The Brazilian's Forgotten Lover: Years have passed, but old habits die hard... (The Henderson Sisters Book 3) Read online

  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

  “Ava?” Marie’s voice was ringing through the house. She lifted the bread out of the oven and placed it down onto the bench with a satisfied grin.

  “Yeah?” She called back, smiling over at Milly, who was happily engaged in finger painting her high chair tray with yoghurt.

  The door swung open and Marie strolled in. “The incredibly gorgeous Cristiano Barata is back.”

  Immediately her smile dropped and her eyes flew to Milly. “Back where?”

  “Out the front,” Marie hitched a thumb towards the reception.

  “Oh, shit.” The colour drained from her face. “Can you stay here with Milly mouse?”

  “Of course I can.” Marie turned to face the toddler and burst out laughing. “Just don’t ask me to touch her. What a mess you are!”

  Ava’s smile was forced. “Marie, keep her in the kitchen, okay?”

  Marie picked up on the note of tension and might have questioned her usually unflappable boss, except that Ava was out of the doors already.

  “Cris?” She was so terrified that she forgot to be nervous. While she’d decided she had to tell him about their daughter, it absolutely couldn’t be in that moment.

  “The power is out in my accommodation.”

  “Oh. It is?” She frowned, and looked nervously towards the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. I’ll get Jackson to come and take a look.” He had to leave now!

  “That is not necessary. It is probably just a fuse. Is the power run through the house?”

  “No,” she said gratefully, thinking back to when the big old switchboard had been in the kitchen. The very same kitchen that currently housed a dairy-covered toddler.

  “Where is it?”

  “Cristiano,” she held a hand up. “You don’t have to do this. You’re a guest. I have staff.”

  “So?” He said with a shake of his head and a laugh that sent a tingle of awareness dancing along her spine. “I have no doubt I know this place better than anyone you employ.”

  “That’s … besides the point. You’re a paying customer. Not my …”

  His lips lifted in a gesture of amusement. “Not your …?”

  “Cris …” Her voice was a plea. A noise sounded from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable tones of laughter. Two voices combined to make a single boisterous sound. “Let’s go,” she said urgently, forcing her legs to carry her out of the front doors.

  He took one last look towards the kitchen and then followed behind her.

  “You have to move your car,” she huffed as they walked side by side down the stairs. “That’s not a parking space.”

  “It seems like it to me.”

  She threw him a look of frustration. “Haven’t you learned yet that you can’t just write your own rules?”

  “No, Ava. If anything, I’ve learned the exact opposite.”

  “Meaning?” She demanded angrily, though of course it was fear that was in her heart, nothing more. Fear that she’d almost been caught red-handed with the enormous secret she’d been nursing for nearly three years.

  He stopped walking and looked down at her, and Ava paused automatically in response. “Meaning …” he enunciated clearly but his accent was heavy and seductive. He was weighing his words; his eyes scanned her face. Then, he smiled, and it was as though the sun was beaming directly through her. “Meaning, Ava, that I have travelled the world and seen things you can only imagine. It gives one a unique perspective on life and on life’s petty rules. Such as where one may and may not park a car.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and her mind spun. “That’s both arrogant and foolish.”

  He shrugged in a gesture of unconcern. “Perhaps I am both those things. That is not really your problem, is it?”

  “No.” She swallowed, her mouth working overtime.

  “I am only here a week, after all.”

  She nodded. Pain was slamming into her from all sides. He couldn’t wait to leave. He was going to hate and resent her when he discovered that leaving was not something he could do so easily, this time around.

  “And then?”

  He studied her and then began to walk to the cottages. “And then? My life resumes.”

  “This isn’t your life?” She parried, moving quickly to keep up with him. Beautiful
Milly deserved better than to be an object of disappointment. Milly was the apple of Ava’s eye. Could she possibly introduce another parent to the little girl who was used to being adored? Especially a parent like Cris, who would rail against the notion of parenthood with his last breath?

  “No.”

  She swallowed. “Where are you based now?” The question was glum; and with good reason. His insatiable thirst for newness and adventure had wrought the end of their relationship. And it was flatly incompatible with the responsibilities of being a father.

  “Napa.”

  “California?”

  He nodded without looking at her. “I’m looking at buying a vineyard out there.”

  Ava stopped walking abruptly, and her expression wore all the hallmarks of defeat and desperation. “You’re … what?”

  His face was quizzical. “I know someone who’s selling. A particularly excellent piece of land with some of the best soil and most poorly tended vines I’ve seen.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “You’ll move there?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t wander the world forever. Besides,” another shrug of those broad shoulders, “People seem to want to remunerate me exceptionally well for the work I do. It doesn’t make sense to have all that money just sitting in the bank.”

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I guess not.” But why not here? Why not Australia? And why not three years ago? Everything in life came down to timing, and in this instance, it had screwed her completely.

  He began to walk again, as if he didn’t realise that her mind was exploding with bitter realisations. His legs were long and he paced fast. They reached the cottages far quicker than she would have liked, given the heat of the day and her brow was beaded with fine perspiration.

  She rarely looked at the cottages anymore. They were just a part of the property she adored. They were quite beautiful, really, with the vines that weaved magically between them. Each cottage was self-contained and set at enough of a distance to ensure privacy. They had been Meredith’s legacy – one of the first things she’d built when she’d bought Casa Celli. The accommodation and not the vines had been her first business instincts. After all, with three small children to care for, she needed to find a way to make money that was all driven from her home.

  But the vines of Casa Celli had other ideas. Their grapes, despite being poorly tended, were excellent, and gradually she’d developed a love of crafting fine, boutique wines.

  “Eh, Cris!” A voice called towards them from across the grounds. Their heads tilted in almost perfect unison. “You said you’d be right here!”

  Ava didn’t recognise the woman. Then again, of all the guests who’d booked into the cottages, she’d only known two. The groom, and his brother. The Berries moved in very different circles to the Henderson sisters. Between their parents owning one of the most prestigious wineries in Australia, and their fancy private education in Sydney, they’d never really been around town like the other local children.

  Cristiano waved a hand in the air in acknowledgement and then turned back to Ava with a sexy grin. “The party has already begun.”

  “I can see that.” Her nod was uptight. She felt like a granny.

  These guests were all a little older than her, and yet they had more freedom and fewer responsibilities than she had felt even as a ten year old. That wasn’t their fault; Ava’s personality had always been moderate and sensible. Except for that one month when Cristiano had derailed everything she’d known about herself.

  She lifted her shoulders and then moved down the small path that led to his cottage. “May I?” She paused just outside the door. It was early afternoon but the scent of night flowering jasmine was already heavy in the air. She inhaled it unconsciously.

  He pretended to consider it. “What do you think you might find inside?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I was simply being polite.”

  He reached over and planted a hand on the doorknob; his body was close to hers and she wasn’t sure if she liked or hated his proximity. His eyes bore sunshine into her soul. “There is no politeness between us, Ava. Only truth.”

  The cryptic remark hung between them for a moment, and then he pushed the door inwards. “After you.”

  She slanted a glance at him before stepping inside.

  This was her property; and her cottage. Yet, in the space of an hour, Cristiano had managed to make it his.

  His suit for the wedding was hanging against a window on the far side of the room; and his suitcase was placed on one of the luggage racks. He must have showered, Ava noticed belatedly, because the bathroom was still steaming and a wet towel had been hung over the door. She looked toward him distractedly and noted the change of clothes.

  “I’ll just be a moment,” she murmured, moving through the cabin towards the small kitchenette.

  “If you had told me the fuse box was here, I would have fixed it myself.”

  She didn’t respond. What could she say? Of course Cris would have. At least, the man she’d known would have. But years had passed, and there was a whole lot of murky business sludging between them.

  “It made sense to have each cottage wired independently,” she explained. “That way, if one has a problem it’s contained. It was one of the first things I did when I …” She snapped her mouth shut. She had been about to refer to her pregnancy!

  “When you?” He prompted, his voice ringing with determined coldness.

  “When I could afford it,” she finished, her cheeks flushing.

  Ava crouched down in front of the sink and put her hand on the door. Right before it swung open, Cristiano touched her. His fingers curled around hers and he pulled her hand back from the melamine. His eyes were trained on her left hand, and Ava stared at him in shock.

  The contact was terrifyingly unwelcome; it seared her soul with remembered intimacy.

  “You don’t wear a ring.”

  “Ring?” She frowned up at him, her senses knocked completely off course in light of the physical contact she’d spent years trying to forget.

  “Your engagement ring,” he hissed, rubbing the space it had once taken.

  “Oh.” She dropped her eyes from his. “No.”

  “I would have thought you would never take it off.” He dropped her hand and turned away from her. “I hated that thing.” His voice was loaded with a dark emotion.

  “Did you?” Her voice was husky.

  “Of course. A constant reminder that you had promised yourself to a man before meeting me? Of course I hated it.” He bit back the words that had been on the tip of his tongue. He’d hated not just the ring; he’d hated the man, too.

  Ava looked away. Her heart hurt. Her eyes stung. But she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not after so long. She pulled the cabinet open forcefully and peered inside. “Just a fuse,” she said under her breath as she flicked it back into position. She ran her fingers across the others, satisfying herself that everything was as it should be, and then she backed out of the small pantry space.

  Cristiano was there, crouched down behind her, so that she bumped into his broad chest and would have toppled over to the tiled floor if his large hands hadn’t reached out with lightning speed to steady her. Her breath was shallow and her eyes startled to his. He didn’t move to give her space. If anything, he inched forward, closer to her, so that she could feel his warm breath on her forehead.

  She was lost in his gaze. Those same dark, chocolate eyes that had always sucked her into his orbit were hypnotising her once more. Three years after he’d stormed away from her, how could she still feel it? After all that had happened, how could it be as though an invisible rope was knotting around them and binding them together?

  “Cris?” The same voice that had called him earlier was closer now. At the door? No, in his apartment.

  It broke the spell. Ava slid sideways and stood, rubbing her hands down the front of her dress. “You’re back up and running.” she was spea
king quickly, joining her words together out of anxiety. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Cristiano looked at the beautiful Australian with an increasing sense of frustration. He had thought he was prepared for this. After all, what was she to him now? Her betrayal had wounded him as nothing else in his life ever had. She was married. No more his now than she had been then.

  Despite what her body had wanted, her heart had belonged to another man. And it still did.

  Cindy strode confidently into the kitchen. “Hey, babe. You coming over? The champagne’s flowing fast.”

  Her accent was American. Ava had a vague recollection of the woman having checked in the day before with the rest of the group. Though she couldn’t remember her name, she instantly recalled the address she’d used to confirm the booking. Napa Valley. Her heart fell, and it was only with great effort that Ava was able to keep the distress from her face.

  “Sim,” he nodded, employing the affirmative in his native Portuguese, his voice husky.

  “Oh, hey,” Cindy put a hand on Ava’s forearm as she went to move past her.

  “Yes?” Ava’s smile was difficult to manage, but she pulled on some unknown reservoir and managed it.

  “Do you have any more of those little biscuits that came in the room? We’ve eaten all ours.”

  “Oh.” Ava nodded jerkily. “Of course. I’ll bring some down.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ava went gratefully from the cottage, but not before she saw the woman with the long mane of bright fair hair put a possessive hand on Cristiano’s waist. Tears stung her eyes as she stalked back to the main house, and how she hated them for her weakness!

  Marie and Milly were no longer in the kitchen when she returned. Ava frowned and called out, but there was no reply. She went back upstairs, and then heard the unmistakable tones of splish splashing.

  “Oh, Aves, I had to give the little pumpkin a bath. She had yoghurt caked in her nostrils,” Marie laughed. “And her fingertips and her ears and her neck folds.”