Their history was a messy, tangled thread that had followed her to the present. “How have you been?” Though the question showed weakness, she didn’t care. Marie disappeared back in the direction she’d come from, her pretty brown hair flicking behind her as she went.
A muscle jerked in Cristiano’s cheek, and the same knowledge she’d always had of Cristiano was back with certainty. He might have looked as cold and in control as ever, but he was not unaffected by this meeting.
“I have been excellent, Ava.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the desk, so that his face was only inches from hers. Up close, she could smell his citrus fragrance and it sent her pulse firing.
“I see.” She swallowed, and flicked her gaze down to the reservation book. Though she used a state-of-the-art computer system to monitor her online reservations, Ava liked the reassurance of a physical book, too. She ran a finger down the page until she saw his name, and then ticked beside it. Her hair, once long and flowing, was short now, cut in an Elfin style that drew attention to her swan-like neck and delicate features. “I’ve put you in the cabin nearest the lake.” Her cheeks flushed pink and she pushed past the unwelcome memories of how often they’d swum in that glorious body of water. “The view at this time of year is quite spectacular.”
He tilted his head forward. “I remember the lake was always spectacular.”
Inwardly, she groaned. How had she ever thought she’d be able to get through this week? No amount of time nor mental preparation would ever have made her ready to see him again.
“And you, Ava? Have you been well?”
The question had the appearance of civility, but it was coated in an undercurrent of disapproval. And she understood. He had never forgiven her for choosing her settled life over the love and freedom he’d offered.
She nodded quickly. What else could she say?
“Here you go.” She lifted the keys from the desk and placed them on the counter top, careful not to touch his hand.
His sardonic smile showed he understood. He took the keys with a flicker of his eyes. “The vines look good.”
She swallowed. Anxiety was a knot in her gut. “Thanks.”
He arched a brow. “Still Riesling and Sauvignon?”
“Yes.” She licked her lower lip nervously, a habit she shared with her sister Sophie. “Jackson – he runs the vines now – wants to graft some Tempranillo on. He had a Sparkling Temp in Spain once and he reckons he could corner the industry here.”
Cristiano ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “The soil would suit Tempranillo,” he nodded. “It deserves consideration. Certainly some market research.”
Ava’s smile was wry. Market research took money – a lot of it. It was one of the reasons she’d held Jackson’s creative pursuits at bay. But if she didn’t give him some latitude, her fear was that he’d leave her. And without him and Marie, she’d be utterly lost.
“Anyway,” she shrugged, and the gesture drew Cristiano’s attention to her slender fragility.
Her voice tapered off into nothingness as she stared across the short distance, into his eyes. His beauty was a thing of enormous rarity. She’d thought it the very first time she’d seen him, and she’d thought it every time since. Even now when she understood there was a darkness to his heart that should have muddied how she felt for him.
“Anyway,” he blinked to clear whatever thoughts had been wrapping around him. “Last one to check in, she said?”
Ava nodded.
Cristiano was furious with himself. Furious with her. He turned on his heel, collected his bag and almost stormed out of the homestead as he had done then, the last time he’d seen her. He needed to put some distance between himself and Ava or he knew he’d lose it. And he hadn’t come back to Australia to do that. He’d come to stand beside one of his best friends on his mate’s wedding day, and to hell with his whole complicated history with Ava bloody Henderson.
That was in the past, and none of it mattered anymore.
* * *
“Hey, baby.” Ava’s voice was a gentle, sweet pitch, the smile obvious in the tone of her words. She padded into the carpeted room, and her heart flipped over at the sight of Milly. “Did you have a good sleep?”
Milly stretched her chubby little arms over the edge of the cot and squealed with delight. “Milly did sleep!”
“Yes, darlin’.” Ava laughed and reached down, scooping her daughter up and holding her tight. If Ava seemed a little out of sorts, Milly didn’t notice.
“My want dink.”
“A drink? Yes, it’s hot today,” Ava murmured over her head. “Come on, sweetest of hearts.”
Ava hitched Milly onto her hip and moved with easy comfort down the stairs. And with every step she took, she wondered just how she was going to explain to Cristiano that this beautiful little girl was the lingering proof of their brief, passionate affair. How could she break it to the man who wanted no-strings and no-ties that he was, in fact, a father?
CHAPTER TWO