Castellano's Mistress of Revenge by Melanie Milburne Page B

thingstheir way and their way only. If I were you I wouldn’t make a fuss if he plays around behind your back or indeed right under your nose. I know for a fact Hugh’s had a few flings, but what’s the point in rocking the boat when it’s sailing in the direction you want it to go?’
    Ava couldn’t wait to get away from the woman’s gold-digging cynicism. She felt tainted by just being in her presence. ‘Look, Chantelle, I really have to go,’ she said, this time managing to get her arm out of the older woman’s grip. ‘Things are not what you think with Marc and me. We were together in the past. We are trying to make a go of it this time. I wouldn’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression or anything. You know how the Press has always had it in for me.’
    Chantelle smiled a bleached-white smile that fell a little short of genuine. ‘I understand perfectly, darling,’ she purred. ‘Marc Castellano is super-rich and super-sexy. You’d be a fool to let him slip through your fingers. Get a ring on your finger though and quickly. The Press can say what they like, but once you’re legally his wife they’ll leave you alone. That’s what happened with me, in any case.’
    â€˜We have no intention of marrying at this point,’ Ava said, even though for some reason it hurt to say it out loud.
    Chantelle patted Ava’s arm in a patronising manner. ‘Then see if you can get him to change his mind,’ she said, winking suggestively.
    Ava made good her escape when another acquaintance of Chantelle’s came out of the spa and diverted her attention.
    As she made her way back to the villa Ava felt sickat the thought of being associated with someone as shallow and selfish as Chantelle Watterson. She had always hated the thought of people assuming she had hooked up with Douglas Cole for the very same reasons Chantelle had married Hugh Watterson. But for Serena’s sake she had put up with it, being—back then—reasonably confident it wouldn’t be long before she would move to the other side of the globe and put it all behind her.
    Douglas had told her from the start about his diagnosis of bladder cancer; however, he had wanted no one else to know for the sake of his business. He had said he was worried about investors pulling out if they knew he was terminally ill. He had said he had been given less than two years to live, but he had made it to five. Ava often wondered if he had lied to her about his prognosis but she had no way of finding out now. Although the five years at times had felt like a prison sentence, she felt she had done the right thing in staying with him that final year so at least he was not left to die alone.
    Â 
    Another three days passed without any contact from Marc and Ava began to hover around the villa phone as well as keeping her mobile switched on and with her all the time. It annoyed her that he was able to keep her on such tenterhooks in spite of her determination to carry on as normal. The trouble was the villa seemed to have breathed in the very essence of him. Everywhere she went she felt his presence. Even swimming in the pool made her feel every sensation he had evoked in her, unsettling her to the point where she came in after only a couple of laps. She felt him on herskin, she felt him in her body, even her inner muscles tweaked with the memory of him possessing her. The red patch on her back had almost faded, but she still found her fingers going to it, tracing over it as she pictured Marc thrusting into her so roughly, as if he couldn’t contain his need of her. Her breasts, too, ached for the cup of his hands or the suck of his mouth. Day after lonely day she had to distract herself from thinking about him, holding her emotions in check in case they flooded out of control.
    After giving up on a swim, Ava showered and changed and came downstairs to her favourite sitting room,