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‘Sì, mi ricordo.’ His brisk tone left her in no doubt he wasn’t here to rekindle the passion they’d shared. ‘May I come in?’
The piercing intensity in his eyes sent exasperation rushing through her, but she bit back her retort. If he thought he could come from one woman back to her, then he had got it drastically wrong. Just as she had done, trusting him at the manor. ‘I am rather busy packing.’
He looked surprised and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. ‘Where and when are you going?’ The firmness in his voice couldn’t hide the shock her news had given him.
‘I’m going to Tuscany to meet my father’s family.’
‘Something else crossed off your list?’ The hard look in his eyes made a chill run down her spine.
She nodded. ‘I have you to thank for that.’ It was true. If he hadn’t made her talk about the past, unlocking a door she’d hidden behind like a terrified animal, then she wouldn’t be going. She wouldn’t even have contacted them.
‘And when would this be?’
She stood back, giving in to the need to see him again. He walked past her and into the small flat she proudly called home, only too aware it would be inferior to what he would be used to—but he was in her world now. He glanced at her passport and boarding pass, which sat neatly on her kitchen counter. ‘This Saturday?’
‘Yes.’ She resented the fact that he’d helped himself to the information, realising he was now very different from the relaxed man she’d shared a few passionate nights with. He might be in her world, but he’d brought his own agenda with him. ‘What is it you want, Xavier?’
Unexplainably irritated by his presence, she glared at him, wanting to know why he was there, but another part of her dreaded the answer, especially after seeing last night’s internet photos.
‘We need to talk.’ He moved a step closer and it was all she could do not to move away. She stayed firm and lifted her chin a little, looking directly into his handsome face, noting the hint of stubble and realising that even at the manor, when everything had been so different, he’d been clean-shaven. As she looked more closely she saw lines of tiredness etched on his face.
‘There’s nothing to say, Xavier.’
‘You know part of the story, now I want you to know the rest.’
Why was he talking to her like this? Cautiously, allowing a bit of hope into her heart, she responded, ‘Go on.’
‘Christmas wasn’t something I celebrated, not after destroying Paulo’s family.’ His face hardened, all trace of humour gone. Whatever it was that had happened at the racetrack that day haunted him still.
‘So why the New Year dinner party?’ She sensed there was more but knew he wouldn’t tell her. He hadn’t when she’d asked about his aversion to Christmas at the manor. She had been kept behind his defensive wall.
‘The New Year dinner party was for the benefit of my parents. Nothing more.’ His dark gaze met hers and she saw confusion and honesty in them. ‘An item crossed off my list.’
She touched his arm and those intense dark eyes searched her face. ‘I think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re punishing yourself when you shouldn’t.’
‘Because of me and my need to win that race, my friend is dead. I had to be hard on myself.’ The words snapped from him and the pain in his voice froze the air around them before shattering it.
‘I don’t know much about motorcycle racing, Xavier, but I do know accidents are investigated and reports are made.’ She tried to placate him, tried to smooth the pain. They might be in her small flat, back in the real world, but right now it was as if the magic that had caught them in its grip at the manor had returned, weaving around them, shutting everything out.
‘I don’t need a damn report to tell me it was my fault. I know that, here.’ He thumped his fist against his chest, the pain in that action evident.
She wanted to reach for him, to wrap her arms around him and let her love wash away all that misplaced guilt, all that self-inflicted pain, but something held her back. She still didn’t understand why he was there. Why now when he’d only just been in the company of a new woman?
‘I saw it on the internet, Xavier.’ The words were a firm whisper, severing the thread of connection that had just woven itself around them. ‘Nobody blames you.’
* * *
Xavier stood and looked at Tilly, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders, and he remembered how it had felt, how soft it had been as he’d slid his fingers into it before kissing her.
