“Out the front,” Marie hitched a thumb towards the reception.
“Oh, shit.” The colour drained from her face. “Can you stay here with Milly mouse?”
“Of course I can.” Marie turned to face the toddler and burst out laughing. “Just don’t ask me to touch her. What a mess you are!”
Ava’s smile was forced. “Marie, keep her in the kitchen, okay?”
Marie picked up on the note of tension and might have questioned her usually unflappable boss, except that Ava was out of the doors already.
“Cris?” She was so terrified that she forgot to be nervous. While she’d decided she had to tell him about their daughter, it absolutely couldn’t be in that moment.
“The power is out in my accommodation.”
“Oh. It is?” She frowned, and looked nervously towards the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get Jackson to come and take a look.” He had to leave now!
“That is not necessary. It is probably just a fuse. Is the power run through the house?”
“No,” she said gratefully, thinking back to when the big old switchboard had been in the kitchen. The very same kitchen that currently housed a dairy-covered toddler.
“Where is it?”
“Cristiano,” she held a hand up. “You don’t have to do this. You’re a guest. I have staff.”
“So?” He said with a shake of his head and a laugh that sent a tingle of awareness dancing along her spine. “I have no doubt I know this place better than anyone you employ.”
“That’s … besides the point. You’re a paying customer. Not my …”
His lips lifted in a gesture of amusement. “Not your …?”
“Cris …” Her voice was a plea. A noise sounded from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable tones of laughter. Two voices combined to make a single boisterous sound. “Let’s go,” she said urgently, forcing her legs to carry her out of the front doors.
He took one last look towards the kitchen and then followed behind her.
“You have to move your car,” she huffed as they walked side by side down the stairs. “That’s not a parking space.”
“It seems like it to me.”
She threw him a look of frustration. “Haven’t you learned yet that you can’t just write your own rules?”
“No, Ava. If anything, I’ve learned the exact opposite.”
“Meaning?” She demanded angrily, though of course it was fear that was in her heart, nothing more. Fear that she’d almost been caught red-handed with the enormous secret she’d been nursing for nearly three years.
He stopped walking and looked down at her, and Ava paused automatically in response. “Meaning …” he enunciated clearly but his accent was heavy and seductive. He was weighing his words; his eyes scanned her face. Then, he smiled, and it was as though the sun was beaming directly through her. “Meaning, Ava, that I have travelled the world and seen things you can only imagine. It gives one a unique perspective on life and on life’s petty rules. Such as where one may and may not park a car.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her mind spun. “That’s both arrogant and foolish.”
He shrugged in a gesture of unconcern. “Perhaps I am both those things. That is not really your problem, is it?”
“No.” She swallowed, her mouth working overtime.
“I am only here a week, after all.”
She nodded. Pain was slamming into her from all sides. He couldn’t wait to leave. He was going to hate and resent her when he discovered that leaving was not something he could do so easily, this time around.
“And then?”
He studied her and then began to walk to the cottages. “And then? My life resumes.”
“This isn’t your life?” She parried, moving quickly to keep up with him. Beautiful Milly deserved better than to be an object of disappointment. Milly was the apple of Ava’s eye. Could she possibly introduce another parent to the little girl who was used to being adored? Especially a parent like Cris, who would rail against the notion of parenthood with his last breath?
“No.”
She swallowed. “Where are you based now?” The question was glum; and with good reason. His insatiable thirst for newness and adventure had wrought the end of their relationship. And it was flatly incompatible with the responsibilities of being a father.
“Napa.”
“California?”
He nodded without looking at her. “I’m looking at buying a vineyard out there.”
Ava stopped walking abruptly, and her expression wore all the hallmarks of defeat and desperation. “You’re … what?”
His face was quizzical. “I know someone who’s selling. A particularly excellent piece of land with some of the best soil and most poorly tended vines I’ve seen.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “You’ll move there?”
He shrugged. “I can’t wander the world forever. Besides,” another shrug of those broad shoulders, “People seem to want to remunerate me exceptionally well for the work I do. It doesn’t make sense to have all that money just sitting in the bank.”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I guess not.” But why not here? Why not Australia? And why not three years ago? Everything in life came down to timing, and in this instance, it had screwed her completely.
He began to walk again, as if he didn’t realise that her mind was exploding with bitter realisations. His legs were long and he paced fast. They reached the cottages far quicker than she would have liked, given the heat of the day and her brow was beaded with fine perspiration.
She rarely looked at the cottages anymore. They were just a part of the property she adored. They were quite beautiful, really, with the vines that weaved magically between them. Each cottage was self-contained and set at enough of a distance to ensure privacy. They had been Meredith’s legacy – one of the first things she’d built when she’d bought Casa Celli. The accommodation and not the vines had been her first business instincts. After all, with three small children to care for, she needed to find a way to make money that was all driven from her home.
But the vines of Casa Celli had other ideas. Their grapes, despite being poorly tended, were excellent, and gradually she’d developed a love of crafting fine, boutique wines.
“Eh, Cris!” A voice called towards them from across the grounds. Their heads tilted in almost perfect unison. “You said you’d be right here!”
Ava didn’t recognise the woman. Then again, of all the guests who’d booked into the cottages, she’d only known two. The groom, and his brother. The Berries moved in very different circles to the Henderson sisters. Between their parents owning one of the most prestigious wineries in Australia, and their fancy private education in Sydney, they’d never really been around town like the other local children.
Cristiano waved a hand in the air in acknowledgement and then turned back to Ava with a sexy grin. “The party has already begun.”
“I can see that.” Her nod was uptight. She felt like a granny.
These guests were all a little older than her, and yet they had more freedom and fewer responsibilities than she had felt even as a ten year old. That wasn’t their fault; Ava’s personality had always been moderate and sensible. Except for that one month when Cristiano had derailed everything she’d known about herself.
She lifted her shoulders and then moved down the small path that led to his cottage. “May I?” She paused just outside the door. It was early afternoon but the scent of night flowering jasmine was already heavy in the air. She inhaled it unconsciously.
He pretended to consider it. “What do you think you might find inside?”
She rolled her eyes. “I was simply being polite.”
He reached over and planted a hand on the doorknob; his body was close to hers and she wasn’t sure if she liked or hated his proximity. His eyes bore sunshine into her soul. “There is no politeness between us, Ava. Only truth.”
The cryptic rem
ark hung between them for a moment, and then he pushed the door inwards. “After you.”
She slanted a glance at him before stepping inside.
This was her property; and her cottage. Yet, in the space of an hour, Cristiano had managed to make it his.
His suit for the wedding was hanging against a window on the far side of the room; and his suitcase was placed on one of the luggage racks. He must have showered, Ava noticed belatedly, because the bathroom was still steaming and a wet towel had been hung over the door. She looked toward him distractedly and noted the change of clothes.
“I’ll just be a moment,” she murmured, moving through the cabin towards the small kitchenette.
“If you had told me the fuse box was here, I would have fixed it myself.”
She didn’t respond. What could she say? Of course Cris would have. At least, the man she’d known would have. But years had passed, and there was a whole lot of murky business sludging between them.
“It made sense to have each cottage wired independently,” she explained. “That way, if one has a problem it’s contained. It was one of the first things I did when I …” She snapped her mouth shut. She had been about to refer to her pregnancy!
“When you?” He prompted, his voice ringing with determined coldness.
“When I could afford it,” she finished, her cheeks flushing.
Ava crouched down in front of the sink and put her hand on the door. Right before it swung open, Cristiano touched her. His fingers curled around hers and he pulled her hand back from the melamine. His eyes were trained on her left hand, and Ava stared at him in shock.
The contact was terrifyingly unwelcome; it seared her soul with remembered intimacy.
“You don’t wear a ring.”
“Ring?” She frowned up at him, her senses knocked completely off course in light of the physical contact she’d spent years trying to forget.
“Your engagement ring,” he hissed, rubbing the space it had once taken.
“Oh.” She dropped her eyes from his. “No.”
“I would have thought you would never take it off.” He dropped her hand and turned away from her. “I hated that thing.” His voice was loaded with a dark emotion.
“Did you?” Her voice was husky.
“Of course. A constant reminder that you had promised yourself to a man before meeting me? Of course I hated it.” He bit back the words that had been on the tip of his tongue. He’d hated not just the ring; he’d hated the man, too.
Ava looked away. Her heart hurt. Her eyes stung. But she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not after so long. She pulled the cabinet open forcefully and peered inside. “Just a fuse,” she said under her breath as she flicked it back into position. She ran her fingers across the others, satisfying herself that everything was as it should be, and then she backed out of the small pantry space.
Cristiano was there, crouched down behind her, so that she bumped into his broad chest and would have toppled over to the tiled floor if his large hands hadn’t reached out with lightning speed to steady her. Her breath was shallow and her eyes startled to his. He didn’t move to give her space. If anything, he inched forward, closer to her, so that she could feel his warm breath on her forehead.
She was lost in his gaze. Those same dark, chocolate eyes that had always sucked her into his orbit were hypnotising her once more. Three years after he’d stormed away from her, how could she still feel it? After all that had happened, how could it be as though an invisible rope was knotting around them and binding them together?
“Cris?” The same voice that had called him earlier was closer now. At the door? No, in his apartment.
It broke the spell. Ava slid sideways and stood, rubbing her hands down the front of her dress. “You’re back up and running.” she was speaking quickly, joining her words together out of anxiety. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Cristiano looked at the beautiful Australian with an increasing sense of frustration. He had thought he was prepared for this. After all, what was she to him now? Her betrayal had wounded him as nothing else in his life ever had. She was married. No more his now than she had been then.
Despite what her body had wanted, her heart had belonged to another man. And it still did.
Cindy strode confidently into the kitchen. “Hey, babe. You coming over? The champagne’s flowing fast.”
Her accent was American. Ava had a vague recollection of the woman having checked in the day before with the rest of the group. Though she couldn’t remember her name, she instantly recalled the address she’d used to confirm the booking. Napa Valley. Her heart fell, and it was only with great effort that Ava was able to keep the distress from her face.
“Sim,” he nodded, employing the affirmative in his native Portuguese, his voice husky.
“Oh, hey,” Cindy put a hand on Ava’s forearm as she went to move past her.
“Yes?” Ava’s smile was difficult to manage, but she pulled on some unknown reservoir and managed it.
“Do you have any more of those little biscuits that came in the room? We’ve eaten all ours.”
“Oh.” Ava nodded jerkily. “Of course. I’ll bring some down.”
“Thanks.”
Ava went gratefully from the cottage, but not before she saw the woman with the long mane of bright fair hair put a possessive hand on Cristiano’s waist. Tears stung her eyes as she stalked back to the main house, and how she hated them for her weakness!
Marie and Milly were no longer in the kitchen when she returned. Ava frowned and called out, but there was no reply. She went back upstairs, and then heard the unmistakable tones of splish splashing.
“Oh, Aves, I had to give the little pumpkin a bath. She had yoghurt caked in her nostrils,” Marie laughed. “And her fingertips and her ears and her neck folds.”
“Thanks.”
But something was wrong, and of course Marie noticed. “Ava? What is it?’
“Nothing.” Her smile was overbright.
“Do you need me for something?” Marie asked, wiping her hands on a nearby towel.
“No, no.” She was being a complete coward to shy away from going back to the row of accommodation. After all, she’d had months to prepare for Cristiano’s visit. That he had finally arrived was not something that should have been derailing her so spectacularly. “I just have to take some refreshments out to the cottages. Are you okay here?”
“Okay? Once Miss Milly is her lovely clean self again, I was planning on reading her some stories. Maybe some Stephen King or James Patterson.”
Ava let out a laugh. “Marie, have I ever told you that you’re a life saver?”
“Hundreds of times,” Marie grinned. “But I never get sick of hearing it.”
“Then you’re a lifesaver.” Ava called over her shoulder as she left the bathroom and moved back downstairs. “And no The Shining, thank you.”
Of course Marie would never have dreamed of exposing Milly to anything inappropriate. Marie had six younger sisters, and she was a dab hand at anything toddler-related. Ava had come to depend on her in a myriad of ways she hadn’t foreseen when first she’d hired the couple.
In the year and a half since Marie and Jackson had come to work for Ava, the burden of running everything single-handedly had lifted. She had someone to share her worries with. To talk to if she were lonely. To laugh with when Milly did something adorable. To turn to when she needed help. And for Ava, so used to doing things on her own for so long, this was a novelty indeed.
Oh, her sisters were wonderful. But they were far away, living their lives. Ava had learned, in a way she could never forget, that people who sought travel and adventure would never welcome the oppression of that instinct. And so she’d waved her sisters off with a smiling face and a heavy heart.
What had Cristiano said to her, the night they’d first made love? A crinkle furrowed between her brows as she began to lift her homemade cheese biscuits onto a plate. There is so much of the world I wi
sh to see. So many people and places. I will never feel complete. In my whole life, I will never feel ‘finished’, because I know I can never get everywhere I want to. But I can try.
She’d understood then with a searing clarity that Cristiano would always love travel more than anyone or anything else. Her sisters, though not quite as dramatic about it, were the same. Especially Olivia, who was forever moving about to satisfy her quest for new scenery.
It had been the right decision to let him go. She nodded to herself in a gesture of reassurance and then lifted the plate with both hands and pushed out of the kitchen.
November was a hard time for Ava. Christmas – which had always been her favourite celebration – had become an ache in her soul since losing their mother Meredith. How could she not hear the beetles in the air and feel the warmth on her skin without remembering the last time she’d experienced those things with Meredith still alive?
She angled her head unconsciously towards the ocean. The setting sun was casting the sky in shades of orange and peach, and the water seemed to glimmer with golden sparkles.
It was the most beautiful sight in the world.
No amount of travel would make Ava feel differently.
Besides, Cristiano had gone off in search of adventure, and Ava had lived one of her own.
Milly. She bit down on her lower lip when she thought of their daughter. With her enormous brown eyes and shock of curling black hair. If Cristiano saw her, he would be a fool not to wonder.
For a brief moment, perhaps, he might believe her to be Angus’s. But Angus was fair with freckles and pale skin. His eyes were green, like his father’s before him. Cristiano was no fool. He would quickly discount that notion.
Ava groaned. Her conscience was tearing her in shreds. She wanted to tell him. It had sat heavily on her shoulders for years that she had kept their daughter from him. And yet he would hate her. Both for the initial deceit, and for the very existence of a child who must curtail his free-wandering of the globe.
He would resent Milly and hate Ava, and yet he would do what he considered to be the ‘right’ thing, because Cristiano was a good man. A man who had been raised with values, who was also instinctively moral.