by Maya Blake
‘Why? Is there another bombshell you’re going to hit me with?’
‘No, but we need to discuss what happens next and I—’
‘I...need some air. I have to think.’ His grip tightened. ‘Let me go.’
‘Ava, please. Stay.’
Her breath snagged in her lungs. ‘Why?’ Her question was soft because of the tears clogging her throat and because she didn’t dare to give life to the vain hope flaring inside. ‘Why do you want me to stay?’
Silence greeted her question. Then, ‘Because you are my wife. I made a vow to protect you and I believed I was doing the right thing by not burdening you with Roberto’s news.’
Pain ignited inside her. She barely managed to remain standing, so strong was the grief that wracked her. ‘You took other vows, too, Cesare. Or have you forgotten?’ The words scraped her throat.
‘They weren’t as important as your protection.’ An unfamiliar note altered his tone. Her heart hammered as she tried to read his expression. But his face remained inscrutable, his eyes a cool, impenetrable wall as he returned her stare.
‘No. I suppose to you they weren’t.’ Unable to withstand his gaze, she turned away. He didn’t stop her walking away.
All through her shower she felt numb. A part of her wanted to get into the first taxi, go and grab her daughter and hug her close. The other, more rational part of her knew she had to get her emotions under control before Annabelle returned. For her daughter’s sake, she knew the latter decision was best.
Dressed in white linen trousers and an aqua silk-trimmed cotton top, she caught her hair up in a bun and slipped the camera strap over her head.
When she entered the living room, Cesare stood exactly where she’d left him, but the tiny espresso cup in his hand showed he’d busied himself with other things. His face was devoid of expression as he gulped it in one smooth swallow, set the cup down and came towards her.
Ava backed away. ‘I...what time are your parents bringing Annabelle back?’
‘After lunch, but we can make it sooner or later. Just say the word.’
She shook her head. ‘After lunch is fine. I...I’ll make sure I’m back by then.’ She headed for the door, and stopped when he fell into step beside her.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘No, you’re not. I told you, I need some air.’
‘There’s enough air out there for both of us, I’m sure.’
‘I meant alone.’
‘Out of the question. You’re reeling from the news I’ve laid at your feet. I recognize that, as the person who’s caused you pain, I’m the last person you want around you, but you’re my responsibility nonetheless.’
‘What? Suddenly your security detail isn’t up to the job?’
‘Why delegate when I’m in the position to do a better job?’
‘Now you choose to play the attentive husband?’
His jaw tightened. ‘I married you. I brought this chaos to your doorstep. And I’m damned if I’m going to abandon you now to deal with it alone. We deal with it together. And call me selfish, Ava, but I’m hoping staying with you will earn me your forgiveness quicker. And, who knows, if I manage to save you from being hit on by a mercenary local, then I may even gain some Brownie points.’
Her hand tightened around the camera. Looking at him, at the visible distress in his face, made the tightness in her chest loosen a little. ‘It’s not going to be that easy, Cesare. To be honest, I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now.’
He nodded. ‘Then we won’t talk. Just walk, sì?’ He moved past her and held the door open.
With a sigh, she went through it and waited while he called up the lift.
They walked for an hour without speaking, heading west instead of east where most of the popular Roman landmarks were located. Ava concentrated on documenting the local life.
But, even lost in the one thing she loved to do most aside from being a mother, she was hyper-aware of Cesare’s pain-ravaged presence beside her. The part of her that acknowledged he must be reeling wanted to offer comfort. But her own shock was too great to process.
He might have suggested they wouldn’t talk but she soon realised he had no intention of keeping his hands to himself—a hand in the small of her back to guide her across the street; around her waist to steer her clear of a group of excited tourists or a careless scooter, or a touch on her shoulder to draw her attention to a statue or a fresco he thought she might be interested in.
When the sun rose higher, he led her to a small local shop and bought her a wide straw hat, sun cream and a bottle of water.
Her breath caught as he squeezed a dollop of cream onto his fingers and applied it to her arms and face. When she lifted questioning eyes to his, his merely responded—I don’t want you to burn.
Ava could’ve told him it was too late. She was already burning in hell. His every gesture demonstrated his regret for having kept Roberto’s deterioration and death from her. Aside from that damning decision, everything else he’d done since had been to protect both her and Annabelle. Quietly, Ava had to concede that if she had been told so soon after nearly losing Annabelle in the earthquake, she wasn’t sure she would’ve withstood the blow.
Her thoughts scattered when Cesare’s arm slid around her shoulders. When she glanced at him, he nodded at a trattoria across the square overlooking the Tiber.
‘We skipped breakfast. And also I think it’s time to get out of the heat.’
Although she suspected she wouldn’t be able to hold down a single mouthful, she reluctantly nodded.
The owner broke into a smile and ushered them in the moment he recognized Cesare. After they were seated in a far corner of the cool trattoria, Cesare ordered cornetti, fruit and coffee, along with a selection of sliced Parma ham.
Once they were alone, he sat back and watched her with narrowed eyes.
‘I...haven’t forgotten that in all this you’ve also received a horrible shock,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Does that mean I’m not in Hades any more?’ he murmured.
She plucked the hat from her head and set it down on the spare chair along with her camera. ‘First of all, I want to know everything about this condition, and I mean everything. No protecting me from the unsavoury facts.’
‘I don’t want you to worry about—’
‘No, Cesare. I want to know everything!’
His lips firmed but he nodded. ‘Celine emailed me a report. I’ll forward it to you.’
‘Also, we have to tell Annabelle—’
‘No, she’s too young to understand.’
After a second she nodded. ‘Okay, but as soon as she’s old enough, we’ll tell her. I don’t want her kept in the dark.’
‘Sì, I agree.’ He met her surprised gaze with a mocking smile. ‘You see, I’m learning the error of my ways. Which brings me to another subject.’
‘What subject?’
‘Us,’ he stated baldly.
‘Did we not agree only a few nights ago that there was no us?’
‘I think in light of recent developments, we need to revise that view.’
‘Recent developments...you mean us having sex? That changes anything, how?’
His hands fisted until his knuckles turned white. ‘Are you saying it doesn’t?’
A dart of pain arrowed through her. ‘You said it yourself, Cesare—the sex has always been mind-blowing between us, but it doesn’t form the basis of a sound relationship, let alone marriage. I need more.’
His normally golden features paled. He opened his mouth but, before he could speak, their waiter approached, platters held high. Cesare’s gaze remained fixed on hers the whole time the owner fluttered around them
in effusive Italian. After a minute, he fell into silence when he realised neither of them paid attention.
The second he left, Cesare rasped, ‘And if I’m unable to give you more?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ll do anything and everything to ensure Annabelle remains healthy and safe. Between us we can plan for one of us to always be with her. I’ll make sure that works for any future assignments. But when it comes to you and I, Cesare, unless something changes drastically between us other than the mind-blowing sex, I don’t see why we need to stay married. Do you?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THEIR SECOND ATTEMPT at breakfast failed. Miserably. Neither of them could summon the words to reassure the trattoria owner that it wasn’t the food.
When Cesare grimly collected her things and marched her out into the sunlight, Ava was more than ready to leave. Paolo was parked on the kerb, a fact which didn’t surprise her one little bit. Cesare was worth billions, after all, which meant he could probably summon his car with a mere thought.
He slid in beside her on the limo’s back seat and sent up the partition.
‘Ava...’
‘Please, can we go and get Annabelle? I want to see my baby.’
His lips compressed for a second. Then he nodded. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he made a call, presumably to his parents. Minutes later he ended the call.
‘They’ve taken her to the zoo. We can collect her from there once we get our things from the apartment.’
‘I don’t want—’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t force you to have this conversation now. But it will be discussed.’
‘What is there to discuss? I won’t subject myself to a marriage based on sex.’
‘Last night’s events suggested differently. Are you sure you’re not refusing to consider us because of another reason?’ A shadow of vulnerability echoed through his words.
It took a couple of seconds for her to grasp his meaning. ‘You think just because we’ve discovered you carry a defective gene, I’m taking the opportunity to bail out of a marriage you didn’t want in the first place? You’re unbelievable, Cesare.’
He had the decency to redden. ‘So you still maintain your need for a family above everything else?’
‘Yes. I want a family, and that’s not what you’ve offered. You’ve offered distance, secrets and the occasional sex marathon. I want to be needed; I want to be loved. I want you to come to me when you have a problem, not turn to your childhood friend or deal with it alone. God, you don’t trust me, not even when it comes to sex.’
He frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Last night, in bed...you...you pulled out before you... The first time I thought I’d imagined it. Then you did it again. I don’t have to be a genius to work out that the last thing you want is to get me pregnant again!’
He cursed under his breath. ‘Why does that surprise you? You got pregnant with Annabelle despite my use of condoms and you being on the Pill.’
‘Can’t you see what’s wrong? Once again, you’ve decided, without asking me how I feel about it.’
‘And if we’d had the talk you so desperately craved last night, if I’d laid all my cards on the table, would you still have come to my bed?’
‘I guess we’ll never know now, because you didn’t.’
‘Santa cielo, I can’t believe you’re condemning our marriage based on the fact that I won’t come inside you!’
Heat engulfed her face and neck. ‘You’re vile! I’m condemning our marriage because you’ve never trusted me enough to tell me the things that matter!’
‘I’ve told you everything!’
‘How do I know? You didn’t even tell me Roberto had died. I have to drag everything out of you. Well, guess what? That machismo thing may be sexy for a while, but it wears thin eventually, especially when you know I’m not a wallflower who’s scared of my own shadow. Face it, Cesare. Even though you claim not to, you’re still trying to protect me. And it hurts.’
Relief shot through her when she realised they’d reached the apartment. She lunged for the door and was halfway to the lift before Cesare caught up with her.
‘Ava, stop—’
Her phone pinged and she pounced on it. Seeing the message, her fury grew. ‘For the love of sweet baby meerkats, please tell Agata Marinello you’re not going to her son’s wedding before I kill her!’
In silence, he withdrew his phone from his pocket and tapped in a few keys. ‘It is done.’ The lift came and he stepped in after her.
Just before the lift shut, her phone pinged again. Her mouth dropped open at the effusive message displayed on her screen.
‘You’re going to the wedding?’
He eyed her with a mixture of triumph and determination.
‘Sì. I’ve messed up big time where we’re concerned. But I’m owning it now.’
Her heart hammered. ‘What does that mean—you’re owning it?’
‘It means you’re not going to get rid of me that easily, mia bella moglie.’
* * *
When they picked Annabelle up an hour later, Ava had to restrain herself from smothering her child in hugs while Cesare stood a distance away talking to his parents. Her heart tightened when she saw the stricken look on their faces.
As he hugged his mother and shook his father’s hand, she contented herself with holding Annabelle’s hand as she was regaled with tales from the giraffe pen and the varied animals she’d become best friends with at the zoo.
In the car, she fought back tears, especially when she caught Cesare’s bleak stare.
‘How are your parents?’
His haunted gaze connected with hers. ‘They didn’t know and they’ll need time to process it. I’ve arranged for the specialist to speak to them and I plan to speak to them myself in a few days.’
She nodded and glanced at Annabelle, then blinked back more tears as emotion welled up.
‘Mummy! You’re not listening.’
‘Yes, I am, sweetie. You’re telling me how tall the giraffes were.’
‘No, I said the leopard had millions and millions of spots.’
‘Oh yes, of course, the leopard...’ Her gaze caught Cesare’s and her heart tripped at the sheen of tears in his eyes. Pushing aside her own pain, she grasped his hand and felt it tighten around hers.
Her life might have fallen down a rabbit hole, but her reason for living—her daughter—was also Cesare’s reason for living. She had no doubt about that now.
They got to Lake Como by mid-afternoon. Although she protested long and hard, Annabelle eventually went down for a nap after a quick swim with Cesare.
Ava immersed herself in the last preparations for the wedding. She chose three of her best cameras, then, after a short contemplation, added the newest camera.
She reached for it and, almost on automatic, clicked onto the pictures of Cesare she’d taken that morning. Pain tightened in her chest as she read the meaning behind his anguish. Without warning, the tears she’d held at bay prickled her eyes. The faster she dashed the tears away, the quicker they fell.
‘Ava?’
She stiffened. ‘Not now, Cesare. I’m going to need a bit more time to deal with this.’
He came closer. Of course he did. ‘You’re crying.’ His observation sounded hugely pained.
‘I suppose you’re going to order me to stop.’
‘I learned a long time ago that I can’t order you to do anything, cara. But I would like you to tell me why you’re crying.’
‘So you can add it to the list of things to protect me from?’
‘So we can work through it.’
A bitter laugh scratched her throat. ‘Do the words too little too late mean anything to you?’
He sat down ne
xt to her and every cell in her body reacted to his heat and proximity.
‘We haven’t reached there yet.’ Without warning, he reached out and took the camera from her. Tense silence permeated the living room as he clicked through the pictures. When he’d finished, he turned off the camera and placed it on the large antique table where she’d been working. ‘If those pictures moved you to tears, then we’re not as irredeemable as you make out.’
Her lips firmed. ‘Maybe they were cathartic tears, the I’m-moving-on type.’
He reached out and pulled her close, one hand capturing her nape to hold her steady. Tilting her chin with his thumb, he looked deep into her eyes. ‘You’re hurting for me, for us. And, as much as I would like to take your pain away, I’m learning that it’s your pain; you have to deal with it. I don’t like to see you cry, of course, but don’t tell me to walk away when you’re hurting.’
She tried to swallow past the huge lump lodged in her throat. ‘Stop it, Cesare.’
‘Stop what?’
‘Stop teasing me with the promise of the man I thought I married. I can’t take it.’
A grim smile curved his lips. ‘We’ll get through this, cara.’
Tears surged again. ‘I really don’t see how.’
‘We agreed on a truce on your first day back. I know the past few days have rocked that a little.’
She gave another laugh. ‘That’s the understatement of the millennia.’
He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Heat surged through her, desire drenching her in a heady rush. When he pulled away, she nearly moaned in protest. ‘It’s strong enough to hold for a little while longer, at least until after the Marinello wedding on Saturday. We’ll get away from here, go to the vineyard in Tuscany for a few days, yes?’
The promise of a reprieve, of not having to make a decision one way or the other about the state of her marriage, was one she welcomed, despite the full knowledge that it was only temporary. At Cesare’s insistent look, she nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Bene. I’ve told Lucia to serve dinner early. She’s making your favourite—fettucine ai funghi. I’m hoping this time we’ll make it past the seeing-but-not-eating stage.’