Marriage Made of Secrets
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, momentarily casting the terrace in shadow. The portentous effect wasn’t lost on her.
She’d risked her heart again by sleeping with Cesare last night. A heart that had never completely healed from being battered once. Now she knew she’d placed it in harm’s way again.
Her fingers clenched around the camera when she heard Cesare’s key in the lock. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room just as he entered.
He saw her and paused. Wordlessly, his gaze raked over her, sending her pulse on a roller coaster dive.
‘Thank you for this—’ she indicated the camera ‘—it’s very kind of you.’
‘Prego.’ His gaze stopped at her bare feet, then climbed back up. ‘I wasn’t sure what I’d hope for more on my return—to find you still in my bed or to have the temptation of making love to you again taken away from me by you being out of it. Not that a bed is necessarily a means to an end.’ The grim delivery of his words made her heart drop further into despair.
‘You don’t sound like you would’ve preferred the former option.’
His ragged laugh as he veered towards the kitchen caught at her insides. ‘Trust me, cara, I would’ve enjoyed it. I would take sweet oblivion with you over reality any day.’
She trailed behind him. ‘So, you don’t regret last night?’
The carton containing their breakfast landed on the countertop none too gently, followed by his phone. He came at her, stopping a bare inch shy of touching distance.
‘I explored your body so thoroughly that every inch, every kissable freckle is imprinted on my memory. I should be sated but my hunger for you burns with a force that almost hurts. Right this minute I would love nothing more than to spread you over this counter, bury my mouth between your legs, lap my tongue over your sweet spot until you come for me, again and again. Does that sound like regret to you?’ he breathed, his eyes fixed on hers in studied concentration.
Ava wasn’t sure how it was possible to feel hot and cold at the same time. But she did. Somehow, she managed to croak, ‘No.’
His body tight with tension, he stepped back and strode over to the coffee machine. ‘I’ll make another cup for you. This one’s cold.’
‘Cesare, what’s wrong?’ she asked because something was wrong. Desperately wrong. Despite her bold words, she quaked inside.
His shoulders stiffened, but he carried on pushing buttons. Only when the familiar sound of coffee percolating echoed through the kitchen did he face her.
‘You know that bit in a movie when you know the good guy has done something really bad and is going to get it in the neck but you keep rooting for him anyway?’
Ava set her camera down before she dropped it. ‘Yes?’ Her voice emerged shaky.
‘That’s not me, Ava. I’m the bad guy, who selfishly took what he shouldn’t have, then compounded his situation by making things a million times worse.’
‘How have you made things worse?’
He shook his head as if words failed him. She moved towards him, her feet hardly making a sound across the hardwood floor.
Cesare heaved a breath, struggled to calm the riotous feelings rampaging through him. He raked a hand through his hair, unable to bear the thought of telling her what he’d woken to—what the future held for them.
When he lowered his hand, Ava reached for it. He focused on her, his heart thumping now to a different beat, the hard pounding of want, of the selfish need to forget the last ten minutes. To go back and suspend time at the exact moment he’d woken up in Ava’s arms.
But questions flooded her eyes—questions she’d grown so tired of asking but had never diminished nonetheless. What had she asked him? What was wrong? As if he’d spoken aloud, she nodded. ‘Tell me,’ she demanded firmly.
He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t form. To speak would be to condemn him to hell for ever. But he’d known as he’d torn himself from Ava’s warmth this morning and seen the missed call from Celine that he’d run out of time.
His hand tightened around hers and he led her to the living room and urged her down onto the sofa. He paced, yearning with everything inside him not to have to shatter her peace. She watched him, her expectant gaze gradually turning into a frown.
‘For God’s sake, whatever it is, just spit it out. Please,’ she added, her plump lips trembling before she firmed them. ‘You’re scaring me with that bringer-of-the-Apocalypse look.’