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Her first time to the Villa di Goia had been on her honeymoon. Two weeks of bliss when they’d only come out of the bedroom to swim in the pool or for Cesare to teach her to waterski on the lake.
He’d wanted to take her somewhere exotic, but for a girl brought up in a dysfunctional working class home, who’d never travelled beyond the shores of England, Lake Como at the end of a hot summer had been exotic enough. And after being carried over the threshold and falling as swiftly and deeply in love with the charming elegance of the Villa di Goia as she had with its owner, she’d had no wish to be anywhere else.
Besotted fool that she’d been.
With an irritated shake of her head, she banished her thoughts. Through the window she caught another glimpse of the sparkling swimming pool and smiled at the thought of Annabelle’s delight when her water-loving child was reunited with her favourite pool.
‘If that’s a smile of victory, I’d caution against being too precipitate,’ a deep drawl sounded from behind her.
Cesare lounged against a Louis XVI credenza that had been in his family for four generations. Above him a portrait of another di Goia, long dead but no less imposing, stared down at her with similar unnerving tawny eyes. How long had the living di Goia stood there, silently watching her take the stupid trip down memory lane?
‘Poor Cesare. I can see my being home fills you with all sorts of unhappy feelings. I get it. But I’m not going into hiding just to please you and I’m certainly not going to stop smiling in case it offends you.’
His smile mocked her. ‘I have no problem with you smiling, cara, I just don’t want you deluding yourself that you’ve won an easy victory.’
‘I wouldn’t dare. But remember your rule goes both ways. I can’t stay out of your way if you insist on straying into mine.’
He straightened and sauntered towards her. ‘Is this where we indulge in the childish game of who was here first?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘It’s not childish. I was here first. And, if you must know, I was smiling at the thought of Annabelle being safely home and being surrounded by familiar things.’ Ava caught herself, realising she didn’t owe Cesare any explanation. ‘Anyway, I’ll let you reclaim your domain—’
‘You weren’t just thinking about our daughter. You were reminiscing about us.’ He said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, Ava felt a shiver race up her spine.
‘You’re wrong.’ The need for denial was visceral.
‘Liar. We may have been apart more than together for most of the past year, Ava, but you’re still as easy to read as an open book.’
‘Then it’s a book whose language you don’t quite fully understand. Because, from where I’m standing, you couldn’t have got things more wrong if you’d tried.’
His jaw clenched, the mocking smile wiped clean. Part of Ava wanted to punch the air in triumph. The other just wanted to weep because if she’d been as open as Cesare claimed, then it meant he’d recognised her heart’s one desire—the need for the comfort of the loving family she’d never had—and he’d still denied her.
‘And, just so we’re clear, my memories are my own. They’re not a subject for your amusement or dissection.’
‘Then learn to hide them better.’
‘Why—do they make you uncomfortable? Would you rather I strip myself of every humanising emotion, like you?’ she challenged and immediately bit her tongue when he tensed. The light pouring through the tall shuttered windows carved his face in taut, almost statue-like relief.
‘You think I’m without emotion, cara?’ he queried so softly the hairs on her arms rose in desperate foreboding.
‘Not where I’m concerned. When it comes to me, you’re as emotional as a plank of wood.’
His eyes narrowed. Almost in slow motion, she watched his hands leave his pockets, reach up and curl around her arms. One slid down, relieved her of her laptop and set it carelessly aside.
‘What are you doing?’ Her question squeaked out as he captured her nape.
He didn’t answer, at least not verbally. The slow burn in his eyes and the steady pressure of his fingers on her skin told its own story. With effortless ease, he pulled her close. Ava actually heard her thonged feet screech across the floor in protest as he dragged her into stinging contact with his body. When he had her close enough, he boldly cupped her bottom.
‘Cesare!’
Electric heat, wicked and powerful, snapped through her, zapping awake her senses with a force so potent she gasped. She should’ve wanted to move away from it. Should’ve worked harder to release herself from the powerful, chaotic destruction.
