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‘Yes?’ Her voice sounded amazingly firm considering all that was rushing around in her head.

‘Email me with the bill—and make sure the cost reflects all the time you were at the manor.’

She swallowed down the bad taste that had sprung to her lips. He didn’t want her—all he was worried about was settling his bill. And she thought she’d used him.

She nodded, not able to say anything. The hard expression on his face told her he wouldn’t want her to. All he wanted was to get away as fast as possible. Even now he was turning and walking back towards the car.

Before a single tear sprang from her eyes she made her way to her flat, wanting to get inside and shut him out of her life for good. Behind her she heard a car door slam shut and an engine start. The man she loved was leaving. She wanted to turn, wanted to catch one last glimpse of him, but that would only intensify her pain.

She’d got what she wanted. The opportunity to move on from Jason, to be a different woman. What she hadn’t planned on doing was falling in love with a man who could leave and never give her a second thought.

She put her key in the lock, the first step to returning to her normal life. A soft whisper slipped from her lips. ‘Arrivederci, Xavier.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

XAVIER HAD REPLAYED Tilly’s parting words over and over in his head all night, her voice soft and barely above a whisper. Then her eyes had met his, hardness he’d never seen in hers making them resemble ice.

He could still feel the finality inside him, the realisation that what he’d discovered with her was over, that nothing more would ever come of those three nights they’d spent at the manor. He couldn’t tell her he didn’t want to see her again, that he still carried guilt from the accident and didn’t deserve what he saw in her eyes. Instead, he’d used her favoured shield of professionalism, asking for her bill.

The chauffeur-driven car pulled out into London’s afternoon traffic heading for the airport. He sat back and thought of Paulo’s widow and the charity event she was holding tonight in Milan and knew he couldn’t go. He couldn’t leave London, leave Tilly. Last night he’d done nothing but think of her and knew he wanted more than a brief affair. He wanted the forever she secretly craved. But did she want it with him? He had to know.

He had to see Tilly, had to tell her he wanted her in his life. He couldn’t allow guilt to rule him any longer, because if those three nights at the manor had been the start of something special he couldn’t let it pass him by. She’d helped him find peace and had begun to free him from the guilt he’d carried since the accident. But more importantly—he loved her.

He pulled out his phone and dialled. ‘Sofia,’ he said calmly as Paulo’s widow answered, then spoke firmly in Italian. ‘I’m not going to be able to get there this evening. Can you forgive me?’

‘Is it the woman you were snowed in with?’

‘How do you know that?’ Suspicion narrowed his eyes and the urge to confide in her was overwhelming.

‘Your emails were full of her. Go to her, Xavier. You’ve punished yourself long enough. Paulo would want you to be happy and so do I.’ Sofia’s firm words lifted the fog that had clouded his mind and he knew exactly what he had to do.

After wishing her luck for that evening, he ended the call. ‘Change of plan,’ he said to the driver, and instructed him first to go to a jeweller’s in Knightsbridge then to Tilly’s address, the one that was emblazoned on his memory.

Impatience and apprehension filled him as the car turned around and negotiated the heavy traffic. All he could think of was Tilly. But would she see him? He had to make her understand he couldn’t accept her goodbye. He couldn’t walk away.

During those dark hours at the manor, as the blizzard had raged, they’d shared their innermost vulnerabilities and were now inexplicably connected—whether they liked it or not.

A short while later he stood on the street where they’d said goodbye and thought of the vulnerable woman he’d held in his arms as darkness had shrouded them. He let out a deep breath. The evening darkness of January was beginning to descend. It was as if he’d been transported back to that night in front of the fire, the night Tilly had exposed every vulnerable emotion he could possibly feel. Each one was with him now, some urging him on, forcing him to cross the road to her flat and knock on the door. Others held him back. But none of them could be ignored any longer. He wanted Tilly, not just with lust and passion but with something much deeper and more profound.

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