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She looked across the table at him, trying to remember what he’d just asked her, but her mind was blank. All she could think of was that this man was the man she loved, that he could be her Mr Right if things had been different, but she could never tell him. He’d made it plain that their time together meant nothing. Thank goodness she’d told him about her list, that he was merely a tick on that list.

‘I’m sorry if it’s been miserable, stuck here with me.’ There was a hint of hurt in his voice as he spoke firmly, bringing her rapidly from her thoughts.

‘No, it’s not that.’ She struggled to find the right way to explain. ‘Neither of us planned this to happen and if we are totally honest, we know what did happen wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the snow.’

‘You are right. It wouldn’t have.’ The hard words fired back at her and her heart squeezed with pain. What they’d shared had been nothing more than a passing moment. Two vulnerable people stranded together, sharing secrets. But even so she’d harboured a little bit of hope.

‘And once we are back in London?’ She almost didn’t dare ask, but she needed to know, needed to hear it from him.

For a moment she dared to allow herself to imagine him saying he wanted to see her again, that he wanted much more than just the three nights they’d spent here together. She looked at his hard expression, realising such hope was futile. What they’d shared was over. The mutually beneficial fling had come to an end, expired, just as her contract had done.

‘I will have your van returned to you as soon as possible.’ His voice shattered the fragile image of things she shouldn’t want. The fact that it would be returned and not that he would return it didn’t go unnoticed. All connections would be severed and his life would go on as before. Whereas hers... How could she go back to her life when he’d woken the spontaneous, happy and passionate woman she’d always wished she could be?

‘I don’t want anyone to know about us.’ She looked down at the breakfast, which suddenly looked very unappetising. She was acting from self-preservation. There was no way she could admit what she really wanted. This was worse than her wedding morning when Jason had told her it was over. ‘From a professional point of view, I don’t want to risk future clients finding out.’

‘Sì, that is best. What happened here will stay here, within these walls, probably adding to secrets from generations ago.’

She looked up at him, pain crushing her. How had she got so close so quickly? Was it simply because of the intimate moments they’d shared, the secrets they’d spoken of?

It was much more than that—for her at least. It was love. She hadn’t ever allowed herself to fall in love, not even with Jason, and without realising it she’d fallen in love with Xavier Moretti as quickly as the snow had fallen from the grey sky. The worst man possible to love.

He wasn’t like the boy she’d grown up with who had suddenly wanted more from life than she could give. This was a man who thrived on his playboy reputation, who was probably even now planning his next meaningless affair.

He didn’t love her. She had to remember that as they left this place. For him it had been nothing more than an opportune affair, just as it should have been for her.

No matter how her heart broke at the prospect, she was determined to say goodbye in a cool and dignified way. She couldn’t risk him knowing how she felt, not when he would merely dismiss that love as nothing. She would walk away from this with her head held high.

* * *

Xavier put their cases into the back of the four-wheel drive his friend had organised, thankful that they would at least be heading back to London before the end of the day. He didn’t think he could spend another night here and not go to Tilly.

He glanced at her as she got into the back and wondered how she really felt. The driver sat solemnly waiting as he climbed up into the back beside her. There wouldn’t be any chance of talk now. Not real talk. He’d never know if it had been simply lust-filled passion or something more that had filled their nights.

Her cold acceptance and obvious relief at being rescued proved what she’d said as they’d walked in the snow yesterday morning. Their first night together had been wrong, a mistake. So what did that make last night? Another item ticked off her list, one to prove her new-found spontaneity?

He tried to ignore the sizzle from being close to her. Tilly pulled out her phone and sent a text. She looked up at him, as if sensing his scrutiny.

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