‘Where are we going?’ Ava prompted suddenly.
‘London … shopping,’ Vito proffered casually, wondering why she wasn’t putting up a fight about the prospect.
‘In a helicopter?’ Her head ached with the force of the self-discipline she was utilising to hold her flailing emotions in check.
‘It’ll give us more time.’
‘I’m not really in the mood.’
‘It’s your birthday tomorrow. This is my treat,’ Vito p
ronounced.
Presumably he wanted to buy her a present and if he had organised the trip for her benefit she didn’t want to be difficult about it.
‘Is there anything wrong? You’re very quiet,’ Vito commented, leaning down to do up her seat belt for her when she ignored the necessity.
‘Thanks.’ Ava forced a smile, striving to behave normally. ‘No, there’s nothing wrong.’
The helicopter rose noisily into the air. Nothing short of physical force would have dragged the truth from Ava about what she had learned from Thomas Fitzgerald earlier that day, she conceded painfully. Apart from the embarrassing reality that the older man still worked for Vito, such a private and wounding revelation had no place in a casual relationship. That was not what she and Vito were about and she would adapt to the sordid discovery that she would never know who her birth father was without anyone’s help. But a shopping trip …? Strange, she reflected wearily. She had always assumed that most men didn’t like shopping, but at least the pastime would provide a useful distraction from the burden of her unhappy thoughts.
Vito had requested that a personal shopper meet them at Harrods. He cast a questioning glance at Ava as the woman tried to engage her in a discussion about her likes and dislikes but Ava’s responses were few and her lack of interest patent. Determined to make the most of the occasion, Vito got involved, chose his favourite colours, nodded and shook his handsome head when outfits were displayed on hangers and freed from the threat of Ava’s interference, announced that everything was required. With all the animation of a shop window dummy, Ava tried on several garments. That achieved, the outfits began to pile up because Vito shopped as fast as he worked. The personal shopper called in two co-workers to help while Ava continued to hover in an apparent world of her own. Vito stifled his exasperation and decided that unlike most women she had little interest in what she wore. Handbags and shoes joined the pile, along with a beautiful green velvet designer gown, which Vito knew at a glance would be perfect for the party. In the lingerie department, determined to see the back of the gingham pyjamas, he looked to Ava to finally take part in the proceedings because he could not credit that she would let him do the choosing, and he was stunned to see that silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. She seemed totally unaware that she was crying in a public place …
CHAPTER EIGHT
AT Vito’s request they were shown into a room with seating and the concerned team assisting them promised to rustle up a cup of tea.
His hands on her slim shoulders, Vito settled Ava down into an armchair as if she were a sleepwalker. He lifted a handful of tissues from a box on the table and pushed them down into her tautly clenched hands. ‘Per l’amor di Dio … what has happened?’ he demanded, gazing down at her.
Ava pressed a tissue to her face to dab it dry and wiped her eyes. ‘Nothing,’ she said gruffly. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘No, I’m sorry I dragged you out when there’s obviously something very wrong. I should have seen that you were acting strangely,’ he ground out rawly. ‘This was supposed to be a treat, not an endurance test that distresses you, bella mia—’
Ava stared woodenly down at her knotted hands. ‘I’m really sorry … how embarrassing for you to have me behaving like that in public. I’m surprised you didn’t walk off and leave me.’
Vito crouched down in front of her and tilted up her chin so that he could better see her reddened blue eyes and the pink tip of her nose. ‘Am I that much of a bastard? I will admit to a split second of very masculine panic but that’s all.’
Ava encountered beautiful dark golden eyes fever bright with frustration. He hated being out of the loop: she knew that much about him. ‘It’s not something I can talk about, I’m afraid. I’m all right now, though. The pressure inside me just built up too high and I didn’t even realise I was crying.’
‘Are you pregnant?’ Vito demanded with staggering abruptness.
Ara was taken aback by the question, an involuntary laugh was dredged from her tight throat. Evidently that was his biggest fear. ‘Of course I’m not and as we’ve only been together a week, how could I possibly be pregnant?’ she whispered just as a knock sounded on the door. ‘Or even know that I was?’
‘It happens,’ Vito said darkly, thinking of Olly, whom his father had sworn had been conceived after a single night. He vaulted upright to open the door and accept the cup of tea that had arrived, settling it down on the table by her side.
‘We’ve been too careful. That’s not the problem,’ Ava told him dully as she sipped gratefully at the refreshing brew.
‘But what is the problem?’ Vito growled.
‘It’s nothing to do with you or our relationship and I’m getting over it already,’ Ava insisted staunchly, wiping her eyes with determination and blowing her nose, still wincing at the embarrassment of having lost control to such an extent in front of him. ‘You see? I’m absolutely fine.’
‘You’re anything but fine,’ Vito contradicted without hesitation. ‘You’re not yourself at all. Let’s finish up and get out of here, but don’t think you’ve heard the last of this. I need to know what’s wrong.’
Her face tightened. ‘We don’t have that kind of relationship.’
‘What kind of a relationship do we have?’ Vito shot back as she set down the tea and stood up, composed again.
‘Fun, casual,’ she declared.