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‘It’s not going to help to stand here, apportioning blame. After breakfast I will walk to the road to see what the situation is.’ He was back in charge, back in control, which was more than he’d been last night.

‘I’m coming too.’ The firm statement left him in no doubt that she intended to do just that. ‘I’ve seen more boots and coats in one of the back rooms.’

‘Va bene.’ He could see any kind of refusal was useless. Thankfully, minute by minute, he was regaining control, not only of his emotions but the situation.

The strong, hot coffee, brewed on the gas stove, had further infused him with discipline, so that by the time they were making their way through the deep snow he was in a more amenable mood.

Just as when she’d arrived, Tilly wore her red woollen hat and scarf. Her cheeks were flushed from the freezing wind and a worried look haunted her eyes. Was it really that important to get to her friend’s house? A real friend would understand. These thoughts cluttered his mind, filling it with questions, until Tilly stumbled into a windblown patch of snow, which was far deeper than she’d expected, and with a squeal of shock she flung out her arms.

He caught her instantly, his reactions quick and precise. But instead of letting her go as soon as she was steady on her feet, he held her close. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and that strange sensation filled his chest, squashing almost all the breath from him. Despite their bundled layers he could feel the heat from her body infusing his and the urge to kiss her was so strong he had to grit his teeth against it.

Again she was testing him. Dio mio. What had she done to him?

He’d pushed her boundaries, knocked them down, all for his own selfish needs, had divulged all his secrets, but he still wanted her.

‘We should continue,’ he managed to say over the thrum of lust. ‘The sky is looking more threatening, as if more snow is on the way.’

* * *

‘So much snow.’ Tilly couldn’t believe it. More snow meant not only being unable to get to Vanessa’s but also being here longer with Xavier. That was something she couldn’t do, especially when he looked at her with such intolerance in his eyes. He didn’t want to be here with her, much less be reminded of the mistake they’d made last night.

Their passion had been all-consuming, totally undeniable. She’d always thought passion caused trouble, that unhappiness was just a kiss away—and it had certainly proved to be true. One kiss had led to last night and now he could barely look at her.

‘We will see what the lanes look like then decide what to do.’ The command in his voice was strong, adding weight to her theory that he now despised her. She’d pushed him to talk, forced him to reveal not just his scars but his feelings. He was shutting himself away, becoming unreachable.

She pulled away from him, away from the burning anger that sparked so vibrantly in his eyes. ‘Even if the lanes are clear, I’ll never get the van out of here.’

Despair flooded through her. Her mind was so full of anxiety she wanted to drop to the snow and give up, but that would be showing weakness and you never let your enemy see that. He may well have been her lover for just those few short hours, but the way he was treating her now he was as good as her enemy.

‘Maybe not, but we could try and get you to the main road and public transport.’

So he was that desperate to be rid of her and the problem created by last night’s passionate encounter that he would pack her up and put her on a bus.

‘It’s snowing, Xavier. Buses will not be running. Not today.’ The spark of fire in her voice shocked her and, judging by the way he looked at her, it had shocked him too. Those coolly assessing eyes held hers and for a moment everything was silent, muffled by the snow and the tension stretching between them.

‘Come.’ The command in his voice was strong and clear, but he held out his hand to her. She looked at it, knowing taking hold of it would change everything. ‘Natalie?’

She took his hand, not knowing why or what she hoped would happen, but she hadn’t anticipated the zing of electricity that zipped up her arm.

‘I don’t like this.’ She’d spoken before she could think. ‘Being stuck here, I mean.’

‘Because of the snow or me?’ He fired the question at her as he strode through the deep snow. Finally they reached the part of the driveway that twisted through the woods and where the depth of snow was less, sheltered by the trees.

‘Both,’ she answered honestly.

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