He n

odded. “But then I realised how silly I’d be to miss yet another special day in Milly’s life.” He hadn’t intended the statement as a criticism, but he heard it as she did and he winced inwardly. “Mind if I join you? I brought mince pies.”

“You did?” Had he remembered how much Ava loved them? Or was it just a coincidence? She turned away from him, pretending to examine the tree, and might have burst out laughing if it weren’t for the all-consuming tension that was holding her spine straight. It was severely lopsided and low-balanced, courtesy of Milly’s ministrations.

“You always loved them, I thought,” he said, answering her question. He had remembered.

It made her feel strangely vulnerable.

“Yes,” she agreed, the word cold in the face of how she was feeling. She angled a smile in his general direction. “Why don’t you take over from me and hand the decorations out. I’ve been neglecting the top of the tree.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he murmured with amusement. “Okay, garotinha, down you get. You have more work to do on this tree.”

“Dah,” she said, pointed at the tree, and he nodded gravely.

“These decorations?” He pointed to the boxes on the nearby table.

“Uh huh.”

He lifted two out and was about to hand one to Milly when Ava squawked. “I’ll take both of those thanks. I’m sticking to plastic and wood for Milly.”

He looked at the two he’d chosen and understood immediately. They were very fine glass, and looked to be quite antique.

“They were some of my mother’s childhood ornaments,” she explained, as he handed them to her. She climbed two rungs on the small ladder and pinned them to a couple of branches, then stepped down again.

“They are quite lovely,” he agreed, selecting a far less delicate decoration from the boxes and passing it to Milly. She dropped it instantly, and then in her haste to pick it up, stood on it clumsily.

Ava and Cristiano’s gazes locked, and a shared expression of amusement passed between them.

“Wooden ones for Milly. Loud and clear,” he said with a nod, lifting a pale green glass bauble out of the box and bringing it to Ava. She cupped it in her hand, feeling its familiar smoothness.

“These ones were always my favourite,” she held it up high, so that it caught the light from the windows. “Look at the way they get a little kaleidoscope in their centre.”

He didn’t look at the decoration. He couldn’t take his eyes off Ava’s face. Her expression was one of child-like joy as she studied the rainbow colours.

She was a child, he thought with a pang of conscience. Only twenty four years old, and she’d spent the last three years navigating pregnancy and parenthood on her own. It must have been a heavy burden to carry, and yet she’d obviously done it with aplomb, if Milly was anything to go by.

She flicked her gaze to him and then jerked her eyes away self-consciously. Only it was too fast, and she was holding the decoration aloft rather than keeping one hand on the ladder. She lost her footing and fell to the floor, unable to stabilise herself. He caught her quickly, but not before her foot had twisted awkwardly.

“Goodness, I’m as bad as Milly,” she croaked, desperate to shake out of his touch. Up so close, held in his arms, she could feel his heart and she could smell his musky fragrance. Her body was on fire. “I’m fine.” She stood up, but immediately crumpled again. This time, though, she gave him a wide berth and reached for the ladder for support.

He understood. His own hands felt like they’d been lit with a fuse after wrapping around her neat waist.

“You’re not fine,” he denied, seeing the way she was holding one foot off the ground.

“Mummy owe,” Milly said, moving towards Ava and putting a hand on hers.

“I’m okay, darling. Just a bit,” her eyes lifted to Cristiano’s, “…embarrassed.”

“Mummy owie,” Milly insisted, pointing to Ava’s foot. Her ankle had already swollen.

“You are right,” Cristiano said, ruffling Milly’s hair. “Mummy’s hurt her ankle, but daddy’s going to play doctor and look after it, okay?”

Milly looked from one to the other, as though a light bulb was flaring to life. “Mummy? Daddy.”

Ava felt a wall of emotion wrap around her. Despite the fact that Milly had no little friends and didn’t go to any crèches or kinders, she innately understood the value of a mummy and a daddy. Of two parents who love the same small person.

“Mummy’s going to be a good patient, aren’t you?” He said, putting a hand around her waist and hooking it under her arm.


Tags: Clare Connelly The Henderson Sisters Billionaire Romance