two nights had been dream-free. He stifled a growl of anger. He didn’t deserve the love of a woman when he’d deprived another of the man she loved because of the need to win a race.
Finally the snowy countryside gave way to suburban scenes and he knew there wouldn’t be much longer to endure this feeling of being tortured. He’d say goodbye, make it clear it was exactly that and walk away. Whatever he was beginning to feel for her, she deserved better.
‘Not long now,’ she said, her soft words dragging him from his thoughts. He didn’t recognise the streets they were in and tried not to notice where they were going. He didn’t want to know where she lived.
‘It’s good to be back,’ he lied, hoping the harshness of his words would leave her in no doubt it was over between them. This was his way of protecting them both from the hot passion and tender love they’d shared that could never be repeated.
‘Yes. It is.’ Her soft voice held a hint of regret.
The driver pulled over and before he’d had a chance to stop himself he looked out at the street they were in. Damn. He didn’t want to see its name, didn’t want it imprinted on his mind so he could imagine her here. He wanted it to remain just an anonymous London street. He needed to keep her for ever in the snowy manor, in his memory at least.
‘I’ll walk you to your door.’ He was out of the vehicle before she could argue and as he pulled her case out she joined him.
‘There’s no need Xavier, please.’ The defiant lift of her chin reminded him of the first time he’d wanted to kiss her.
The firmness of her words also held a warning. She didn’t want to prolong them being together at all, or for him to know exactly where she lived.
‘Va bene. Then I say goodbye and thank you.’
‘Thank you?’ Her soft lips parted, unwittingly inviting his kiss, and he clenched his hands tightly against the need to take that kiss.
‘It was a very memorable New Year’s Eve, despite the circumstances that forced us together.’ He knew he sounded brisk and indifferent, he could see the shock in her eyes, but he was reminding himself he couldn’t have more.
‘We’re back in London now and our time at the manor stays there. Remember?’ There was a slight wobble to her voice and a question in her eyes. He fought hard against the urge to tell her that he wanted more, if only guilt would set him free, but he couldn’t tell her. She’d calmly told him he was nothing more than a tick on her list. A fling to get over the man who’d broken her heart.
‘Sì, cara. I remember. Arrivederci, Natalie.’ Pride kept him from saying anything—and fear of rejection.
* * *
‘Goodbye, Signor Moretti.’ Tilly’s legs were weak as she stood there, looking into the handsome face of the man she loved. She wanted to tell him not to go, tell him something special had started, something they shouldn’t let go of, but the fierce glitter in his eyes kept her words from forming.
He hadn’t hidden the fact that all he’d expected had been a brief affair, company during the hours of darkness. She’d used the same excuse herself, but it had been a way of justifying how he’d swept her away that first moment their eyes had met. She’d labelled it a bucket list fling in her mind, one Jason had pushed her into. But if she was honest she knew it was more.
She picked up her small overnight bag and clutched the dress she’d draped over her arm as if it were a lifeline. Never again could she wear it, or even look at it.
She turned and walked towards the main door of her flat. The building was familiar and should have steadied her nerves, but it didn’t. Nothing in London seemed to have changed—but she had.
‘Tilly?’
Hope flared to life inside her at the tentative tone of his voice as she turned back to look at him. Tell me, she thought as she watched various emotions cross his face. Tell me you want me—that you’ve fallen in love with me.