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‘I’m going to say it anyway.’ His voice lowered, resembling a growl, and she wondered which of them was fighting the hardest to hold onto their composure.
She lifted a brow in haughty question at him and watched his lips press firmly together as he clenched his jaw. Good, she was getting to him. With that satisfaction racing through her, she walked away, desperate for the safety of her cottage. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say.
‘I am here because Sebastian asked me to come.’ His words, staccato and deeply accented, made another step impossible.
‘How dare you?’ She whirled round to face him, all thought of restraint abandoned. ‘You are here because of your guilt.’
‘My guilt?’ He stepped towards her, quickly closing that final bit of space between them, his eyes glittering and hard.
Her heart thumped frantically in her chest and her knees weakened, but she couldn’t let him know that. ‘It’s your fault. You are the one responsible for Sebastian’s death.’
Her words hung accusingly between them, and the sun slipped behind a cloud as if sensing trouble. She watched his handsome face turn to stone and even thought she saw the veil of guilt shadow it, but it was brief, swiftly followed by cold anger, making his eyes sharper than flint.
He was so close, so tall, and she wished she was wearing the heels she used to favour before her life had been shaken up into total turmoil. She kept her gaze focused on him, determined to match his aggressive stance.
‘If, as you say, it was my fault I would not have waited a year to come here.’ His voice was cool and level, his eyes, changing to gleaming bronze, fixed her accusingly to the spot.
He took one final step towards her, so close now he could have kissed her. That thought shocked her and she resisted the need to step back away from him, as far as she could. She hadn’t done anything wrong. He was the guilty one. He was the one who’d intruded on her life.
‘It was your car that crashed, Mr Roselli.’ She forced each word out, his proximity making it almost impossible.
‘Your brother and I designed that car. We built it together.’ His voice, deep and accented, hinted at pain. Or was she just imagining it, reflecting her grief onto him?
‘But it was Sebastian who test drove it.’ She fought the memories he was dragging up. Demons she’d thought she’d finally shut the door on.
He didn’t say anything and she held her ground, looking up into his eyes as they searched her face. Her heart pounded wildly and deep down she knew it wasn’t just the memories of Sebastian. It was as much to do with this man. Instinctively she knew his potent maleness had disturbed the slumbering woman hidden within her—and she hated him for that.
‘It couldn’t have done your company’s reputation any good when an up-and-coming racing driver was killed at the wheel of your prototype.’ She injected a jaunty edge to her words, issuing a challenge. At the same time she wished she could run and hide—from the memories he stirred as much as from the way her body reacted to each glance from his devilishly dark eyes.
He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch at all. He was in complete control as his eyes glittered, sharp sparks like diamonds spiking her soul.
‘It wasn’t good for anyone.’ His voice was icy cold and, despite the warmth of the September sun, she shivered, but still he remained, watching as if he could read every thought that raced through her mind.
She drew in a ragged tear-laden breath and swallowed hard. She couldn’t cry, not now. Not again. She was done with crying. It was time to move on, time to forge a new path through life. She couldn’t go back to what she’d been doing before. Her time in front of the cameras, representing Seb’s team, was over. The memories would be too much, yet this man seemed hell-bent on bringing the past into the present.
‘I think you should leave, Mr Roselli.’ She stepped away from him, out of his shadow and into the sun as it crept out from behind the clouds. ‘Neither is it doing me any good.’
With eyes narrowed by suspicion, he watched her as she took another step back and away from him. ‘I am here because Sebastian asked me to come.’
She shook her head, the emotional meltdown she’d wanted to keep at bay threatening to erupt. ‘I still want you to leave.’
She didn’t care if he remained standing in her precious garden; she just wanted to escape him, escape the aura of a man obviously used to getting all he wanted, no matter what the cost to anyone else.
