Marriage Made of Secrets

He stared down at her, and then proceeded to circle her. When he reached her back, she heard a harshly drawn breath.

Despite her intentions, she cringed at the sound because she knew what he was seeing. Three fragile lines barely held the bikini together. It would take little more than a tug for it to disintegrate.

‘Santa Maria. You’ve never played this dirty before,’ he croaked.

‘I’m...sorry?’

‘You’re not sorry. You’re trying to punish me, make me want you so badly, I can’t see straight.’ His mouth was next to her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Heat fired through her but she refused to back down. ‘I’m merely playing your game, Cesare. Question is, what are you going to do about it?’

He gripped her arms and whirled her to face him. ‘You want me to demonstrate the thousand different ways I want you? Now, in front of our daughter?’

‘I—’ Words failed her as shame racked through her. This wasn’t the outcome she’d wished for when she’d brazenly flung on the costume. ‘I didn’t mean to—’

‘You wanted to make me suffer, sì? Consider yourself successful. I’m burning for you, Ava. Make no mistake about that.’

Helplessly, she shook her head.

Without warning, his lips captured her lobe and he bit her less than gently. She barely managed to smother her gasp as hot darts of desire pelted her from head to toe. But, before she could completely melt under his assault, he’d released her.

By the time she’d opened her eyes, her shirt, warm from the sun, was once again around her shoulders. Cesare stood behind her until she’d folded her arms into them.

She started to move away but he grabbed her waist.

‘Are you satisfied now? Are you pleased with your little experiment?’ He pulled her back against him. The solid imprint of his arousal burned hot against her back. This time she couldn’t suppress her moan. But it was a moan of frustration and regret because she knew, much as she’d wanted him to suffer, she’d only succeeded in prolonging her own suffering.

‘Yes,’ she managed to say.

‘Good, because this is as far as you’re ever going to get, Ava.’

Her heart cracked and her legs threatened to give way. ‘Why? Have you developed a premature ejaculation problem?’ she mocked, unwilling to concede defeat despite every atom in her body wanting to slink away in shame.

Cesare gave a husky laugh. ‘Far from it, bella,’ he taunted, even as he pressed himself closer. ‘But you want a divorce, remember? So, technically, my hard-ons no longer belong to you. Think about that the next time you decide to test the fires so brazenly, tesoro mio.’

With supreme effort, she snatched herself from his arms. She stumbled a few steps before stopping to drag air into her lungs. When she was certain she could stand without collapsing, she tugged the folds of the shirt together. Her fingers shook too hard to button it, so she just held it with one hand.

When she risked a glance at Cesare, he’d wrapped a large towel around his waist and now sat on the edge of a sun lounger, his eyes tracking his daughter as she exhibited her newly learned crawl. His fists were bunched tight on his thighs and his breathing was shallow, as if he’d run a marathon.

Without a word, she turned and went inside as fast as her legs could carry her. The bikini ripped as she tugged it off. Staring at the garment in her shaking hands, she felt a huge lump wedge in her throat.

She’d pushed them both to the limit. And what had that proved? They were still as hot as hell for each other...and? And nothing.

Hot sex could never sustain a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. Deep down, she knew that.

Ava sank onto the side of the bed and finally admitted to herself the reason why she’d felt the need to test his resolve.

Her marriage was well and truly dead. It was time to accept it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ROME IN JULY was a seething, vibrant mass of sensible locals who sought shade and tourists who defiantly basked in the rapidly soaring temperatures. Ensconced in the limo heading towards the restaurant where they were meeting Cesare’s parents, Ava was grateful for the air-conditioner. What she wasn’t safe from were the thoughts reverberating in her head.

This is as far as you’re ever going to get.

She tried to push the haunting words away. They pounded harder, bringing with them a dreadful sinking in her stomach. When her phone buzzed, she pounced on it, only to frown as she saw the text sender.