Cathy Williams - Summer Loving

‘Nothing has changed since you were last here, Ava. I suggest you spend less time admiring the architecture and more time on explaining yourself. You now have eight minutes.’ Tension seethed beneath the veneer of calm he presented.

She breathed in a deep breath and faced him. ‘I suggest you stop the clock watching and help me with Annabelle. Unless you want a cranky child on your hands?’

The faint widening of his eyes was barely distinguishable, but she saw it nonetheless. Had the situation not been fraught with tension, Ava would’ve laughed. As it was, her daughter’s weight seemed to be doubling by the second.

His lips firmed, then he stepped forward and calmly relieved her of her burden.

Ava heard a faint intake of breath as he hitched her close to his chest.

‘She looks well,’ he rasped, his voice a shade deeper.

‘She is. The doctor is happy with her progress,’ she stressed, flexing her arm to relieve the painful stinging needles.

More emotion flashed across Cesare’s face as he continued to gaze at his daughter. Ava didn’t need a crystal ball to divine that he was thinking of the last time he’d held her like this. The indescribable emotions that had gripped them both when they’d finally found her after the earthquake...

He turned abruptly towards the majestic sweep of stairs that led to the upper floors. His long strides made short work of the grand trellised staircase and she had to move quickly to keep up with him.

When he turned towards the east wing, Ava couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘You’ve relocated her bedroom?’ Annabelle’s room had previously been in the west wing.

‘Sì, I’ve rearranged a few things. I wanted her to be close to me when she returned.’ His voice was gruff, irritated, as if he didn’t wish to be questioned. Another dagger of ice pierced her heart. Me, not us.

Following him into the room, Ava bit back a gasp.

The room had been redecorated in Annabelle’s favourite colours of pink and green, complete with canopied bed. Toys of every description a child could want dotted the room but she noticed that the long-maned horses which were Annabelle’s favourite were especially plentiful.

She watched as he gently placed Annabelle on the wide bed and stepped back. He waved her away when she stepped forward to help, and took off Annabelle’s shoes and socks.

Pulling a light sheet over her shoulders, he plucked a stuffed horse off a shelf and laid it in the crook of her arm.

Pain scythed through her. How many times had she wished Cesare would do this when Annabelle was a baby? How many times had she dreamed of him bending down to kiss his daughter’s forehead, murmur buono notte, bambina...?

She managed the pain for a second before he turned from the bed, his gaze slamming into hers.

‘Come. Our daughter’s presence is no longer an issue. Let’s have that talk, shall we?’ With purposeful strides, he headed for the door.

Tension emanated from the broad, set shoulders and, with every click of her heels on the marble floor, her own tension grew. She rubbed sweaty palms on the folds of her long skirt and suppressed the anxiety growing inside her.

She arrived in the living room to find him facing the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lush, perfectly manicured gardens and private mooring that abutted the world-famous lake. The view was so breathtaking, her fingers briefly itched for her camera before she forced herself to focus.

Cesare’s gaze tracked a sleek speedboat skimming across the turquoise water but she knew his mind was locked in the room.

‘You should’ve waited in Bali until I came to collect you, Ava.’ He spoke without turning.

‘I’ve never been good at taking orders without question, you know that. And you didn’t seem to be in a particular hurry to bring us back home.’

‘You had everything you needed.’

‘Yes, the staff you hired for us were highly trained and extremely resourceful. I only had to lift a finger for my every wish to be catered for.’

‘But?’

‘But I’d had enough of being surrounded by complete strangers. It wasn’t good for Annabelle. So here we are,’ she said calmly.

‘You should’ve told me!’

‘What exactly is the problem here? Are you angry that I wanted to come home or annoyed that I dared to question your authority?’

He inhaled sharply. ‘A lot has changed—’

‘I’m very much aware of that. Staying away wasn’t going to make it any better.’

‘So why return earlier than we planned?’ he enquired.

‘Because this isn’t just about you, Cesare. Life goes on and I need to make sure Annabelle returns to normal as quickly as possible. Besides, when I told you my plans had changed, I meant it. I’ve been contracted to cover the Marinello wedding.’

He frowned. ‘You’re an award-winning documentary photographer. When did you branch into covering celebrity weddings?’

‘Annabelle needs to be around the familiar for the foreseeable future. I’m not taking her on assignment to the far reaches of the planet. She needs me to be here.’

His jaw tightened. ‘The Marinello wedding is turning into a media circus. I won’t have Annabelle exposed to that sort of environment.’

‘I’ve never let my work disrupt her life in any way. It definitely won’t this time round.’

‘You didn’t think to inform me of this Marinello thing before now?’

‘Just take it as the side effect of my aversion to being abandoned.’

‘You weren’t abandoned. Annabelle needed medical care and she couldn’t travel before then.’

‘Yes, but that stay wasn’t indefinite. Although I’m beginning to suspect maybe that’s what you had in mind.’

‘It wasn’t. I agree that Annabelle needs to be home, but not...’ He paused.

The cold grip on her spine intensified. ‘Not your wife?’ When he refused to reply, she let out a shaky breath. ‘You don’t have to say it, Cesare.’ Her smile cracked around the edges. ‘Annabelle’s welfare is my priority right now. As long as she remains okay, you can go back to being indifferent to me. Or go back to Rome.’

A dangerous gleam flashed through his eyes. He balled his fists, his nostrils flaring. For a very long time he didn’t speak. The air crackled with each charged heartbeat. Finally, he rasped, ‘I’m staying here for the summer.’

Her heart skipped a beat, then immediately fell when she read the displeasure on his face. ‘Then this is going to be very awkward for one of us.’

‘I don’t want you here. Not right now.’

The blunt words stung deep.

‘Why not?’

‘I’m in the middle of...’ He stopped and shoved a hand through his hair. ‘We both know things haven’t been right between us for a while. But I can’t be...distracted by anything right now.’

She pulled in a shaky breath and reminded herself why she was doing this. She set her bag down on the coffee table in the middle of the room. ‘The state of your marriage is an inconvenient distraction?’

A nerve pulsed in his jaw. ‘Especially the state of our marriage. If you’d stayed in Bali—’

‘I didn’t. You like to control people and things around you but I’m not one of them. This is your home as much as it is mine so I can’t exactly throw you out. So you’ll just have to tolerate my presence here, just like you have to tolerate your daughter.’

‘Tolerate her? I’m her father.’

‘Trust me, I know a thing or two about being tolerated. I don’t think you’d want your performance as a father or husband to be rated. You wouldn’t like the results.’

His colour receded a little beneath his vibrant tan and the room seemed to darken with turbulent forces. She watched him visibly swallow. ‘If you want the civilised conversation you claim to want, I’d advise you to tread carefully, Ava. What is happening between us will not affect our daughter.’