Consequently, Bianca now felt exhausted and oversensitive and wished she were back in that rural hotel. Somehow she had felt safe in that snowy village, high in the Vargmalian mountains—as if the normal cares of the world couldn’t touch her there. She wondered what was going to happen between them now. If anything. What did she know? Had it just been a casual hook-up for him? Was she supposed to act as if nothing had happened? But if their passionate nightwasto be a one-off, she would accept it. She wouldn’t chase him, or beg him or behave as if she was in any waydependenton him. Because she wasn’t. She wasn’t dependent on anyone.
She was just leaning forward to watch the green fields of England growing ever closer, when Xanthos’s gravelled voice broke into her thoughts.
‘So, what are you planning on doing when we touch down?’
Bianca turned to look at him, steeling herself against all his dark and golden beauty. That didn’t sound very promising, did it? ‘I told you.’ She tried to inject a note of enthusiasm into her voice as she thought of going home to her silent Wimbledon apartment. ‘I’m just going to have a quiet Christmas Day on my own.’
Dark eyebrows disappeared into the ebony tumble of his hair. ‘And is that what you really want?’
Of course it isn’t what I want, you stupid man! I want you to pull me in your arms and tell me I’m beautiful and then kiss me, the way you did last night.
She experimented with a little cool flirtation. ‘Why, is there an alternative?’
‘I’m staying at the Granchester. I’ve booked a suite.’
He said it as if she would have heard of it—which of course she had. ‘Just like that?’ She blinked. ‘One of the best hotels in London and you just happened to be able to get a suite there, on Christmas Day?’
He shrugged, drawing her unwilling attention to the broad width of his shoulders. ‘The owner is a friend of mine.’
Of course he was. ‘I thought...’ She fiddled unnecessarily with her seat belt. ‘I thought you were going to Switzerland.’
‘I was, but I’ve altered my plans. I’m staying in London for a couple of days.’ He subjected her to a steady gaze. ‘And I thought you might like to join me.’
‘Right.’ She sat very still as those dark eyes washed over her. If she were here in a professional capacity she might have asked him why he had changed his plans, and her tone would have been crisp and direct and confident. But she wasn’t here in a professional capacity. She was here as a woman who’d spent the previous night having sex and she wasn’t sure how to handle the aftermath. What to say or how to react. If there were games people played after being intimate for the first time, nobody had ever told her the rules. Part of her wanted to fling herself into his arms and cover his face with kisses which although last night would have been welcomed, today she suspected would not. As always when she was uncertain, she sought comfort in procrastination. ‘Let me think about it.’
Xanthos nodded, not sure whether to be amused or insulted by her lukewarm response, because his head was still all over the place. His night with Bianca had turned out to be the hottest of his life, even before he had made the astonishing discovery that she’d been a virgin. But even more surprising than that was the fact that he hadtoldher stuff. Stuff buried deep which never usually saw the light of day, because he wasn’t a man given to introspection.
But she needed to understand this wasn’t going anywhere. She still didn’t know who he really was, and there were all kinds of reasons why that shouldn’t change. If she knew, it would alter everything. For both of them. He just wasn’t willing to let her go...not just yet. And didn’t he have the perfect excuse for suggesting they prolong their liaison—one which wouldn’t fill her with false hope about the future? He gathered up the documents he’d been reading during the flight. ‘My office have been in touch while we’ve been in the air. Apparently journalists are waiting for us to land.’
She looked at him blankly. ‘Journalists?’
‘You know. They usually write or broadcast features of interest to the general public.’
‘Very funny. Why would they do that? Be waiting for us, I mean.’
She pursed her soft lips and he was momentarily distracted by the memory of those lips locked around a very intimate part of his anatomy, which had started to ache with unbearable precision. ‘Think about it,’ he said huskily. ‘Your sister is a newly crowned queen, and I’m not exactly unknown in the world of gaming and finance. Our plane recently crashed in the snowy mountains of a distant country and we were rescued by a village doctor in an ancient truck. We spent the night together in a quirky hotel, and I’m afraid that being rich and single inevitably gives rise to speculation about the women in my life. It is also Christmas Day, which is a light news day.’ He fixed her with a mocking look. ‘Doesn’t that give you a hint about why they might want to talk to us?’
‘Well, I’m not talking to anyone!’
‘Neither am I. Which is why I’ve arranged for a car to drive me straight from the airfield into London. Have you thought about it for long enough, Bianca?’ His raised his eyebrows. ‘You could join me at the Granchester and we could spend Christmas Day and night together, or I can drop you off somewhere else on the way.’ He shrugged. ‘Up to you.’
Bianca was tempted to turn him down because his attitude was so...offhand. As if she meant nothing to him, and the occasional tenderness she’d glimpsed when they’d been in bed had been nothing but a figment of her imagination. Or maybe tenderness was acceptable within the shadows of the night, but vanished when it met the cold scrutiny of daylight. Couldn’t he at least have kissed her and pulled her into his arms and told her that he really, really wanted her to spend some time with him? He was being so...cool.
She stared down at her fingernails. She knew you weren’t supposed to let other people’s moods affect the way you felt, but right now that didn’t seem to make any difference. She felt like a balloon which had been lanced by a needle. And although it was tempting to want to extend her time with him—wouldn’t that be dicing with danger where her emotions were concerned?
But a solo Christmas dinner had definitely lost its appeal and the thought of returning to her small apartment made her feel flat. She pushed at one of her cuticles. Her seduction last night had felt inevitable—as if she would never stop regretting it if she said no. This one felt more considered and the decision was all hers. She knew what would be the right thing to do. To thank him for the memory and say goodbye, thus eliminating the chances of getting her heart broken. Yet hadn’t she spent her whole life trying to do the right thing? She had adopted different roles when her father had become ill and her mother had found it so difficult to cope. She’d been hard-working Bianca. Reliable Bianca. But now she’d discovered passionate Bianca, surely she was allowed to savour that side of her personality before normal, sensible service was resumed.
‘I suppose I could spend Christmas Day with you,’ she said, after much deliberation. ‘At least it’ll save me from having to do any cooking. Or washing up.’
He smiled and Bianca felt vindicated in her decision when she saw the rabble of press in the distance as they descended the aircraft steps. The waiting car felt like a haven, though she was half blinded by the flash of cameras as they were driven at speed towards the exit. Leaning back, she expelled a long sigh of relief.
‘Thank heavens that’s over.’
His gaze was curious. ‘Had many dealings with the press before?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really. I had to refuse a couple of magazine interviews when the engagement was first announced, and shortly before the wedding I was papped leaving a corner shop near where I live in London after buying a carton of milk.’ She pulled a face. ‘It was an extremely unflattering photo, leaving them to speculate what on earth I was going to wear at the wedding which wouldn’t make me look like a gatecrasher.’
‘And did that bother you?’