Читать книгу Summer Loving - Ким Лоренс, Cathy Williams - Страница 13

CHAPTER FIVE

‘MADRE DI DIO, Ava, there are no half measures with you, are there? You always have to jump in with both feet.’ Cesare had just slammed the door behind a hastily departed Celine. The fury radiating from his body made her swallow nervously.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a show of bravado that was fast fading in the face of his anger. ‘If you mean I don’t tolerate being made a fool of in my own home, then the answer is yes.’

‘Need I remind you that we’re all but separated and this is my house?’

She shrugged. ‘What’s yours is supposed to be mine too, isn’t it? I’m sure I’ve seen that tattooed on a body part somewhere.’

‘Porca miseria. You insult our guest and all you can do is crack jokes?’

‘You should’ve warned me you were sleeping with her. Maybe then I would’ve been on my best behaviour!’

His eyes narrowed, his fury intensifying by the second. ‘I’m not sleeping with Celine,’ he said through gritted teeth.

‘Oh, don’t take me for a fool. You two were making enough moon eyes at each other to keep this villa illuminated for a month!’

‘I’ve known her for a very long time. There is a familiarity between us—’

‘Yes, it’s called sex.’

He took an unchecked step towards her, as if to physically restrain her from speaking. At the last moment he lurched away and stalked to the window. Shoving his fists into his pockets, he stared out into the softly lit garden.

‘Celine is the daughter of one of my father’s oldest friends. I’ve known her since she was born. We’ve always been friends but she was much closer to Roberto.’

Ava tensed at the mention of his brother’s name.

For as long as they’d been married, Cesare had remained close-lipped about his reclusive younger brother. All she’d ever been able to find out was that he lived in a castle high up in the Swiss Alps and only permitted Cesare to visit him from time to time. Ava had never been told why Roberto di Goia had withdrawn from the world.

‘So Celine is Roberto’s friend, not your girlfriend?’ Stupid hope flared to life.

He shrugged. ‘I think our respective parents hoped Celine and Roberto would marry one day. I know Celine waited a long time for Roberto to propose.’

‘You mean before he went to live in Switzerland?’

‘Yes.’ The word emerged with a poignancy that scraped her heart.

‘Don’t tell me. The proposal Celine wanted never arrived and now your parents want you to step in and do the right thing by her? Honour the agreement or something?’

He turned from the window, his tawny eyes gleaming with grim amusement in the half-light. ‘You’ve watched too many vintage mafioso movies, Ava. No one demands honour marriages like those any more. There was never any agreement, just a wish.’

A pang of discomfort made her realise she was twisting her fingers into knots. ‘So what happened between Roberto and Celine?’

The fleeting amusement faded, to be replaced by a pain so deep and gut-wrenching she took a step towards him. ‘Cesare?’

He didn’t respond for a long while, his bleak gaze fixed in the middle distance. Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh.

‘I should’ve told you... I’m sorry, there didn’t seem to be the right time to announce that sort of thing.’

She frowned. ‘Announce what? What didn’t you tell me?’

‘Roberto...’ He stopped and another pain-filled sigh ripped from his chest. Fear clutched Ava’s chest.

She bit her tongue, torn between screaming for an answer and the need to protect him from the obvious pain of what he fought to say.

The need to know won out. ‘What about Roberto?’

He inhaled again. ‘He...died two weeks ago.’

Shock ripped through her. ‘What?’

Cesare shot her a dark, tormented look. Then he glanced absently around the room. When his gaze returned to hers, his features were once again resolute.

‘Roberto is dead. Celine never got the chance to marry him. The fact that she didn’t doesn’t mean I see her as anything more than a friend, so you can contain your hysteria about us having an affair. And I would appreciate you curbing any such future outbursts in front of our guests.’

This was the Cesare she knew—commanding, resolute, domineering.

He strode past her, ready to walk out.

She grabbed his arm. ‘Wait! You can’t just announce that Roberto is...you can’t just drop something like that and walk away. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?’

Another flash of pain crossed his eyes. ‘Think about what’s happened between us lately—the earthquake, the trauma you and Annabelle have been through. When do you suggest I should’ve dropped this on you?’

‘You could’ve found a way to tell me. He was my brother-in-law—’

‘A brother-in-law you never met.’

‘And why was that? You’ve always been reluctant to talk about Roberto, what happened to him or why you two weren’t close.’

His eyes grew bleaker. ‘Leave it, Ava.’

‘Why should I? You accuse me of jumping to the wrong conclusions. How can I arrive at the right one when I seem to be operating in the dark? Tell me what happened between you and Roberto.’

For a long time she thought he wouldn’t answer. ‘Valentina happened,’ he slid out.

Ava was almost too afraid to ask. ‘Who’s Valentina?’

‘Celine’s older sister. Seven years ago, I’d just opened my New York office when I met her at a party. She was thinking of relocating and she had a good head for numbers so when she asked me for a job, I offered her one.’

‘Did you sleep with her?’ The words shot out before she could stop herself.

His eyelids descended. ‘Ava...’

‘It’s okay; it was before we met. I guess I have no right to ask you that.’ Although the jealousy that seared her insides told a very different story.

‘The answer is no, I didn’t sleep with her. But Roberto thought I had. He turned up in New York a month later and accused me of poaching his woman. Turns out they’d been dating in Rome before she came to New York. I didn’t know.’

‘Hell. Surely you explained things to Roberto?’

He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Until I was blue in the face. But he wasn’t in a listening mood. We had the mother of all fights, right in the middle of a meeting in full view of my board members.’ He paced to the window and turned back sharply. ‘Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst of it. In the middle of all that carnage, Valentina announced she was pregnant with Roberto’s child.’

Ava frowned. ‘How was that worse?’

‘Roberto got down on one knee there and then and asked her to marry him. She declined his proposal.’

‘Oh no.’

‘I got the blame for that too but I convinced him not to give up so he kept trying. She told him she wasn’t ready to get married or settle down, even though she intended to keep the baby. Roberto begged her to return to Rome with him. I think he wore her out in the end...’

‘But...?’

‘Roberto never truly believed the child was his—Valentina liked to party hard and often. He talked her into having an amniocentesis. She nearly lost the baby.’

Ava gasped. ‘Oh my God.’

‘After that she flatly refused to stay with Roberto. She came back to New York...asked for her job back. She was carrying my brother’s child. I could hardly say no.’

‘And Roberto blamed you all over again?’

He shrugged. ‘We’d never been particularly close growing up. He was ill more often than not, constantly in and out of hospital as a child, while I was away at boarding school ten months out of twelve. Valentina was his first and only serious relationship.’

Her heart clenched hard. ‘So the big brother he thought had everything had swooped in and stolen the only woman he cared about.’

Cesare’s jaw clenched hard. ‘Si. He refused to believe that I’d had no hand in Valentina’s defection. Nothing I said made a difference. I tried to talk to Valentina but she refused to return to Rome.’ He sighed. ‘I gave her all the support I could. In hindsight, I think I may have given her too much support.’

‘She never went back to Roberto?’ The question slid from numb lips as it struck her just how very little she really knew about the man she’d married.

‘No, she never got the chance.’ His husky reply broke through her thoughts. ‘She overdosed on sleeping pills midway through her second trimester. Turned out she was manic-depressive and her state had been heightened by her pregnancy. Roberto lost his mind with grief. He cut me off, he cut our parents off and moved to Switzerland.’

Ice drenched her soul and, for the first time in her life, Ava found herself struck dumb. Neither of them moved for what seemed like an eternity.

Then he exhaled a harsh breath. ‘You wanted to know. Now you know.’

The words hit her like a slap in the face. ‘You still should’ve told me. At the very least our child deserved to know she’d lost her uncle.’

His gaze slid away. ‘Roberto died two weeks after the earthquake. I didn’t think it was fair to burden you with that news.’

‘And in the time since then? You could’ve texted, emailed...hell, you could’ve Tweeted me, for heaven’s sake.’

A rough hand shoved through his hair. ‘Yes, I could’ve done all of that. But I didn’t. Let’s just chalk it up to me being the heartless bastard you think I am and move on, shall we?’

Ava wanted to rail at him but, seeing the grief behind his words, she opted for peace. ‘Will you at least tell Annabelle? She deserves to know.’

Cesare’s gaze met hers and Ava’s heart caught at the pain in the dark depths. ‘Sì, I’ll tell her about Roberto when the time is right.’

A thought niggled, but danced away before Ava could fully grasp it. ‘Was that what Celine meant when she insisted you tell me?’

‘She thought you needed to know about Roberto, yes.’ His tone implied he would very much prefer if she dropped the subject. Pain stung again.

The niggling persisted. ‘But why did she insist on seeing Annabelle? It all seemed a bit OTT to me, to be honest.’

A grim smile crossed his mouth. ‘Celine, like most women, doesn’t know the meaning of subtle. She knows about the earthquake and has been asking to visit since you and Annabelle returned. She takes her role of honorary aunt very seriously.’

‘As long as that’s the only role she’s banking on.’

‘Drop it, Ava.’ The warning was back in his voice, tension sizzling in that flattened line of his mouth. ‘You insulted her and jumped to the wrong conclusions. You should thank your lucky stars I’m not rescinding our truce after that performance.’

Her heartbeat thundered. ‘It’s your fault. If you’d told me all of this before she arrived, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!’

Cesare pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘You push me...all the time you push. You never stop.’

The bone-deep weariness behind his words pulled her up short. ‘What do you mean?’

Tawny eyes turned grave. ‘From the very beginning you pinned high hopes on me—your need for a family, for togetherness. Don’t think I didn’t know what the Bali trip was all about. Did it occur to you that I wasn’t in a position to provide you with all of that?’

Ice skated down her spine. ‘Where is this coming from? If you felt like this, then why did you bother to come to Bali?’

He looked away. ‘You rarely ask me for anything any more. You asked for that and I couldn’t refuse you.’

‘So you came anyway, knowing I was trying to save our marriage but knowing you had no intention of engaging with me?’

‘I was hoping you’d see we were beyond help.’

‘Well, silly me. That sailed right over my head.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I was wrong, of course, to think things would go smoothly with you around; wrong to think I would be spared the reminder that I’ve failed you.’

‘I’m just trying to understand—’

‘Understand why I don’t fit into your mould of a perfect husband and father? Because, above all else, it’s what you want, isn’t it?’

‘Above all else? God, you make me sound like a needy, pathetic creature.’ He remained silent and the ice unfurled. ‘Is that what you really think of me?’

‘I’ve never been good at the family thing, Ava. My parents had their hands full with Roberto. He was their number one priority for a very long time. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t neglected but I learned very quickly to be content with my own company. After a while, I preferred it.’

‘Then why marry me?’

‘You were carrying my child.’

The numbing ice encased her whole being. He stilled for a moment then jerked closer, the edges of regret on his face as he lifted his hand. She ducked out of reach before he could touch her.

‘You don’t need to soften the blow,’ she forced out. ‘In all things I would prefer brutal honesty.’

‘Has it ever occurred to you that I keep you in the dark for your own protection?’

‘I’m not a child, Cesare. And I especially don’t want to be kept in the dark about things that affect our daughter. I want the truth. Always.’

A bleak look entered his eyes and his shoulders stiffened. ‘In that case you need to know something else,’ he said.

Her heart lurched. ‘What?’

‘Although he was sick on and off for months, we don’t actually know what Roberto succumbed to in the end. That was part of the reason for Celine’s visit.’

‘Her...what exactly does Celine do?’

‘She’s a doctor.’

Her brain cogs slowly engaged until his meaning sank in. ‘So asking about Annabelle...?’

‘She also wanted to check on her medically. On all of us.’

Fear tightened her chest. ‘What does she think could be wrong? And please don’t sugar-coat the truth to protect me.’

‘We honestly don’t know. Roberto refused medical treatment in the weeks before his death. It could even be that he took his own life.’ Raw pain drenched every word.

‘Suicide?’ she rasped. ‘Dear God.’ She sank into the chair. After several minutes, she raised her head. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’

He visibly pulled in the reins of his control. ‘No. The results of the cause of death should be available in the next few days. But tomorrow morning we’ll call Celine and you’ll apologise for your behaviour. Si?’ The soft, dangerous tone sent sweet shudders chasing up her spine, melting the ice just a little.

‘And if I refuse?’

‘Cristo, why do you challenge me at every turn?’

‘Because I’m not a doormat. You liked that about me once, remember?’

‘I’m not in the mood to reminisce about us.’

She wanted to tear her gaze away, to stomp away in fury, but she was frozen, held captive by the magic of his voice, the seductive uniqueness of his scent that filled her senses, made her want to linger a while longer, breathing him in.

‘If you meant what you just said about your...deficiencies, I think it’s in all of our best interest that we tackle the subject of us sooner or later, don’t you think?’

‘Don’t push me tonight, Ava. I’m at my limit.’

Something softened inside her. ‘Not tonight.’ She stepped closer, an invisible cord pulling her to him, his heat a craving she couldn’t resist. Tentatively, she touched his firm cheek. ‘I’m truly sorry about Roberto. Will you tell me if there’s anything I can do?’

He muttered something low under his breath. Incoherent and pithy, but it caught and stopped her breath nevertheless. Mesmerised, she watched one hand come up slowly, building her anticipation as it touched and traced the skin underneath her ear.

She shuddered. The pad of one finger traced the vein pulsing heated, frantic blood through her body. Her breath grew shallow, causing her heart to accelerate even more from the lack of oxygen. When his finger came to rest on the pulse at her throat, it was all she could do not to moan.

He caught her to him, one strong arm snagging her waist and lifting her off her feet like a pirate claiming his bounty.

His mouth replaced his finger and she moaned at the relentless drum of desire beating in the swollen flesh between her legs, at the urgent tightening of her nipples. But he didn’t relent. He lapped her flesh with his tongue, driving her nearly out of her mind before he sucked, deeply, mercilessly.

Oh dear God, she’d have a mark on there tomorrow, blatant evidence of Cesare’s rough possession.

But right at that moment Ava didn’t care about anything except prolonging the pleasure of Cesare’s hot mouth on her. Eagerly, she tilted her head, offering the sensitive expanse of her neck to him.

With a groan he accepted her offer, kissing the length of her throat and back again, before biting hungrily on her soft lobe.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. Holding on tight, she lifted and threw her legs around his waist, anchoring herself against the pleasure of his lean frame. The hard rigid evidence of his arousal grazed her damp panties.

The shockingly intimate position made them both tense, then draw together as if unable to resist the magnetic force of the desire arcing between them.

When he started raining kisses along her jaw, she turned her head, met his mouth in a fierce kiss that rocked them both. She was hardly aware of him moving, barely aware of the firm sofa behind her back as he lowered her onto it.

All she knew and craved was Cesare, above her, around her. Everywhere but inside her, where she desperately needed him to be.

Frustration bit deep. Tightening her thigh muscles, she tried to draw him closer to the centre of her, to the place that wept for his possession.

‘You do this to me every time,’ he said against her lips. ‘You drench me in this...this insanity.’

‘You make me sound like some witch, wielding a potent spell.’

The moment the words left her lips she regretted them. Because, just like the first afternoon of her return, her voice reacted like ice on his skin.

Tense muscles locked in fierce rejection as he disentangled her from his body. Face taut, he levered himself away and stared down at her. When he stumbled backwards, she clutched his arm.

‘Please tell me this wasn’t another stupid caveman demonstration?’

His pupils dilated and she glimpsed his turmoil before, with jerky movements, he removed himself to the other side of the room.

‘It wasn’t an intentional one, no,’ he replied huskily.

‘Then what exactly was it? God, Cesare, you’re blowing so hot and cold, anyone would think you were a virgin.’

His face tightened. ‘You don’t know what you’re asking, Ava.’

And she had a feeling she would regret the words, but her need to be with him, to experience the sheer bliss of Cesare’s lovemaking had pushed her past shame. ‘You’re my husband. I’m your wife, albeit an unwanted one. What could be simpler?’

He whirled around. ‘We haven’t had sex in almost a year.’

A harsh laugh left her throat. ‘Trust me, I know. And I’m not sure whether to be ashamed because I’ve let myself accept this preposterous situation between us or disgusted with myself because, despite everything, I still want you.’

His smile was tinged with an arrogance that made her palms itch to slap it off his face. Then kiss him like he was her last breath. ‘Our chemistry defies reason and description. Always has. But you’re chasing a dream, cara. One that can never become reality.’

She stopped and licked her lips. ‘Then why are you still here?’ Knowing he still wanted her, still desired her enough to shake his formidable control made her bolder.

Cesare had always prided himself on his control. It was only with her, on occasion, that she’d seen his formidable willpower slip. She’d suspected for a long time that he resented her for that loss of control.

She watched his hands unclench, and immediately clench again. ‘Because it’s becoming physically impossible to stay away from you.’

His gaze locked on hers, studying every movement like a predator tracking a doomed prey. ‘Now it’s your turn. You know I can’t give you the wholesome family you want. What are you prepared to settle for?’

The white-hot gaze slid down to linger on her lips. She knew exactly what that look meant, and yes, she could have settled for wild, untamed, skin-melting sex. But she knew it would never make her happy. ‘I’m not prepared to settle.’

Her heart thudded as he gathered himself together. His features hardened, closed off as completely as a solid steel door slamming in her face.

‘Then we have nothing left to talk about.’

Pain rushed like an icy river through her veins. Gasping in air, she lowered her head to hide the effect of his words. With numb detachment, she noticed her neckline was gaping, showing the full upper curve of her breasts. Hastily, she rearranged her dress, thankful her hair had loosened enough to cover the heat rushing into her face.

She sensed him coming closer. For a second she thought he would touch her, soothe away his harshly spoken words, but when she risked a glance she saw him veer towards the door.

Anger, gratefully received in place of fruitless hope, roiled through her. She surged to her feet and yanked her dress down.

‘Why?’

He didn’t turn around.

‘Tell me why you still wear your wedding ring but are condemning our marriage?’ She heard the strained bewilderment in her voice and would have given her eye teeth not to. ‘Is it...is it because you don’t love me any more?’

With one hand tensed on the doorknob, he turned. ‘Any more?’

‘Yes. Is that it?’

‘Ava, I desired you. I craved you with a need and desperation that bordered on the unholy. But I never claimed to love you.’

* * *

Ava lay in darkness, sleep a thousand miles away as Cesare’s words played an unrelenting refrain in her head. Words that had cut into her, devastated her so completely that she’d sunk into the sofa, incapable of speech.

Cesare, of course, had walked out after reminding her coolly of their call to Celine the next day. She’d clamped her lips together, begging whatever fates were within hearing distance to help her hold it together until he was out of earshot.

Then a long, hideous whimper had escaped her. The sound had reminded her of a wounded animal, alien and ugly, torn from the depths of her soul.

In that moment she’d hated herself. She’d always been weak when it came to Cesare. Minutes after meeting him, and agreeing to have a drink with him at a wine bar in London, she’d known in a deep, innate part of her being that he possessed the power to make her do things, feel things no other human being could. They’d never made it to the wine bar. He’d taken her to his country pad in Surrey and they’d ended up making love, right there on the bonnet of his car in the middle of his driveway. It had been the start of the most erotic, soul-shaking six weeks of her life.

Yes, he’d enthralled her from the very first look.

But the sex wasn’t why she’d fallen for Cesare. During those six weeks, he’d taken care of her, treated her as if she was the most important thing in his life. And for someone who’d always felt like an afterthought in her family, it’d been like being handed a little piece of heaven.

Ava turned over, punched her frustration into her pillow. For Cesare to deny the man he’d been before their marriage and Annabelle’s birth hurt her deeply. Because that man had been there—she hadn’t dreamed him. Or had she?

She sucked in a shaky breath. Cesare’s accusation that she was pushy, of foisting her dreams on him, cut through her muddled thoughts like deadly acid.

Falling pregnant with Annabelle so soon after meeting Cesare had merely accelerated the realisation of a lifelong desire, because nurturing a family she could call her own had always been her one and only dream. And when Cesare had proposed, she’d thought it’d been his dream too.

How wrong she’d been.

Because, she recalled, for a split second after she’d told him she was pregnant, Cesare had looked like a man who’d just glimpsed his worst nightmare.

‘But we were so careful. How could this have happened?’ he’d asked in shaken disbelief.

Since she’d asked herself that very same question, but with a burgeoning joy, she couldn’t have summoned an answer to save her life.

Ava threw back the covers and padded to the window. Moonlight gleamed off the courtyard flagstones—the same flagstones she’d stood on when Cesare had proposed.

I never claimed to love you.

Foolish tears prickled her eyes. She wanted to hate Cesare for his callous words, but he was right. He’d never said the words. Oh, he’d demonstrated his desire exceptionally well; he’d provided for her every carnal and materialistic wish. But he’d never told her he loved her. She’d just...assumed...

Damn it. She wouldn’t cry. Hell, at the back of her mind she’d accepted that at some point one of them would have to make a move to dissolve this empty marriage.

Except, of course, when the time had come she hadn’t demanded a separation or divorce. She’d practically begged for him to take her back.

How pathetic was she? Furious with herself for wallowing in self-pity, she threw a shirt over her thigh-length nightgown, grabbed the monitor and left her suite.

Aimlessly wandering the house, she finally ended up in the kitchen. A wry smile twisted her lips. Her brother, Nathan, the only one of her three brothers who’d come remotely close to acknowledging her existence when they were growing up, would have mocked her mercilessly if he’d seen she’d reverted to her old habit of comfort-eating. Opening the fridge, she took out a half bottle of Soave and poured herself a glass.

A small platter of stromboli stood next to the large stove. She picked one and bit into it, then, on impulse, she tugged the phone off the wall, dialled her brother’s number. Her disappointment was tinged with relief when she got his voicemail.

What would she have said to him anyway? That her husband had announced he’d never loved her and a part of her believed she’d caused her marriage breakdown by forcing a family? Grimacing, she left a short, nondescript message and hung up.

She turned and jumped at the shadow looming in the doorway. Her heart flipped several times more when Cesare stepped into the subdued kitchen light.

‘Mi dispiace. I heard voices.’ His narrowed glance went to the phone, then returned to her. ‘Who were you calling at this time of the night?’ he demanded.

‘Nathan. I got his voicemail. I was leaving a message.’

‘Have any of your family been in touch recently?’

‘You mean have they developed a desperate need to get to know the sister they’ve rejected all their lives? That would be a no.’ She refused to acknowledge the pain.

Cesare frowned. ‘Do they know what’s happened to you this past month?’

She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘They don’t concern themselves with my well-being, Cesare. They never have.’

‘I’m sorry—’

‘I don’t need you to be. And I don’t need your pity. What I need you won’t give me, so you can either leave me in peace, or we can change the subject.’

He stared at her for a full minute, then he leaned against the doorjamb. His gaze slid over her, lingering in places it had no right to linger. She wanted to scream at him to stop looking at her. But this was Cesare. Asking wouldn’t mean getting.

Silence stretched as neither made a move to speak. The air in the open space closed off, growing thick until it felt as if they breathed the same pocket of oxygen.

Slowly, excitement licked through her belly, transmitting knee-weakening desire along her nerve endings. Ava forced herself to remember. Remembering how she’d humiliated herself a mere two hours ago fortified her resolve. She moved forward, then paused, realising that to walk out of the door she’d have to go past him.

Her glance fell to his hands and took in white padding and red specks where his knuckles bled. ‘You’ve been in the gym?’

Cesare kept a fully equipped gym in all of his homes and kept ultra-fit by boxing.

He gave a grim nod. ‘I was overwhelmed by the need to pummel something.’ His eyes locked on hers, drilling into her until she feared he could see right through her.

‘How did that work out for you?’ Her voice emerged breathless, strained. She took a hasty sip of her wine.

‘Not nearly as successful as I’d hoped it would. You?’

‘I leave the pummelling to others.’ She raised the items in her hand. ‘I prefer to wage my war armed with carbs and wine. I’ll let you know later if I’m winning.’

Half of her had hoped her answer would drive him away. The other half, the foolish half that never listened to reason where Cesare was concerned, leaped with joy when he came closer, slowly unwinding the padding from his bound fingers. Sweat glistened off his honed biceps, emphasising the play of superb muscle as he moved. Even more riveting was his half smile, more potent now he’d stopped beside her.

‘Pour me a glass, would you?’ He nodded at her glass.

‘Do you think it’s a good idea?’

He surveyed her with the sleepy regard of a jungle predator. The taut smile that barely curved his lips was acutely discerning. ‘For me to drink wine, or for us to be in the same room at the same time?’

‘Both.’ She cursed her candid tongue and tried to address the less volatile issue. ‘Also, isn’t water the recommended drink after hectic exercise?’

Heat flared in her cheeks as his gaze turned even more intense. The torrid promise of sheet-burning sex pulsed between them. His nostrils flared for a second before he moved to the sink and ran his hands under the tap.

‘I drank water after the workout. Now I need something...stronger.’ His gaze dropped to her chest, his bold stare causing her breasts to grow heavier. ‘I’ll get the wine myself if you can’t stand to be here.’

The clear challenge made her bolder. The red in her hair and nature made backing down from a challenge an impossibility—or so she’d often been told.

She wouldn’t slink away like a scared puppy just because Cesare was in a testy mood. Setting her drink on the vast centre island, she pulled out a stool and perched on it.

Cesare grabbed a glass, brought over the plate of stromboli and placed it down between them. She poured his wine as he took a bite of bread. After taking a sip, he sat back and looked at her.

‘Sleep was eluding you also?’

‘I think sleep would elude any woman whose husband announces he never loved her and regrets marrying her.’

He tensed immediately. ‘Ava—’

‘It’s okay. No, actually, it’s not okay but I’m not about to launch into another bout of hysteria if that’s what you’re worried about.’

He exhaled. ‘You’re the last woman I’d accuse of hysterics. But grazie.’

The piece of pastry she popped into her mouth to delay her response tasted like sawdust with a hint of garlic. Taking another sip of wine helped her force it down, but realising another bite wasn’t a good idea because she risked choking, she put it down.

‘Don’t thank me just yet. I’m still reeling from the revelations about Roberto and about us. Just because I’m calm now doesn’t mean we don’t have a situation that doesn’t need to be resolved.’ Clearing her throat, she forced the words out. ‘I think it’s time we stop playing ostrich and take what’s happening between us to the next...permanent level.’

The violent scrape of the stool as he pushed it back on the tiled floor raked across nerves already raw with her ravaged emotions.

Cesare planted both hands on the smooth surface and glared fire and brimstone at her. ‘Di Goias do not divorce.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘Excuse me? Shouldn’t you have thought of that before you decided to enter a marriage you didn’t want?’

‘You were carrying my child. I had no choice.’ His lips barely moved with his words.

She sucked in a stunned breath. ‘Wow, you do know how to keep piling on the charm, don’t you? I’m sure you would’ve made some damsel a perfect husband in the Dark Ages. Unfortunately for you, we’re in the twenty-first century, so unless I signed on to this Di Goias Do Not Divorce without knowing about it, I don’t see that you have a choice.’

His glare intensified. ‘You knew we were only marrying because of Annabelle.’

‘Wrong! I thought you were marrying me because you loved me, that you wanted to make a family with me.’

He stepped back abruptly as if she’d physically assaulted him. ‘Again with the family!’

‘What is so wrong with that?’ she yelled, suddenly not feeling so calm any more.

‘I never confessed such a feeling.’

‘I know. Stupid me, mistranslating all those heated Italian endearments you whispered to me in bed as words of devotion and undying love.’

A dull flush washed across his taut cheekbones. ‘I never lied to you about my feelings in or out of bed.’

‘But you made me think you cared about me, that you wanted what I wanted. It was a lie by omission.’

As if frustrated with her logic, he whirled away from the island and started pacing in tight circles. She followed his prowl, helpless to avert her gaze because Cesare had always been a source of intense, almost worshipful fascination for her.

He finally returned and gripped the edge of the countertop. ‘I never lied to you, Ava. And I did care.’ His gaze speared hers, almost imploring, as if he willed her to believe him.

She swallowed. ‘Obviously not enough. Ultimately, it was all about the sex for you. Shame I had to go and get pregnant, wasn’t it?’ The words were forced through a painful knot in her throat. ‘Whatever you say next, even if you think and feel it, please do not tell me you regret having our daughter.’

Pain flitted over his face. In the next instant it was gone. ‘I have not for a single moment regretted Annabelle. But you have to admit, things got very complicated very quickly with us.’

She released the breath locked in her throat and quickly swallowed down the threatening tears.

Enough.

Before she got sucked down into a quagmire of her own making, she stood. ‘Well, it’s time to de-complicate things. There’s nothing to stop me seeking a divorce so whether you want one or not doesn’t really matter. You said you shouldn’t have married me, that I was too fixated on wanting a family with you to see that you didn’t want one. I hate you for misleading me if that’s the way you really felt. You still want me—do us both a favour and don’t deny it, please. You want me but you don’t want to be married to me, and yet you still wear your wedding ring.

‘Frankly, I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but I’m done turning myself into a basket case trying to figure it out. So I don’t really give a damn if it’s the di Goia thing or not, Cesare. I want a divorce.’