Marc stepped back and held the door open for her. ‘I will bring you a nightcap once you are in bed. What about a little brandy in milk?’
She shook her head, the movement making her fragrant hair swing around her shoulders, making him ache to thread his fingers through the soft, silky strands. ‘No, thank you,’ she said a little stiffly as she moved past him.
‘Ava?’
She froze mid-step; her slim back rigid, reminding him of a small ironing board standing upright. ‘Please, Marc…not now. I just couldn’t bear it.’
Marc drew in a breath that snagged at his throat as she continued on her way down the wide hall, disappearing into a suite several doors down.
Tears or a tactic? he asked himself again. But he was no closer to the truth. If anything, he thought he was even further away.
The following morning when Ava finally made it downstairs, Celeste handed her the phone. ‘It is your sister, Serena,’ she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand.
Ava took the phone and wandered out to the terrace rather than have the housekeeper or indeed Marc overhear her conversation. ‘Serena?’ she said once she was out of earshot. ‘How are you, sweetie?’
‘Is it true?’ Serena asked without preamble, her voice breathless with shock. ‘Are you really living with Marc Castellano as his mistress?’
Ava took a deep but uneven breath. ‘Serena…I was going to call you to explain, but it got late last night and I—’
‘What’s going on?’ Serena asked. ‘For all this time you’ve never mentioned his name. I thought you hated him. You told me it was over between you, that you would never go back to him.’
Ava knew she had to tread carefully with how much she told her sister. In accepting Douglas Cole’s marriage proposal, she had pretended her feelings for Marc had been obliterated by his refusal to commit. She hadn’t wanted Serena to feel any more guilt than she had at the time. To reveal Marc’s motives for their reconciliation would cause unnecessary hurt to Serena when she already had enough pain to deal with over the loss of her baby. ‘Serena, it’s sort of complicated…’ she began.
‘Have you slept with him?’
Ava rolled her lips together, wincing as she felt the slight swelling of her lower lip. ‘No,’ she said on an expelled breath. ‘Not yet.’
‘So what’s going on?’ Serena asked again, her voice going an octave higher. ‘It’s in every paper over here. They all say the same thing—that you’ve reconciled with Marc. It even says here…’ there was a rustling of pages being turned ‘…that he now owns Douglas’s villa and his company. Everything! He owns the lot.’
‘Yes, that’s true,’ Ava said, swallowing tightly.
‘How long have you known about this?’
‘Er—not long.’
‘Ava?’ Serena’s voice cracked. ‘This is all my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t been so stupid to make those mistakes in the books none of this would have happened. I feel so guilty. Don’t think I don’t realise you gave up five years of your life for me. I know you’ve always said you enjoyed being married to Douglas because of the money and the lifestyle but I never really believed it. You’re not that type of person in spite of what the Press likes to think. Oh, God, I can’t bear to think of Marc trying to get back at you for—’
‘No,’ Ava said firmly. ‘None of this has anything to do with you and the past.’ She mentally crossed her fingers at her little white lie and added, ‘Marc still has—er—feelings for me. He’s waited this long for the chance to come back into my life. We are both keen to have another go at our relationship. We were young and headstrong before. We’ve both moved on.’
‘So…what about your feelings about him?’ Serena asked after a short silence. ‘Are you saying you were in love with him all this time?’
Ava pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘It’s hard to know what I feel right now,’ she said, carefully sidestepping her sister’s question. ‘I just want to enjoy getting to know him again. We’re taking things slowly this time.’
‘Has he changed his mind about marriage and kids?’ Serena asked.
Ava felt a pain deep inside her heart, like a toothpick being twisted. ‘It’s a bit of a touchy subject.’
‘Ava, don’t waste any more years of your life, please, I beg you,’ Serena said, starting to cry. ‘You deserve a happy life. You’ve already sacrificed so much…’
There was the sound of someone in the background and then suddenly a male voice came on the line. ‘Ava? Is that you?’ Richard Holt said in his crisp Cambridge-educated voice.
‘Yes,’ Ava answered. ‘Richard, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset Serena but—’
‘It’s all right,’ Richard sighed long-sufferingly. ‘She’s been through a bad patch just lately, poor little pet. The doctors say it’s the hormones, you know…after…well…’ he cleared his throat ‘…you know.’
Ava felt her own throat thicken with emotion for what they were both going through. ‘I understand, Richard,’ she said softly. ‘I am so sorry for not breaking the news of my reunion with Marc to you both personally. It’s just everything’s been happening so quickly and I…well…I’m sorry. You and Serena should have been the first to know, not read about it in the Press as you did.’
‘We are thrilled for you, really we are,’ Richard said with genuine warmth. ‘Don’t pay any attention to Serena just now. She’s not herself. Once she realises you are happy she’ll be absolutely tickled pink for you.’
There was a tiny pause before he added, ‘Erm…you are happy, aren’t you, my dear?’
Ava forced her voice to sound light and carefree. ‘I am happy, Richard. Marc and I are like different people now. It’s a fresh start.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘Absolutely brilliant news. Bring him over to see us as soon as you can so we can toast your future.’
Ava grimaced. ‘I’ll do that.’
Ava hung up the phone a short time later just as Marc stepped out onto the terrace. She tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear with her free hand, feeling colour creep like a slow-moving tide along her cheeks.
‘Your sister?’ he asked, glancing at the phone in her other hand.
She nodded and, looking at the phone, put it down on the outdoor table, carefully avoiding his gaze. ‘And my brother-in-law.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘They read about—er—us…in the papers.’
His steps sounded on the tiles of the terrace as he came to stand in a short distance in front of her. ‘I should have suggested you call them last night.’
Ava glanced up at him. ‘I should have thought of it myself.’
He came a step closer and gently lifted her chin with two of his fingers as his dark, fathomless gaze studied her mouth for an endless moment. ‘Your lip is swollen,’ he said with a gruffness she had not heard him use before. ‘I should have brought you some ice to put on it last night.’
Ava stepped out of his hold, frightened she would betray herself by leaning into his solid warmth. ‘I’m perfectly fine,’ she said, injecting a tart quality into her voice. ‘I need coffee, not first aid.’
‘I have already instructed Celeste to bring it out to us here,’ he said. ‘You look like you could do with some sunshine. You look rather pale this morning.’
‘I didn’t sleep well,’ Ava confessed, glancing up at him again as he pulled a chair out for her at the outdoor table setting.
‘Not used to sleeping alone?’ he asked with a wry lift of one dark brow.
She gave him a look that would have sliced through frozen butter. ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you, Marc?’
He pulled out a chair for himself and sat down, waiting until Celeste had brought out a tray with coffee and fresh croissants and preserve, and left them alone again, before he spoke. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you never shared a bed with Cole the whole time you were married?’
Ava stared at him for a moment, dumbstruck at the out-of-the-blue question. ‘How…?’ She swallowed and began again, ‘How
do you know?’
He nodded in the direction Celeste had gone. ‘The housekeeper let it slip.’
Ava shifted in her chair. ‘I’m surprised you believed her,’ she said, throwing him a stinging look. ‘If I had told you, I am sure you would have laughed in my face.’
A camera shutter-quick movement came and went in his gaze as it held hers. ‘I guess I should take some comfort in the knowledge you married him solely for the money,’ he said. ‘After all, you never complained about our sex life while we were together.’
Ava felt her body quiver in remembrance and quickly shifted her gaze from the probe of his. Her shoulders went back until they met the sun-warmed wrought-iron lace of her chair, twin pools of heat burning in her cheeks.
She watched as he poured them both a coffee, his movements so steady and sure, while her body was trembling both inside and out. She swallowed a tight knot of tension in her throat, wondering how to fill the chasm of silence that had opened up between them.
Marc handed her a cup of steaming coffee, his eyes meeting hers across the small distance of the round table. ‘I could have given you as much, if not more than Cole, so why did you do it?’
She took the cup from him, the slight rattle of it in its saucer betraying her outwardly cool composure. ‘You refused to give me what I wanted,’ she said. ‘If I had stayed with you I would never have been a bride. Douglas at least allowed me to experience that.’
Marc felt the familiar punch of jealousy hit him in the midsection when he thought of her as a bride. Even knowing the marriage had not been consummated barely lessened its impact. For all he knew she could have taken any number of lovers during her marriage, after all, Cole had been very ill before he died. Perhaps his health had been impaired much longer than the public had been aware of. But when all was said and done, Ava had still ditched Marc to enter into a paper marriage to his enemy to bring about his ruin. What other reason could she have had?
He rested his right ankle over his left thigh, leaning back in his chair as he idly stirred his coffee with a silver-crested spoon that had been in his family for hundreds of years. It occurred to him then that once he died there would be no Castellano heir to inherit that and every other heirloom his father’s family had collected over the years. Marc had fought so hard to keep every last object in his possession when his business had almost gone under. If he didn’t have an heir when he died everything would have to go to another branch of the family, distant cousins Marc barely knew. He had never really thought about it until now. How it would feel to have no one to pass on the family name. The proud heritage he had built up almost from scratch when his father had toppled emotionally would be lost forever.
He pinned her gaze with his. ‘Why is marriage such a big thing for you? It’s little more than a piece of paper, or at least apparently it was in your case with Cole.’
‘There were good reasons why that was the case,’ she said, lowering her eyes. ‘Douglas was unable to…to—’
‘To get it up?’ he offered.
Her eyes flicked back to his, irritation flashing in their grey-blue depths. ‘Sex is not the only basis for a happy marriage,’ she said. ‘Illness or an accident can strike anyone at any time. That’s the whole point of promising to love for better or worse, sickness and health and so on.’
‘Were your parents happily married before your mother died?’ he asked.
She averted her gaze once more. ‘No, but that doesn’t mean good marriages don’t exist. Even people who are completely different can make a wonderful go of it. My sister and her husband are a perfect example. Serena is incredibly shy and Richard is at ease with people and very outgoing. They make a lovely couple in every way.’
Marc felt a frown pull at his brow as he sat watching her. The sunlight on her blonde hair highlighted its naturalness, the soft waves framing her face making her look like an angel. He had missed the sound of her voice. He hadn’t realised until now how much. She had a softly spoken voice, her fluency with foreign languages giving her a cultured accent that was mesmerising to listen to. She could have read her way through the phone book and he would have gladly sat and listened for hours.
He gave himself a mental shake and took a deep sip of his coffee. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘But then opposites attract. Like us, sì?’
‘You seem more intent on attacking me than attracting me,’ she put in with a testy look.
Marc put his cup back down, his mouth tightening at her jibe. The truth was he was deeply ashamed of how he had inadvertently hurt her by kissing her so savagely.
‘I don’t suppose people will take our reconciliation very seriously if we are forever sniping at each other,’ he said, offering her a croissant.
She pushed the basket back towards him. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I just want coffee for now.’
‘You haven’t even touched it.’
‘I’m waiting for it to cool down.’
‘You should eat something,’ he said. ‘You look thinner than when we were together five years ago.’
She gave him a flinty look. ‘Yes, well, after the little strip show you insisted on last night you could probably calculate my weight to the nearest gram.’
Marc suppressed a smile at the memory which had kept him awake for hours last night. He had enjoyed every second of seeing her in just her bra and knickers and he couldn’t wait to see her in even less. ‘I know it is supposedly fashionable to be bone-thin, but personally I like a little flesh to hold on to,’ he said.
She rolled her eyes in disdain. ‘If you think I am going to stuff myself full of sugar and fat just to please you then you will be waiting a long time.’
‘Are you on the Pill?’
Ava blinked at him, hastily trying to reorient herself before she answered. ‘Yes, not that it’s any of your business.’
He gave her a smouldering look. ‘Soon will be, cara. We have a deal, remember?’
Ava crossed her legs and her arms, but even so her body still felt as if it had been set alight with longing. Just thinking about him making love to her made her skin tingle from the base of her spine to the roots of her hair. ‘You can hardly force yourself on me,’ she pointed out.
He gave her a knowing smile. ‘I don’t think there will be any chance of that being an issue for two reasons. The first is I do not believe in forcing a woman to have sex with me, and the second is you are just as attracted to me as I am to you. That is one thing that hasn’t changed in the five years we have been apart.’
Ava shifted agitatedly in her chair. ‘You’re imagining it. I hate you. I detest every minute I have to spend with you.’
His mouth curved upwards into a lazy smile. ‘Then perhaps the sooner we make love and get it over with the better, sì? Who knows? Perhaps I will be bored by you within a week or two.’
‘I wish,’ she muttered.
He reached across the table and took her wrist in his hand, his fingers overlapping her fragile form, reminding her yet again of how outclassed she was in trying to win a single battle with him, let alone the war. His eyes burned as they held hers, searing her to the core. ‘I think it’s time you stopped playing games with me, Ava,’ he said. ‘I know what you are doing. All those little secrets and lies are for a purpose, are they not?’
Ava gritted her teeth as she pulled out of his hold. ‘I am not playing any games. If anyone is guilty of that it is you, blackmailing me back into your life the way you have.’
He gave her a contemptuous look as he rose from the table. ‘You can leave any minute you wish, Ava,’ he said. ‘But if you go you will not be taking a penny or a single possession with you. All you will be taking is a folder full of bills your husband left unpaid. Do I make myself clear?’
She sat fuming at him, stubbornly refusing to answer, hating him with such intensity she was practically shaking all over with it.
‘I said, do I make myself clear?’ he barked at her.
Ava rose to her feet in one stiff,
angry movement which toppled her chair backwards onto the terrace tiles. ‘Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!’ she said, glaring at him.
Celeste came running at the sound of the chair crashing to the ground, but Marc sent her away with a look that would have stopped an express train in its tracks.
He turned back to Ava once the housemaid had scuttled away, his eyes still flashing their ire. ‘This is not how I wish our relationship to be conducted,’ he said, lowering his voice with an obvious effort. ‘You will learn respect if I have to spend every hour of every day teaching you.’
Ava curled her top lip at him, even though she knew it was likely to stoke his anger towards her. ‘How is our relationship going to be conducted, then?’ she asked. ‘With you insulting me at every turn, calling me every vilifying name you can think of as if you’ve never put a foot wrong in your life. Your hypocrisy is nauseating. You’ve made plenty of mistakes, Marc. The difference is you won’t admit to them.’
When she moved past him to leave the terrace Marc let her go without a word. He picked up the lukewarm coffee and took a sip, frowning heavily as he looked at the sparkling blue water of the ocean below.
CHAPTER FOUR
AVA spent the rest of the morning in her room, filling in time by sorting through her wardrobe, a task that she could just as easily have assigned to Celeste, but she wanted the mental space of a menial activity to calm her restive mind.
When she came downstairs for a light lunch Celeste informed her Marc had left the villa and would not be back until dinner. Ava felt her tense shoulders and the tight band around her head instantly relax.
The heat of the day drove Ava out to the infinity pool Douglas had installed in the terraced gardens at the back of the villa. It was one of Ava’s favourite spots, for the screen of the shrubs gave her a sense of privacy as she swam lap after lap. The sun was warm, but the water spilling over her with each stroke she took felt like cool silk, the sensual glide of her body through the water making her feel weightless and free.
Castellano's Mistress of Revenge Page 6
