A Dangerous Solace
‘S-sorry?’
‘What is the Australian saying? We need to screw like rabbits until the novelty’s worn off.’
Ava gaped. ‘We what?’
‘Is the vernacular wrong?’
She was about to tell him exactly how wrong he was, even as her pulse sped up, when she caught the glint in his golden eyes from beneath those sinfully thick black lashes and everything painful and wrong about her life tumbled away.
He wasn’t laughing at her, she realised. He was including her in the joke. And with that a very important piece of that long-ago jigsaw moved into place. She remembered—this was how he’d made her feel. As if she wasn’t on the outside looking in any more. As if it were all about him and her, their own exclusive little club.
‘Yes, the vernacular is wrong,’ she said a little faintly.
He smiled at her and she felt her heart lift, as if it were attached to strings connected to his wide, sensual mouth.
Her own mouth twitched. She was not going to laugh.
‘And I can assure you that won’t be happening,’ she followed up quickly. But as much as she tried to sound prim and decisive it all collapsed as everything tense and painful inside her unravelled.
He reached over and did something so unexpected she stopped breathing. He cradled her cheek with his hand, forcing her to look at him, following the curve of her cheekbone gently with the pad of his thumb.
‘So we are agreed?’
She wanted to push his hand away, bristle like a cat under a pail of water, but this sudden gentleness on his part brought her ridiculously ready emotions to the surface. She blinked rapidly.
‘You remind me of those little porcupines, rolling into a ball of bristles to protect yourself, but underneath you have this soft, velvety little belly.’
‘Porcupines are rodents,’ she retorted, wondering if that reference to her belly was because, unlike the women he dated, she had one. ‘Trust you to compare me to a pest.’
Then she realised she’d just scrambled to protect herself—exactly as he’d said.
‘What is it you’re running from? What is it that threatens you, Ava?’ His voice was quiet and he continued to stroke her.
Her heart was fluttering wildly. She could feel herself wanting to lean against him, of all things wanting to confide in him, tell him how confused she was feeling, being back here in Italy with him, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake seven years ago and not wanting to make a worse one now.
She looked into his eyes and he smiled. ‘You find me attractive, si? It is nothing to be ashamed of.’
Saved by his ego! She knocked his hand away. Just as all sorts of longings had risen to the surface they were swamped by his incredible arrogance. ‘Oh, yes, all women must find you utterly irresistible. It just must gall you to know I’m immune.’
‘Immune?’ His fingers, so gentle on her cheek, drummed lightly on the frame of the bike. ‘How much easier this would be if you were. I wouldn’t have to put up with your constant attention-seeking.’
‘Attention-what? I’m doing nothing of the sort.’ She looked away, because if she was honest it was a whopper of a lie. She had been enjoying having his whole attention all day. ‘It’s just your colossal ego,’ she muttered.
‘I seem to remember you admired my ego seven years ago, cara.’
Ava swung around. ‘I don’t want to talk about that!’
‘Yes, you do,’ he growled. ‘It’s all you want to talk about.’
Caught off guard by the truth, she lashed out. ‘I was stupid. You took advantage of me!’
‘You were the older woman,’ he inserted with that incredible cool.
Ava shot him an incredulous look. ‘I can’t believe you’re throwing my age at me!’
He made an impatient gesture of disbelief with one hand and with another movement slid his hand into the backpack strapped behind the bike. He uncapped a bottle and thrust it at her.
‘What’s that for?’
‘To cool you down. I don’t have a bucket of water to hand.’
‘I’m not the one talking about rabbits,’ she grumbled, irritated because she was breathless all of a sudden. Even fighting with him turned her on. This was most unlike her! She took a swallow and handed it back to him.
He didn’t wipe the rim, just took a swig. Ava watched the muscles working in his throat and tried not to stare.
It was so unfair. Everything about him made her want to jump him.
She literally felt him smile as he recapped the bottle.
‘I would never have slept with you if I’d been in the right frame of mind that night,’ she muttered, more to herself than to him.
He stilled, and the easy amusement was suddenly long gone.