Ava's soul flooded with the same emotion she'd felt when Giuseppe had p.r.o.nounced his considered opinion.

'Oh, that. . .'

She turned away to close the front door, only turning back to face Vince when the hot wave of remembered pleasure was firmly under control. The temptation to grin fatuously was incredibly strong. Instead, she looked Vince straight in the eye and smiled an under-' stated smile.

'He loved them. He wants to give me an exhibition.'

CHAPTER NINE '.

AVA had antic.i.p.ated that Vince would be pleased. Giuse ppe's opinion had, after all, validated his own. Men always liked to be proven right. What she hadn't antic.i.p.ated was that his pleasure would take such a physical expression. Clearly, she had underestimated his Italian heritage and the highly emotional and demonstrative nature it had planted firmly within his macho body.

'I knew it!' he exclaimed, and, with an excited whoop, picked her up bodily and whirled her around the foyer, which was thankfully s.p.a.cious or they might have come to a sticky end. By the time he finished the whirling around by planting her down and giving her a bear-hug, Ava was left extremely breathless and just a little on the warm side.

'What fantastic news!' He pulled back from the hug to grin down at her, his large hands still curled around her upper arms. 'And what am I up for to buy my painting? What has that old rogue demanded that I pay?"

"Northing," she said, her voice a little shaky.

Vince's hands dropped away and Ava breathed a sigh of relief.

'Nothing! That doesn't make any sense! Giuseppe's no fool. I f he wants to give you an exhibition it's because he thinks you're going to be very successful, especially in a commercial sense. People will want to buy your paintings in droves, Ava. You can count on it.'

Ava found herself flushing with pleasure. How wonderful it was to have people believe in you, she realised. And what a difference it made to one's confidence. After Giuseppe had left she'd sat right down and finished the painting Vince especially liked, then gained nothing but total satisfaction from looking at it. All those imagined faults had been just that. Imagined.

'If I am ever successful, Vince. . .' she began.

'When you're successful, Ava,' he corrected. 'There is n o if about it.'

She smiled her surrender to his single-minded confidence. 'OK. When I'm successful, I'll always remember who started me on my way. None of this would ever have happened without you.'

'Rubbish!' he denied, though she thought he looked pleased by her words.

'You don't know what your faith and support has meant to me. I would never have had the courage to show anyone my work on my own. Which is why I didn't ask Giuseppe to put a price on your painting. I #.

want to give it to you, as a token of my grat.i.tude. Please. . .don't say no. . .'

Ava choked up at this point. Perhaps because of all that had happened to her today, or because her offer had the sounds of goodbye attached. She wasn't sure which. But the renewed realisation that their friendship was swiftly drawing to an end might have had something to do with the lump filling her throat.

'I wouldn't dream of saying no,' Vince said with gentle softness, bending to press a tender but totally unloverlike kiss on her forehead. 'Thank you, Ava. It will have pride of place in my collection.'

Ava was forced to clear her throat and to blink rapidly. 'Your. . .collection?' she asked, dragging up a blandly curious expression from somewhere.

'Yes. I've purchased something from every one of Giuseppe's student exhibitions over the past few years. I'm no expert but I know what I like. And I value Giuseppe's opinion. I have no doubt that in years to come my collection will be extremely valuable. Meanwhile, it gives me enormous pleasure.'

'I'm sure it does. Goodness, what are we doing still standing here in the foyer?' she exclaimed before she burst into tears. 'You must think me a simply dreadful hostess. Come along into the drawing-room and I'll get you a drink. Or some coffee, if you'd prefer.'

'I would prefer coffee, but not the drawing-room. That room's only fit for musical soirees. I much prefer the kitchen.'

'Whatever you say,' Ava shrugged.

'Are you going to take lessons from Giuseppe?' Vince asked on their way through the family-room.

'Definitely. He's going to teach me oils too. I've always wanted to learn oils.'

'When do you start?'

'In a couple of weeks.'

And when will the exhibition be?'

Not for quite a while. I have to finish all those paintings and do a few more, he says. Perhaps early in the New Year.*

Once they arrived in the kitchen, Ava astounded herself by being able to make coffee and talk at the same time. Normally, she needed total concentration for such tasks to be completed without mishap, though at least this time she did not have to arrange things on a tray or carry that tray anywhere. All she had to do was set up cups and saucers on the breakfast counter where Vince was already perched.

It was the rotten telephone ringing that was her undoing. Ava jumped at the sound, coffee beans spilling from the spoon she was holding. She stared down at the brown stain spreading on the white counter. Groaning, she lifted mortified eyes to Vince without thinking, her personal agony at her clumsiness there for him to see. He was off his stool in a jiffy, quickly coming round to take the still trembling spoon out of her hand.

'Isn't it just like an artist not to be house-trained!' he teased gently, already cleaning up the spill with a sponge from the sink. 'Heads in the clouds, all of them. You need someone to look after you.'

When he smiled over at her, Ava found herself staring deeply into those velvet-brown eyes, her heart squeezing tight. What a wonderfully warm person he was. Despite his claim that he'd been acting out of character last Wednesday, Ava suspected that he was always a kind-hearted man, generous with his time and his friendship, quick to help someone out when they were in trouble or in need.

'Aren't you going to answer the phone?'

Ava flushed her embarra.s.sment. 'Yes, of course,' she mumbled, and turned away to lift the receiver down from the wall.

'h.e.l.lo,' she said tautly.

'Hi, there, Auntie.'

'Jade!'

'Don't sound so surprised!. I did say I'd ring you. About Papa's fiftieth, remember?'

'Yes. . .yes, of course. What did you decide?'

'Well, believe it or not, I've talked him into the idea of a party, after promising faithfully that it won't be too large or too formal. Kyle and I are going to have it here on our houseboat. I'll organise some buffet-style food and Kyle will have plenty of champers on hand.'

'And Byron's really agreed to this?'

'Reluctantly. I think he hates being reminded that he's fifty but we couldn't very well let his half-century go by without celebrating it, could we? Anyway, he's agreed to come and he's going to bring darling Catherine. Frankly, I'm dying to meet her.'

'You might die after meeting her.'

'Brrr. Do I detect a little chilliness there? What's wrong with her besides her being a sn.o.b? Is she a right b.i.t.c.h, is that it?'

'I think I'll let you judge for yourself on that score.'

Jade laughed. 'That's sitting on the fence, but I won't press. Now I want you -plus a partner, please, Auntie -to be here next Fr iday night and no arguing. If you don't know anyone you can ask, then hire yourself an escort.'

'Hire myself an escort?' Ava repeated in a shocked voice before remembering there were other ears in the room. "Jade, don't be ridiculous,' she hissed. 'I. . .I'll just come alone.'

*Oh. Auntie. . .'

'What time do you want me there?' Ava asked crisply.

Jade sighed. 'Any time after eight will do, but really, Auntie, you're going to spoil my numbers. Everyone will be here with someone.'

'Well, that's just too bad. Since it's not a sit-down dinner, who's going to notice? Now I must go. I have a. . .' She just bit back the word visitor and finished with '. . .I have coffee getting cold. See you next Friday night, Jade.'

'Oh, all right,' her niece said in a dispirited voice. 'But if you can think of someone, Auntie, do please bring him.'

Ava hung up and turned a falsely bright smile Vince's way. 'Sorry about that. Family problems.'

'Yes, so I gathered. How do you take your coffee?' he asked, having busied himself while she was talking.

'Black, with no sugar.'

His glance over his shoulder was sharp. 'Didn't you take it white on Wednesday?'

'Oh -er -sometimes I take it white and sometimes I take it black.'

His narrow-eyed glance carried suspicion. 'Mmm. I hope that's right and you're not on some stupid diet.'

'I don't diet any more,' she defended staunchly. 'I've given it up.'

'Why would you ever want to diet anyway?' Vince muttered. 'As I said before you have a very attractive, womanly body. There's far too many skinny women around these days.'

Ava laughed. 'I'll bet the woman you date are all slim.'

'The woman I choose to date are all people. They have minds and personalities as well as bodies.'

He glared over at her and she glared right back. 'Sure, Vince. But I'll bet they just happen to have beautiful slim bodies as well.'

'You're a fool, Ava Whitmore,' he bit out. 'A d.a.m.ned fool.'

'So I've been told often enough.'

Vince winced at this, closing his eyes with a low groan. When he opened them again, their expression was disgruntled. 'Here,' he said, pushing her cup of coffee towards her. 'Thanks.'

The cup was up to her mouth when his next words were delivered, making her hand tremble uncontrollably.

'I'll take you to wherever you have to go.'

Ava lowered her coffee carefully to the counter before she spilt it all down her front.

'What's the occasion?' he went on coolly.

Ava had to admit her own voice sounded just as cool, 'but inside she was shaking. 'Byron's fiftieth birthday party. His daughter and her husband are holding it. She wants everyone to bring someone, but I. . .um. . .'

'You're between boyfriends at the moment,' Vince finished for her.

Ava stared at him. Vince knew d.a.m.ned well that she didn't have a boyfriend from all she'd told him on the Wednesday. OK. so she hadn't told him about her humiliation with Byron despatching all her potential admirers by calling them gold-diggers, the last one justifiably so. But she'd said enough for him to read between the lines and conclude she didn't have men friends queueing at the door to ask her out!

'Actually, I'm between girlfriends myself at the moment,' Vince elaborated casually, 'so taking you is no trouble. I know what it's like, arriving alone when you're supposed to have a partner. d.a.m.ned embarra.s.sing.'

Ava could not for the life of her imagine Vince ever being at a loss for a partner. There would have to be any number of women in his life who would jump at the chance to go out with him.

No. . .he was just playing Good Samaritan again. And this time, she couldn't bear it.

'What's wrong?' he asked sharply when she didn't answer. 'Won't I do?'

She almost laughed. But no. . .actually, he wouldn't do. Aside from the fact she hated being the object of pity, everyone's eyes would fall out of their heads if she walked in with someone as gorgeous as he was. Jade would presume she had hired him and Byron would look upon him with outri ght suspicion, a.s.suming Vince had his eye on Ava's inheritance. As for the rest. . . Ava could imagine their reactions would all be somewhere between Jade's mercenary a.s.sumption and Byron's cynicism.

'I would be proud to take you anywhere , Vince,' she said in an emotion-charged voice. 'But that is not the issue here. The issue is that I'd rather go alone than feel you were taking me out of charity. Or pity.'

'Pity!' Vince exploded. 'Of all the stupid. . . pathetic. . .stubborn. . .' His hands shot out to grab Ava by the shoulders, shaking her good and proper. 'I do not take women out out of pity! I take them out because I like them, d.a.m.n it, and don't you forget it. Pity. . .' His lovely mouth twisted with scorn as he dragged her against him and kissed her quite savagely, his lips ravaging hers before he released her rather roughly, leaving Ava wide-eyed and breathless.

'G.o.d, I'm sorry,' he muttered, raking agitated hands back through his hair. T didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't mean to do that, believe me. I don't know what came over me.'

It took Ava a few seconds to*collect herself enough to provide an answer to his confusion.

Anger.

He'd lost his temper at being accused of something he wasn't guilty of. That kiss had been an act of outrage, not pa.s.sion. His kindness had been called pity and he'd reacted with typically Italian over-the-top emotion.

'No,' she said tautly. 'You didn't hurt me.' Not physically. . .

'What time shall I pick you up?'

Ava's breath caught. He really meant to go through with it* then?

'Don't give me any more lip, Ava,' Vince warned. 'I'm taking you and that's that.'

Ava's new sense of self warred with her pride. She didn't like the thought of Vince taking her simply because he'd backed himself into a corner. Neither did she like the image of herself turning up at that party alone.

What time. Ava?" Vince prompted curtly.

Yes. yes. Would -er -eight be too early for you?' B yron would be long gone by then, if he had to go over and pick up Catherine at her beachside apartment at Palm Beach. He might not even come home at all after work, just go straight from the city to Palm Beach.

G.o.d, was this really happening? Was she actually going to walk into Byron's party with Vince on her arm?

'Eight will be fine,' he gruffed. 'Is this do formal or casual?'

'Dressy, but not formal. Wear a suit or a jacket.'