Cathy Williams - Summer Loving

He merely smiled.

She cleared her throat and removed her hand. ‘Celine, hello.’

‘Ciao, Ava,’ she answered. Her tone was warm, totally devoid of censure, which made Ava feel worse.

‘Look, I’m sorry about the other night...’ As she made her apologies, it occurred to her that she’d made a lot of them in the last hour.

‘...being married to a man like Cesare would make any woman guard her place in his heart. He’s very special.’

The arrogant upward curve of his mouth told her Cesare had heard Celine’s words.

‘He’s also stubborn and extremely infuriating,’ Ava muttered.

Celine laughed. ‘You won’t hear any arguments from me. But his heart is in the right place. Please remember that.’

The vehemence in Celine’s tone made Ava frown. She watched Cesare put his tablet away and couldn’t look away from the elegant hand he rested on his thighs. The memory of those hands on her skin hit her sideways. Her fingers clenched around the phone; Celine’s words were lost in a jumble as heat surged through her.

She glanced up to find Cesare’s eyes on her. Unable to pull her gaze away, she pressed her lips together to stop them tingling. After a few seconds his eyes flicked to the phone, his brow raised.

Celine was calling her name. Embarrassed, she apologized—again—then forced herself to conduct a somewhat coherent conversation. Minutes later, she gratefully disconnected the call.

Cesare laughed under his breath.

‘Smugness is an unattractive trait,’ she snapped, her voice disgustingly husky from the feelings rampaging through her.

His smile only widened. ‘But it does my heart good to watch you eat humble pie,’ he returned.

‘Well, before I dig in, you should know I’ve accepted an invitation for Celine’s birthday tonight.’ She named the club. ‘She’s texting me the details shortly.’

His smile disappeared. Cesare hated nightclubs.

With a satisfied smile of her own, she held out his phone. ‘Not so smug now, huh, caro?’

* * *

Cesare let himself into his apartment just before seven that evening and was immediately struck by the silence. It was different from this afternoon, when the sound of Annabelle’s laughter coupled with Ava’s huskier laugh had bounced off the walls. Realising how badly he missed it, he dropped his briefcase and loosened his tie.

Nothing was going according to plan. The business he’d thought he would have concluded by mid-afternoon today had stretched well into the evening. He knew his lack of concentration had been mostly to blame. He hadn’t missed the surreptitious glances his board executives had exchanged when they’d thought he wasn’t aware.

How could they know he was dreading the next few hours? This was the first time he’d be alone—truly alone—with Ava. And he didn’t trust himself one iota.

Stalking to the cabinet, he plucked a glass from the shelf and contemplated the extensive array of drinks. He poured a shot of cognac, knocked it back and slammed the glass down.

Get a grip!

He eyed his briefcase. Part of the answer to his problems lay in there. All he had to do was sign the divorce papers his lawyers had drawn up and Ava would be out of his life.

He stepped forward and stopped when something soft gave way underfoot. Bending down, he picked up Annabelle’s teddy. With a pang, he clutched the toy and clenched his gut against the pain shooting through him.

He loved his child beyond imagining, and yet he’d never been able to celebrate that love without a heavy dose of guilt. How could he when his actions had deprived Roberto of the same joy of being a father?

Cesare placed the teddy on the table. A sound behind him made him turn.

Ava stood at the entrance to the hallway, dressed in a long satin robe, her freshly washed and shining hair falling over one shoulder in an innocently seductive gesture that made his head swim. His chest tightened and he forced himself to remain still, to fight the urge to drag her close, imprison that trim waist and devour her lips with his.

‘I thought I heard someone in here.’ She moved into the room. As hard as he fought, he couldn’t stop his gaze straying to the sensual sway of her hips.

His whole body tautened so tight he was sure he’d snap in two.

Santa cielo! A year without sex was messing with his mind. Only monks took perpetual vows of celibacy. And his body was reminding him in the most elemental, primitive way possible that he was no monk.

He turned away to hide his growing hard-on.

‘I just got in. Did my parents get away with Annabelle okay?’

Her robe whispered as she came closer. He closed his eyes. Before long her scent would reach him. Mingled dread and fierce anticipation scythed through him.

‘Yes.’ He heard the smile in her voice. ‘I’m not sure which one of them was more excited. Their plans for tomorrow exhausted me and all I did was listen to them.’

‘She left her teddy.’ He needed to fill the silence or give in to the urge to touch her.

‘Hmm, I know. I called Carmela and offered to take it over but she said no. I think I handed her the perfect excuse to take Annabelle shopping for another one.’

Unable to resist any longer, he turned. Her smile was breathtaking. Dio mio, everything about her was breathtaking. Shoving one hand through his hair, he pulled his tie away completely with the other.

‘What time is Celine’s thing?’ Getting out of here might help with this unrelenting obsession to keep checking out his future ex-wife.

‘Eight o’clock for drinks and dinner, then on to the club.’

He grimaced. The last thing he wanted was to socialise to the beat of thumping music. But anywhere else was preferable to being cooped up in this apartment, alone with Ava and his shockingly impure thoughts.

‘Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.’

Her fingers toyed with the knot in her robe belt. He directed his gaze elsewhere.

‘I’d hoped you’d return earlier. You said we needed to talk?’ she ventured.

‘I’m sorry, I was delayed. Unavoid—’ He stopped when her smile dimmed. ‘We don’t have to stay long at Celine’s party. We’ll talk when we get back, sì?’

Her lips firmed. ‘We’d better. The suspense is killing me.’

Twenty minutes later, he was seriously contemplating calling off the evening. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he disappointed Celine.

Grimly, he slid silver cufflinks into his black silk shirt, shrugged on his dinner jacket and emerged from his room just as Ava shut the door to the guest room.

His couldn’t describe the miasma of emotions that fizzed through him.

The emerald-green thigh-length sheath she wore had no back. He knew this because her skin was exhibited in soft, gleaming peach-perfect invitation.

‘Are you missing something?’ His voice sounded strained even to his own ears.

She performed a perfect pirouette and then stared wide-eyed at him. The tingle of satisfaction he felt that she still found him attractive disappeared underneath the seething idea of other men seeing her in that piece of nothing.

She made a show of touching her fingers to the diamond studs in her lobes and the stylish pendant around her throat before checking the silver open-toed heels on her feet.

‘No, I think I’m all set.’ Her hair gleamed in the light as she raised her gaze to his.

‘Are you sure, because you look stunning, but I think you’re missing several yards of material at the back of your dress.’

Despite the surge of blood reddening her cheeks, she raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, and suddenly you care how I look, Cesare?’

His gut tightened at the blow. ‘Sì, I care. We aren’t divorced...yet. I don’t want other men to get ideas about you.’