“Does it?” She asked with obvious confusion, her gaze dropping to Milly. She tried to think rationally, but all that was clear to her was that she would be alone with Cristiano. And that she wasn’t sure her nerves would cope.

“Good, that’s settled,” Marie said with a nod. “Jack, run up and pack Milly’s stuff while I get something from the kitchen.”

Ava opened her mouth to speak but Marie shook her head. “Aves, our quarters are literally a hundred feet away. You can shout if you need me. And vice versa.”

Ava nodded slowly, but she was overrun with ambivalence.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have long to consider it. Jackson, Marie and a giggling Milly disappeared within minutes, leaving Ava, a very swollen ankle and Cristiano completely alone.

He pushed the front door shut and slid the bolt across it, then turned slowly to face her. The air crackled with tension; as though billions of tiny fireworks were being let off around them. Ava toyed with her fingers in her lap. Her heart was racing and her stomach was in knots.

“Ava –,”

“Cris –,”

She smiled awkwardly. “I was only going to say that there’s an old cane upstairs. If you’d get it for me, I think I’ll be fine to get around on my own.”

Something flared in his eyes and she knew he was trying not to react. Because she knew him. Everything about him. She understood that he was angry; but not why. “Why do you have a cane?” He said with a tight smile, revealing nothing about what his first reaction had been.

Her own smile was natural, despite the tension. “Oh, it’s decorative. If you go and get it, you’ll see. It’s really pretty.”

He arched a brow, and against his better judgement moved towards the stairs.

“On the wall in my bedroom,” she called to his retreating back.

Cristiano’s temperature rose with every step he took. He paused at the door of Ava’s room and braced himself for whatever he might see within the walls. Proof of Angus? Proof of her marriage? A wedding photograph above the bed?

He steeled himself for any discoveries he might make and then pushed the door inwards.

Her room was … lovely. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. It was modern, stylish and tasteful. Very Ava. There was no sign of any man; only Ava. And Milly. A large black and white photograph of the two of them was hanging on the wall beside the bed. Their faces up so close, their smiles matching. He stood in front of it with an odd tingling sensation running the length of his spine.

This was his family.

These two creatures, both beautiful and fascinating in their own ways.

He stared at the picture for a long moment.

“Cristiano?” Ava’s voice was impatient. His lips twitched with an involuntary smile. If he didn’t hurry, she’d undoubtedly drag her way up the stairs to see what was taking so long.

He spun away from the picture and scanned the walls. The cane was hanging near the door. It was a simple stick, nicely carved, with pale gold detail around the handle. He frowned as he unhooked it, and carried it down the stairs. “Got it,” he said as he entered the room and his body lurched at the sight of her, so elegant but in obvious discomfort.

“Here you are,” he held the cane out in a silent challenge. Damn her stubborn streak to hell. Her independence was a force he’d never fully appreciated.

“Thank you.” She used her hands to lever her leg off the stool and gingerly placed it on the ground. She winced as it touched the floor but she made an effort to conceal the reaction from him. She curled her fingers around the cane and put most of her weight on her good leg as she pushed to standing.

The pain was excruciating. Sharp arrows of intense soreness spasmed up her leg. She swore softly. Before she could collapse back onto the sofa, or worse, the floor, Cristiano’s strong arms lifted her to his chest so that he was cradling her close to him.

“Damn it, Ava,” he said, staring down at her with obvious frustration. “Why are you so determined not to need anyone?”

His words, his actions, his nearness, struck her dumb.

He strode through the downstairs reception area into the guest bedroom and shouldered the door open. Memories were everywhere, cluttering the very air he walked through.

This room; the pleasure and pain. He eased her to the bed with a gentleness that turned her heart over, propping pillows behind her head and beneath her sore ankle.

“Stay here,” he said warningly as he cut across the room.

“Not sure I’m capable of anything else,” she admitted with a frustrated grimace.


Tags: Clare Connelly The Henderson Sisters Billionaire Romance