Summer Loving. Cathy Williams
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His gaze dropped to her chest, his bold stare causing her breasts to grow heavier. ‘I’ll get the wine myself if you can’t stand to be here.’
The clear challenge made her bolder. The red in her hair and nature made backing down from a challenge an impossibility—or so she’d often been told.
She wouldn’t slink away like a scared puppy just because Cesare was in a testy mood. Setting her drink on the vast centre island, she pulled out a stool and perched on it.
Cesare grabbed a glass, brought over the plate of stromboli and placed it down between them. She poured his wine as he took a bite of bread. After taking a sip, he sat back and looked at her.
‘Sleep was eluding you also?’
‘I think sleep would elude any woman whose husband announces he never loved her and regrets marrying her.’
He tensed immediately. ‘Ava—’
‘It’s okay. No, actually, it’s not okay but I’m not about to launch into another bout of hysteria if that’s what you’re worried about.’
He exhaled. ‘You’re the last woman I’d accuse of hysterics. But grazie.’
The piece of pastry she popped into her mouth to delay her response tasted like sawdust with a hint of garlic. Taking another sip of wine helped her force it down, but realising another bite wasn’t a good idea because she risked choking, she put it down.
‘Don’t thank me just yet. I’m still reeling from the revelations about Roberto and about us. Just because I’m calm now doesn’t mean we don’t have a situation that doesn’t need to be resolved.’ Clearing her throat, she forced the words out. ‘I think it’s time we stop playing ostrich and take what’s happening between us to the next...permanent level.’
The violent scrape of the stool as he pushed it back on the tiled floor raked across nerves already raw with her ravaged emotions.
Cesare planted both hands on the smooth surface and glared fire and brimstone at her. ‘Di Goias do not divorce.’
Her mouth fell open. ‘Excuse me? Shouldn’t you have thought of that before you decided to enter a marriage you didn’t want?’
‘You were carrying my child. I had no choice.’ His lips barely moved with his words.
She sucked in a stunned breath. ‘Wow, you do know how to keep piling on the charm, don’t you? I’m sure you would’ve made some damsel a perfect husband in the Dark Ages. Unfortunately for you, we’re in the twenty-first century, so unless I signed on to this Di Goias Do Not Divorce without knowing about it, I don’t see that you have a choice.’
His glare intensified. ‘You knew we were only marrying because of Annabelle.’
‘Wrong! I thought you were marrying me because you loved me, that you wanted to make a family with me.’
He stepped back abruptly as if she’d physically assaulted him. ‘Again with the family!’
‘What is so wrong with that?’ she yelled, suddenly not feeling so calm any more.
‘I never confessed such a feeling.’
‘I know. Stupid me, mistranslating all those heated Italian endearments you whispered to me in bed as words of devotion and undying love.’
A dull flush washed across his taut cheekbones. ‘I never lied to you about my feelings in or out of bed.’
‘But you made me think you cared about me, that you wanted what I wanted. It was a lie by omission.’
As if frustrated with her logic, he whirled away from the island and started pacing in tight circles. She followed his prowl, helpless to avert her gaze because Cesare had always been a source of intense, almost worshipful fascination for her.
He finally returned and gripped the edge of the countertop. ‘I never lied to you, Ava. And I did care.’ His gaze speared hers, almost imploring, as if he willed her to believe him.
She swallowed. ‘Obviously not enough. Ultimately, it was all about the sex for you. Shame I had to go and get pregnant, wasn’t it?’ The words were forced through a painful knot in her throat. ‘Whatever you say next, even if you think and feel it, please do not tell me you regret having our daughter.’
Pain flitted over his face. In the next instant it was gone. ‘I have not for a single moment regretted Annabelle. But you have to admit, things got very complicated very quickly with us.’
She released the breath locked in her throat and quickly swallowed down the threatening tears.
Enough.
Before she got sucked down into a quagmire of her own making, she stood. ‘Well, it’s time to de-complicate things. There’s nothing to stop me seeking a divorce so whether you want one or not doesn’t really matter. You said you shouldn’t have married me, that I was too fixated on wanting a family with you to see that you didn’t want one. I hate you for misleading me if that’s the way you really felt. You still want me—do us both a favour and don’t deny it, please. You want me but you don’t want to be married to me, and yet you still wear your wedding ring.
‘Frankly, I don’t have a clue what’s going on, but I’m done turning myself into a basket case trying to figure it out. So I don’t really give a damn if it’s the di Goia thing or not, Cesare. I want a divorce.’
CESARE DESCENDED THE stairs, his mood no less foul than when he’d gone upstairs three hours earlier under the pretext of going to bed.
Sleep had been non-existent. No surprise there. Irrational anger and frustration pulsed in equal measures through him. For the most part he was extremely disturbed by his reaction to Ava’s announcement in the kitchen. Which in turn confused him. He was not a man who enjoyed being confused!
And yet, what had he expected when he announced they shouldn’t have married? That she would dissolve in helpless tears and beg him to reconsider?
He gave a grim smile. Ava was not like that. No, his redheaded tigress reacted with claws, not tears. But there’d been no signs of claws last night...only a calm resignation after her hysterics-free announcement.
The disturbing hollowness inside him expanded.
Even if some masochistic part of him had wanted her to fight, what good would it have done? He wasn’t wired to be a family man. He never would be.
Di Goias do not divorce. He snorted under his breath. For a man who prided himself on being ruthlessly straight in his business dealings, he was sure as hell making a pathetic ass of himself in his private life.
Ava only needed a competent Internet search engine to verify his hot-headed statement as a pack of lies. Granted, divorce in his family was rare, but wasn’t his Uncle Gianni neck-deep in a particularly messy one with his third wife right this very minute?
Cesare slammed the door to his study and paced the room. A dark part of him registered his anger was irrational. As irrational as the fear he’d felt when he’d had to leave Ava and Annabelle three weeks ago to rush to Roberto’s side. Then, as now, he’d felt as if his life was ripping apart with the same deadly intent as the earthquake had.
He detested the hellish, out-of-control feeling.
The past weeks’ events—the earthquake, Roberto’s death, the soul-shaking despair of not being able to control anything in life had only cemented his belief that he shouldn’t have married Ava.
So why should he be angry now that she wanted out?
‘Basta!’ he swore under his breath. Glancing at his watch, he stalked to the phone. It was still early on a Saturday morning, and it was about time his lawyers earned their fat monthly retainer.
‘Ciao!’