Summer Loving. Cathy Williams

fingers stilled on the banana she was peeling for Annabelle and she watched father and daughter converse—one voice a deep, gravelly tone, the other a childish but attentive copying that filled her heart with equal measures of pride and pain.

      As if sensing her gaze, Cesare glanced up.

      The breath left her lungs and her heart careened around her ribcage like a crazed animal seeking freedom.

      Even after Annabelle grabbed her banana and settled in her seat to munch on it, he continued to stare at her. Heat arced between them, just like it had from the very first time they’d met.

      Once again the stinging betrayal of her need echoed between her legs. A helpless moan escaped her before she quickly disguised it as a cough.

      His eyes darkened nevertheless.

      ‘Stop it,’ she muttered fiercely.

      He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. ‘Can’t help it.’

      ‘Try harder!’ Or she was scared she’d spontaneously combust the way her pulse was skittering out of control.

      Tawny eyes narrowed. ‘Is that an order?’

      ‘It’s a friendly health warning.’

      His smile was pure male arrogance, his gaze unwavering as he sipped his coffee.

      ‘My parents wish to see Annabelle. I also have a few meetings in Rome, so it would be a good time to make it happen.’

      ‘How are they coping with...’ she paused, her glance sliding to Annabelle ‘...with what happened to Roberto?’

      A flash of pain passed over Cesare’s face, his eyes straying to Annabelle. ‘As most parents would, I expect.’ His gaze returned to Ava. ‘They need not know about our...situation just yet. I don’t want them upset.’

      Ava abandoned the pretence of eating and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘They know we’ve lived apart for a year, Cesare.’

      ‘But my mother assumes since we’re both here, living under the same roof that we’ve resolved our differences. Once the summer is over, we’ll update them on what they need to know.’

      Against her will, but because she didn’t want to cause any further distress to newly bereaved parents, she nodded. ‘When were you thinking of going to Rome?’ Annabelle’s grandparents doted on her and she’d never deny Orsini and Carmela di Goia the chance to see their granddaughter.

      ‘Monday morning. I have meetings in the afternoon.’

      ‘How long will you be gone?’

      He drained his coffee. ‘If you agree, Annabelle will spend the night with my parents on Monday. I’ll pick her up on Tuesday and we’ll return on Wednesday.’

      ‘Two nights...’ She would miss her child but the time away would help her put her feelings regarding Cesare into some sort of perspective.

      Being constantly around him, waging a seemingly hopeless battle with her feelings had become draining. In a way, this was a blessing in disguise.

      The time would also be useful for a drive down to Amalfi to scout out some more locations for the wedding catalogue.

      She tried not to be distracted by the play of his hair-dusted bicep as he reached over and plucked a peach from the bowl. ‘I suppose two nights isn’t so bad. Is Lucia coming with you?’

      ‘No, she isn’t.’

      She frowned. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea—’

      ‘You think I’m incapable of taking care of our child?’ A hard glint entered his eyes, chilling the skin on her arms.

      ‘It’s not that,’ she answered truthfully.

      ‘Then what is it?’

      ‘Annabelle can be a handful, especially when she gets tired. I just think it’s a good idea to have some help, that’s all.’

      ‘Which is why you’re coming with us,’ he said.

      ‘Me? But I wasn’t—I didn’t...’

      ‘Wasn’t that the agreement? We spend every day with our daughter?’

      ‘Yes, but what about my work? I have a meeting with Reynaldo and Tina on Monday morning.’

      He frowned. ‘What time will you be done?’

      ‘About eleven.’

      ‘Bene, we’ll leave at midday.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘If you want a swim with Papà after breakfast, then go easy on those pancakes, piccola mia.’

      ‘Will you swim too, Mummy?’ her daughter asked.

      ‘Yes, she will,’ Cesare answered for her. ‘Mummy is not in any danger because she’s barely eaten a thing.’ His disapproving gaze moved from her barely touched plate to her face, and challenged her to refute his words.

      The discreet but extremely rude finger gesture she used in his direction produced an amused smile. Then his gaze released hers to travel at leisure down her face to the frantic pulse beating at her throat.

      Unable to stand the sensual heat any more, she set back her chair and stood.

      ‘I’ll just go and change.’ As she walked away, a saucy thought entered her head. Since she’d got here, Cesare had teased and taunted her sexually.

      Well, two could play that game.

      In her room, she quickly selected her skimpiest bikini, one bought for her trip to Bali when she’d been under the delusion that she could save her marriage.

      She tried it on now and nearly lost her nerve. The bright green Lycra material—where there was any—clung to her skin in a blatantly provocative caress.

      Flushing, she pulled a matching green shirt over it, grabbed a bottle of sun protection and hurried out of the room before she changed her mind. With each step towards the pool, she reiterated to herself the purpose of her actions.

      She’d never been a pushover. On the contrary, she’d learned very early on in life to push back when pushed. Cesare had pushed her buttons enough.

      The moment she shrugged off her shirt and caught his gaze, her heartbeat screamed out of control. Where sexual heat had burned lazily in his eyes before, this time they blazed with pure volcanic heat. The sheer power of it made her stumble to a halt. Heat rushed up and engulfed her whole body. Uncertain, she stood at the edge of the pool.

      Cesare’s face set into hardened lines. His nostrils were pinched and his jaw was clamped tight as if holding himself by a bare thread. He couldn’t have made it plainer that she’d succeeded in pushing him to his very limit.

      She wanted to run as fast as she could back to her room, tear the bikini off and burn the damned thing. But she couldn’t move. Concrete-heavy limbs remained riveted to the tiles, her whole body drenched in a need so strong it took her breath away.

      His gaze slid downward, his expression growing tighter as it travelled over her and back to her face.

      Finally, he turned to his daughter, made sure her armbands were secured, then he swam to the side of the pool.

      In one vault he was beside her. ‘What the hell are you trying to do to me?’

      She fought to hold a smile in place. ‘Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?’

      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?’