as civilised, so let’s not hang that particular label on it.’
‘Speak for yourself. You might wish to wallow in caveman-like behaviour but I don’t have to stoop to your level.’ Somehow, she would overcome the riotous emotions Cesare engendered in her. For her daughter’s sake.
Again, she pulled away. This time he let her go.
‘Throw a gloss over it if you wish, cara. We both know the truth. When we let it free, our passion is uncontrollable.’
Eyes tracking her like a pitiless bird of prey eyeing a juicy rabbit, he pushed the door open, stood to one side and folded his arms.
For a second she couldn’t move as she was drawn to the play of muscles underneath his shirt. Was it her imagination or were the hairs that peeked through his unbuttoned polo shirt even silkier?
Forcing her gaze away, she crossed the threshold of Lake Como’s most breathtaking palazzo, the place she’d called home for the past four years.
The terracotta exterior with its multi-fountained courtyard, tiered gardens and baking paving stones sharply contrasted with the cool cream interior. High, perfectly preserved stuccoed walls framed vaulted ceilings where discreetly placed conditioners circulated cool air through the rooms.
On either side of the exquisitely trellised archways that fed the hallways leading to the four wings of the villa, tall shuttered windows had been thrown wide open, drenching the room with dazzling light.
A quick glance around was all she allowed herself but it was enough to make her catch her breath all over again. From the exquisite pieces arranged in the hallway to the impressive Renaissance art and family portraits that hung on the walls, the palazzo was still reminiscent of the time when the Villa di Goia had been a renowned museum. The Venetian marble and parquet floors beneath her feet gleamed with the opulent gloss only the super rich could afford.
‘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
