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The resigned tone of her voice, the acceptance of what she’d just said didn’t fit with her earlier declarations of love for the man who’d left her. ‘Yet you love him still?’
‘Yes.’ She looked down at her glass before taking a sip. ‘He was my childhood sweetheart. I will always love him.’
‘You should not waste your love on a man who walked away from you.’ Involuntarily he took a step towards her, the connection between them strengthening. They both knew the pain of rejection, but it had been he who’d pushed Carlotta from his life after she’d all but rejected him.
‘And do you speak from experience, Signor Moretti?’
The use of his surname shocked him momentarily, but he knew what she was trying to do. As the minutes ticked away the year and the spark of attraction increased, she wanted to instil propriety into the moment, remind him—and herself—of why they were here like this at all.
‘I was involved in a racing accident that left me badly hurt and no longer the kind of company a glamorous model keeps. I couldn’t offer Carlotta the luxurious lifestyle she craved any longer.’ He wanted to tell her more, tell her he knew what it felt like to be rejected, but those words failed him. ‘When I told her we were over she simply walked away and into the arms of another man.’
The soft gasp of shock that came from her lips made guilt rush through him and he turned away from her, looking again into the flames. He sensed her next to him before he felt her hand on his arm.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered softly.
What was she sorry for? His failed relationship, the accident, or forcing him to remember? ‘It was for the best.’ He snapped the words out, hoping to kill the conversation.
‘When did it happen? The accident, I mean.’ The tentative question nudged the memories back a little as her husky voice began to stir his desire again.
‘Summer. Three years ago.’ He looked into her eyes, saw the blue darken until they looked like a midnight sky. He was beginning to drown, pulled by an unknown force towards something he knew he shouldn’t sample, let alone have.
‘You sent her away because you were in hospital?’ Incredulity poured from her, but he wondered what she would have done, faced with his rage and furious need to lash out. Would she have flinched, her face unable to hide her disgust when she saw his injuries for the first time? Would she have stayed around him as his mood had blackened and his guilt deepened?
‘I was not the man she’d met, and couldn’t offer the globetrotting life she sought. So I ended it.’ The words sounded like a snarl as he slipped back in time, seeing again the moment that once lovely face had screwed up in selfish pity. ‘Grazie a Dio! It was for the best.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ The gentle concern in Tilly’s eyes was almost too much. He was glad Carlotta had revealed her true self to him. It was just sad that it had taken such an accident to show him the kind of woman she was.
‘When should you have married?’ He needed to deflect attention from himself, prevent the horror of those months coming out into the open and infesting his dreams as they always did when he thought too much.
‘An hour after Jason told me the engagement was off.’
* * *
Tilly clenched her teeth, biting back the tears. She couldn’t let them fall now. Not here. Not in front of this man. She’d thought she was over Jason, over the way he’d called everything off so suddenly.
‘Dio mio.’
The expletive was hotly followed by rapid Italian words she couldn’t understand and her need to give to tears was swamped by the urge to laugh—in a way she hadn’t done for months. How could she talk about it to Xavier and even find it funny? It was this place and being marooned from reality.
Exactly a year ago she should have married the man she’d believed to be her Mr Right. He’d been safe, comfortable, someone she’d grown up with, then he’d catapulted her into a new life, telling her she should live for the moment, as he’d done. Was that what she was fighting against now? A moment with an Italian playboy who set her pulse racing?
Xavier stepped close to her and reached out his hand, stroking the backs of his fingers across her cheek. The air cracked with tension as she continued to resist giving in to the temptation of a kiss. Seconds slowed to minutes as he moved closer still. So close she could smell his fresh masculine scent, taste it on her tongue.
She ached to be kissed by him, to feel his lips against hers.
