Summer Loving. Cathy Williams

we have that talk, carissima.’ His breath fanned her sensitive lobe.

      A shiver went through her. She’d started to turn when a loud wolf-whistle shattered the air from a trio of men who’d just emerged from the club.

      The sight of her—arms raised, bare feet and naked, seductively curved back—garnered very male interest that made Cesare growl low in his throat.

      With jerky movements, he shrugged out of his jacket. ‘Basta! I don’t care if it offends your female sensibilities. Put this on, now,’ he hissed. Pulling her arms down, he draped the jacket around her shoulders.

      His limo, which had pulled up while she’d been lost in thought, stood with Paolo holding the door open. Cesare ushered her into the back seat, climbed in beside her and yanked the door shut.

      Rough fists clenched and unclenched on his thigh, but it wasn’t until the car was moving that he spoke.

      ‘It seems you’ve turned into quite the exhibitionist, cara mia.’ The cold endearment emerged more as a reproach than an affectionate term.

      She flinched and tried to move away. Immediately he trapped her arms, stopping her sideways escape.

      ‘A lot of things have happened while you’ve been busy pretending I don’t exist, Cesare.’

      His lips firmed. ‘I can see that. And I’m wondering how all this impacts on my daughter.’

      She turned sharply. ‘Stop right there! You’d better erase that whiff of you’re a bad mother I hear in your voice, PDQ! And stop referring to her as your daughter. Up until very recently, your part in all this has merely been the biology. You chose to live away from us! You lost the right to be a father when you withdrew so far physically and emotionally from our daughter, she may as well have been dead to you!’

      In the darkened interior of the car, his head went back as if she’d struck him. What little colour had remained left his face. She couldn’t have struck a deeper blow if she’d shot a bullet into his heart.

      Immediately contrite, she reached out and grabbed his hand. It remained cold and unmoving beneath hers.

      ‘Cesare, I didn’t mean that—’

      ‘I deserved that. But I had good reason. Or I thought I had for a long time, well before the earthquake. What happened with Roberto and Valentina...I didn’t think I deserved a child when Roberto had lost his.’

      ‘Do you really think Roberto begrudged you a family?’

      ‘I didn’t think—I knew. He told me many times that I didn’t deserve a family—’ a tight edge of pain roughened his voice ‘—that I deserved to be alone the way he was.’

      Her insides fractured at his torment. But she couldn’t stop her own pain from welling up alongside it. She sank deeper into the warm jacket that had so recently draped Cesare’s body. Curiously, she drew strength from it to fight him. ‘I’m sorry he said that to you. But did you really think Annabelle deserved to suffer because your brother was fighting his own monsters?’

      ‘It was my duty to protect him—’

      ‘You also had a duty to your wife and child. I know you married me because I was pregnant,’ she forced out painfully, ‘but you shouldn’t have left me alone to bring up our daughter alone.’

      A small, taut silence reigned before, ‘You were never alone,’ he said, almost under his breath. ‘You had nannies, household staff and a security detail.’

      Rage smashed her burgeoning hope to smithereens. ‘Security detail? Oh, that’s all right then. You know I’ve never been part of a family. I told you how my father and brothers treated me. God, Cesare, I had no idea what I was doing when I had a baby. I expected you to stick around and help me, be with me. Instead you jumped on your jet at the first opportunity, and chased deal after deal. I didn’t marry your household staff or your security detail. I married you! You should have been there, not them!’

      His hand tightened painfully on hers and his head dipped in solemn acknowledgement. ‘I should’ve been. No matter my inadequacies as a husband, I should’ve tried harder as a father. Trust me, Ava, I know my failings where my daughter is concerned.’ He spread his fingers in a purely Latin gesture. ‘It’s why I’m here now, trying to right that wrong. I intend not to lose sight of the fact that she is the most important thing in all of this.’

      Hearing the words—so resolute and promising where their daughter was concerned, and so excluding where she was—made Ava’s heart catch so painfully she couldn’t speak for several seconds. But she didn’t need to. Cesare was in the mood to unburden himself. ‘Dio mio, Ava, you must remember we barely knew each other before you got pregnant and yet you so quickly put me front and centre of everything you wanted in a family. I couldn’t think straight. You say you had no idea what you were doing but to me you seemed the epitome of calm and composure. When, after a while, you didn’t seem to need me, I left.’

      Ava reeled, fiercely glad she wasn’t standing up, for surely she’d have lost the power of her legs. Her spine turned liquid and she collapsed into the soft leather seat. ‘I had no idea...’

      The rest of her words dried up as he shook his head, raised a silencing hand before clenching it into a fist mid-air. The action, so wrought with despair, made her inhale sharply. She glanced at his profile.

      The corresponding look of wrenching pain on his face made her reach out.

      ‘Cesare—’

      * * *

      Cesare couldn’t stop the hiss of pain that slipped through his lips. ‘Enough! Do not say another word.’

      Regret, self-condemnation, jealousy and anger all coalesced into a seething ball of emotion in his chest. Emotions he’d been fighting what felt like forever sank their steely talons deeper into him. He was exhausted... Dio, was he exhausted.

      ‘I’m tired of trading verbal blows with you, Ava.’

      He needed a distraction, and he reached for the only thing that had ever been potent enough to melt his control.

      Ava’s gasp echoed in the car as he yanked her against him.

      Soft contours moulded against his hardness, her eyes widening as she encountered a particularly stiff part of him. His gaze dropped to her lips, his focus hazing at the thought of possessing her, of washing away the tide of blackness that threatened to consume him in the most effective way he knew how.

      He slanted his lips over hers, and nearly groaned. Heady, seductive, infinitely dangerous to him. But, right at that moment, he didn’t care about the danger. He wanted a reprieve from the demons clamouring for his soul.

      With a feathery sigh, she melted into him and he exhaled in satisfaction. He’d expected bristle and bite, for her to fight the way she always did. Instead she sank further into him.

      His tongue, eager to taste, captured hers. Another gasp echoed in the silent interior as his fingers explored what he’d been itching to explore for far too long.

      No woman had ever tasted like Ava. Innocent and bewitching, bold and insecure—one minute she kissed him as if she wanted to devour him, the next she whimpered with a touch of timidity.

      The heady mix made him harder, torturing him with the need to pull up the short hemline that had been taunting him all evening and just take, take, take.

      But, as much as he wanted to rip her panties off, spread her open on the wide limo seat and pleasure them both until one of them passed out, he couldn’t.

      There’s nothing wrong with kissing, his insistent body clamoured. He deepened the kiss, letting his mouth perform the task his body couldn’t be allowed to. Ava’s mouth opened wider, her tongue growing bolder in its own exploration.

      A dark thought seeped into his mind. Fighting the blackness, he wrenched his lips from hers.

      ‘You never answered me when