Unlocking Her Innocence Part 9

It's exceptional y cold.'

'The party schedule is tight. It has to be today so that I can dress the tree tomorrow.' Ava tried very hard not to stare at him. After al , it was barely forty minutes since stare at him. After al , it was barely forty minutes since they had parted in her room to shower and dress. Now, just like her, Vito was casual y clad, a powerful y masculine gure who dominated the room with his presence. The strong hard bones of his face al ied to the deep-set bril iance of his spectacular dark eyes gave him a sizzling charismatic appeal that ignited every cel in her body. He lit her re, he oated her boat, he turned her on, she acknowledged abstractedly, instinctively struggling to ght free of the s.e.xual charge he put out, wishing she were less of a pushover in that category. She badly needed distance, rational thought and a cool head ... but terrifyingly none of those necessities were at her disposal.

Vito tugged out a chair by the table for her in an e ortless display of courtesy that made her tense. He treated her as though she required his care and protection and, although his at itude often jarred with her staunchly independent spirit, she was also aware that on some level he was satisfying a secret craving deep down inside her. 'We're having pancakes this morning- my housekeeper tel s me they're your favourite,' he announced.

A wash of over-emotional tears momentarily stung Ava's eyes. n.o.body had ever made a fuss about her birthday before. Indeed on several occasions that special date had been entirely overlooked. Equipped as she now was with the true facts of her background, Ava could understand why her mother had sometimes found it understand why her mother had sometimes found it easier to simply ignore her youngest daughter's birthday.

In many ways, Ava conceded rueful y, she had been a neglected child, who was neither properly fed nor clothed, while her teenaged sisters had often stayed at friends' houses to avoid coming home, leaving Ava alone with her alcoholic and often insensible mother.

Wary of the surge of her unstable emotions and distressing memories, Ava tucked into the pancakes with determined appet.i.te. A smal , square jewel ery box sat beside her plate and she rigorously ignored it, scared of what it might contain. My goodness, hadn't he spent enough money on her during the shopping trip? What else might he have given her?

'Aren't you going to open it?' Vito final y prompted.

'It embarra.s.ses me when you spend money on me.'

'It didn't cost me anything.'

Intrigued, Ava reached for it and opened it. Her heart jolted to a sudden halt and she swal owed with di culty because the box contained Ol y's gold St Christopher medal. 'You can't give me this.'

In answer, Vito sprang upright, hooked the chain onto his ngers and nudged her hair out of the way to place it round her neck. 'You should have something to remember him by, cara mia,' he said flatly.

'Thank you ...' Ava said shakily as the cool metal set led against her skin. She was painful y touched by the gift. It could surely only mean that Vito had moved gift. It could surely only mean that Vito had moved beyond thinking of her solely as his brother's kil er to recal instead her once close and loving friendship with his sibling. For that piece of undeserved good fortune she was eternal y grateful.

'It once belonged to my father and Ol y cherished it.

Come on,' Vito urged hurriedly as her mouth trembled.

'It's time to pick the tree ...'

Ava hastily swal owed back the thickness of tears clogging her vocal cords and clat ered down the steps in his wake with Harvey to climb into the waiting four-wheel drive. Vito drove down rut ed tracks to the conifer plantation at the back of the estate and vaulted out to retrieve a paint tin and brush with which to mark the chosen tree. The icy breeze stung her damp cheeks. Her hand stole up to brush the St Christopher at her throat. St Christopher, the patron saint of safe journeys. Ol y hadn't been wearing it the night of the crash because the chain had broken.

She trudged into the great stand of trees, banishing recol ections of long-gone Christmases with rigorous self-discipline. In the mood she was in the last thing she needed to be doing was wal owing in the past, she conceded humbly. She paused in front of a fteen-foot-tal conifer with a model shape and dense branches that skirted it almost to the ground. 'That's de nitely the one.'

Vito marked it with the paint and set down the tin to Vito marked it with the paint and set down the tin to ram his chil ed hands into the pockets of his jacket, standing tal and braced into the wind clawing his black hair back from his darkly handsome features. 'That was quick.'

'It's a cla.s.sic ... oh my goodness, it's snowing!' Ava carol ed, hurrying into the clearing open to the sky to raise her hands to the fat white akes oating slowly down.

Vito watched her chase snow akes, her bright blue eyes intent against her breeze-stung complexion, her vibrant copper hair anch.o.r.ed below a cream wool en hat. She had no thought of what she might look like, no concern that he might laugh at her. She was as uninhibited in her enjoyment as a child, her enchantment etched in her face with an innocence she had yet to lose. Seeing that vulnerability disturbed him, put him in mind of the fact that even her family had rejected her. It was the belated acknowledgement that her family lived only down the road that prompted him to say, 'I think it's time you visited your family.'

Ava froze. 'Been there, done that,' she declared sti y without looking at him as she stooped to lift up the paint tin. 'I'm freezing ... let's get back to the car-'

'When did you visit them?'

'Yesterday,' she extended reluctantly.

Vito frowned and made the connection, shrewd dark eyes bronzing with sudden intensity. 'What the hel eyes bronzing with sudden intensity. 'What the hel happened?'

'I found out that I'm not Thomas Fitzgerald's daughter, after al . I'm a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, father unknown,' she con ded doggedly between grit ed teeth as she stalked ahead of him towards the car.

'You're ... a what?' Vito closed a strong hand round her slim shoulder to force her to turn her head to look back at him again.

Ava explained what she had learned in as few words as she could manage. 'So, you see, you real y couldn't expect any of them to have visited me while I was in prison or to bother with me now-I'm not and never have been part of their family and they nal y feel that they can be open about that.'

Appal ed, Vito swore under his breath in Italian. 'You should have been told a long time ago and never in such a cruel manner.'

'n.o.body was cruel!' Ava interrupted in heated disagreement. 'Thomas Fitzgerald was fed up with having to live a lie and you can't blame him for that.'

'I-'.

Her eyes ashed with anger. 'It's none of your blasted business!'

Silenced by that forthright declaration, Vito drove back to the castle with a ercely tense atmosphere between them. Ava breathed in slow and deep, ghting to control her distress. She hadn't wanted to tel him but he had her distress. She hadn't wanted to tel him but he had virtual y forced her to speak. Now he had to be embarra.s.sed for her but the last thing she wanted or needed was his pity. Every atom of her being reared up in a rage at that humiliating prospect.

Eleanor Dobbs was waiting for them in the big hal .

The housekeeper's expression was grave and anxiety in ltrated Ava as the older woman extended a folded newspaper to her employer.

Vito glanced at the headline, 'Barbieri with bro's slayer,' and the accompanying photographs, one of Ava at the time of the accident, the other of her by his side in London the day before. His handsome mouth compressed into a tough line while Ava peered over his arm to study the same article and turned white as the snow beginning to lie on the ground outside.

CHAPTER NINE.

PRESSED into the library, Ava lched the newspaper from Vito to get a proper look at the article. She spread it out on his desk and poured over it to read every word while he remained poised by the re to defrost, his expression forbidding and stormy.

'This is horrible,' she mut ered in disgust.

'It is what it is,' Vito responded stonily. 'The truth we can't change. I can't sue anyone for tel ing the truth but I wish I'd chosen to be more discreet in your company yesterday. What I do want to know is where they got the tip-o from. I wil be questioning my sta . n.o.body else knew you were here.'

The truth we can't change. That statement rang like the crack of doom in Ava's ears and her heart sank to the soles of her feet. It was the truth, the elephant in the room whenever they were together. Serving a prison sentence hadn't cleared her name, rehabilitated her reputation or made her one less jot guilty as charged of reckless endangerment of Ol y's life. She stil ed on that thought, cold inside and outside, her skin turning clammy. Maybe this was the real punishment for what she had done, she conceded, never ever being able to forget for longer than a moment in time.

Vito strode to the door. 'I'l talk to the staf .'

'Wait ... at least one other person knew I was here,'

'Wait ... at least one other person knew I was here,'

Ava volunteered abruptly. 'I was visiting Ol y's grave and she recognised me. I thought I'd seen her before somewhere but I didn't know her-Katrina Orpington?'

Halfway out of the door, Vito came to a sudden halt.

'Katrina? The vicar's stepdaughter?'

'Is she? Blonde? Looks a bit like a model? She cal ed me a kil er, thought it was o ensive that I should be in the cemetery,' Ava advanced woodenly.

Vito's gaze ared hot gold. 'And you didn't warn me?

Dio mio, is there anything you're wil ing to tel me?'

Her troubled eyes veiled and her soft lips rmed. 'You don't need to hear that kind of stuf .'

'I don't need to be shielded from it either!' Vito growled, his anger unhidden.

In the simmering silence Ava perused the newspaper again. No, on one score Vito had proved correct: the item contained no lies, simply the facts inviting people to make their own judgement of how appropriate it was for Vito to be entertaining his brother's kil er. In the photo taken yesterday, having taken fright at the sudden appearance of the photographer, she was clinging to Vito, leaving lit le room for doubt that theirs was an intimate relationship. The article would certainly raise brows and rouse condemnation. Her face burned, guilt and regret a.s.sailing her. Vito had been good to her. He did not deserve public embarra.s.sment on her behalf. She should never have come to Bolderwood: returning to the should never have come to Bolderwood: returning to the scene of her crime had been asking for trouble. It hurt that she had made the mistake but that Vito was being asked to pay the price.

Al she could do was leave: the solution was that simple. Gossiping tongues would fal silent once people realised she was no longer around. She hurried upstairs to her room, dug her rucksack out from between the wardrobe and the wal and proceeded to pack it with her original col ection of spa.r.s.e clothing. She discarded the out t he had bought her but kept on the underwear.

She wondered if someone would give her a lift to the local railway station, checked her purse to see if she had enough for the fare: she didn't. She would ask Vito for a sub on her salary although she cringed at the prospect of directly approaching him for money and accepting it from him. It would feel downright sleazy.

Without warning the door opened. Vito scanned the smal pile of clothing on the bed, the open rucksack, and shot a gleaming, cut ing look at her that would have withered a weaker woman. 'Madre di Dio! What the hel are you doing?'

Ava ducked the direct question. 'I should never have come here in the rst place-it was asking for trouble! I did try to warn you about that.'

Vito shifted a silencing hand. 'Enough with the lie-down-and-die mentality,' he derided. 'You're tougher than that.'

than that.'

'Maybe I thought I was but I've just realised that you can't beat social expectations, you can't out the system and then complain when you become a target.'

'No, you can't if you're a coward.'

Blue eyes darkening with fury, Ava pushed her chin up. 'I'm not a coward.'

'You're get ing ready to scut le out of here like a rat leaving a sinking ship,' Vito contradicted without hesitation. 'What else is that but cowardice?'

'I'm not a coward!' Ava proclaimed, in amed by the charge. 'I can take the heat.'

'Then take it and stay.'

Ava s.n.a.t.c.hed in an uneasy breath. 'It's not that simple.

You don't need this ... er ... trouble right now.'

Vito squared his big broad shoulders. 'I thrive on trouble.'

Ava tore her strained gaze from the bold chal enge in his features, her heartbeat quickening. She wondered how long it would be before she could picture that darkly beautiful face without that happening. Here she was, twenty-two years old, and she was as infatuated as a teenager with a man who could only hurt her. That was not a record to boast about and the best thing she could do for both of them was sever the connection in a quick, clean cut that would cause the least possible damage.

Vito was a stubborn guy. The very idea that he should conform to social mores was anathema to him. Vito was conform to social mores was anathema to him. Vito was always ready to ght to the death to defend his own right to do as he liked. A textbook knee-jerk reaction from an arrogant, aggressive male.

'Look,' Ava breathed on a more measured note, 'al the party arrangements are in place. I'l leave clear notes and contact details for al the outside help I engaged-'

'I don't give a ying ... d.a.m.n ...' he selected between grit ed white teeth '... about the party! You know how I feel about Christmas.'

'Can Harvey stil stay?' Ava prompted anxiously.

The animal concerned voiced a lit le whine and pushed his muzzle anxiously against Vito's thigh, his need for rea.s.surance in the tense atmosphere p.r.o.nounced.

Vito groaned out loud at the question. 'I think you'd have to kidnap him to take him away.'

Ava nodded woodenly because she knew she was going to miss Harvey's easy companionship and a ection. Of course she would miss Vito too but that would be good for her, character-building, she told herself urgently. She had let herself get too dependent on Vito and that was dangerous. It was bet er to get out now on her terms at a time of her choosing rather than wait for his inevitable rejection. 'I have to leave.'

'You're not going anywhere,' Vito decreed harshly.

'Be reasonable,' Ava urged. 'I can't stay after that story was published in the papers ... as if people around here was published in the papers ... as if people around here even need reminding of what I did!'

'It doesn't bother me,' Vito fired back without scruple.

'Wel , it bothers me!' Ava ared back at him out of al patience, her hands planted on her slim hips for emphasis. 'And what di erence does it make anyway?

So, we part a few days earlier? This was only ever going to last two weeks.'

Eyes smouldering between thick black lashes over that a.s.sessment, Vito shifted closer with silent uid grace.

'Says who?'

'Says me!' Ava thumped her chest in emphasis with a loosely coiled st. 'Do you think I'm stupid, Vito? Did you think I wouldn't appreciate that once the party was over, we were too?'

His face set even harder. 'I never said that.'

'Yeah, like you were planning to come cal ing at my humble bedsit on a regular basis!' Ava sco ed in disbelief. 'Why can't you at least be honest about what we have here?'

'Do you think that could be because when I dare to disagree with you, you immediately accuse me of subterfuge?' Vito queried smooth as silk, a sardonic ebony brow raised.

Ava was get ing more and more worked up over her inability to get through to him. He was dancing around words, refusing to match her candour, sel shly complicating things when she wanted it al done and complicating things when she wanted it al done and dusted, neat and tidy and over while she stil had the strength to deal with it. Before she even realised what she was doing, both her hands lifted in frustration and thumped his broad hard chest instead. 'It's over, Vito!

Fun while it lasted but now the writing's on the wal .'

'Not on my wal ,' Vito elded, closing strong hands round her waist and lifting her right o her startled feet to lay her down on the wel -sprung bed.

'What the heck are you talking about?' Ava snapped back at him in bewilderment, scrambling breathlessly back against the headboard to stay out of his reach.

'My agenda, rather than yours ... sorry about that,' Vito delivered rawly, dark golden eyes glit ering like starlight in his lean taut features as he came down on his knees at the foot of the big bed and began to move closer again.

'It's not over for me yet. Sorry, if that disrupts your rigid timetable. But I stil want you ...'

Sentenced to involuntary stil ness by his extraordinary behaviour, Ava stared xedly at him. He was stalking her like a predatory jungle cat ready to pounce. 'Now just you stop right there!' she warned him shril y.

She drove him insane, Vito acknowledged darkly.

Somehow every time they clashed she brought emotion into it, the emotion he shunned and she unleashed like a tidal wave. 'I'm not stopping,' Vito almost purred with a.s.surance. 'And you know I don't back down ...'

That dark sensual voice of his was compel ing, sending That dark sensual voice of his was compel ing, sending a deeply responsive echo strumming right through her taut length. 'You know I'm right, Vito.'

'You always think you're right,' Vito husked. 'But on this occasion, you're wrong. I want you.'