'I do. Goodbye, Byron.'

'B-bye. . .'

Ava smiled as she hung up, never having heard Byron sound so hesitant when speaking to her.

She was still smiling when she walked downstairs and made her way out through the sliding gla.s.s doors of the family-room to the back terrace, intent on doing exactly what she'd told Byron she was going to do.

Perhaps she wasn't watching where she was going. Her eyes were searching for her fantasy man. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed heels that were her undoing. Whatever, she caught her heel in something, lurched forward, then totally lost her balance.

Her fall might have been relatively harmless if it hadn't been for the heavy wooden outdoor furniture just in front of her. As she went down her head connected with a sharp corner of the table. She sprawled down on to the cobblestones, totally winded yet seemingly otherwise OK. But as she lifted her head, blood began to pour forth from her forehead in large drops.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ava stared down at the growing red puddle. It was only when she straightened and it began to run down into her eyes that she screamed.

CHAPTER FOUR.

'G OOD G.o.d, what happened? h.e.l.l!'

Ava couldn't really see. But she could hear the shock in Vince Morelli's voice. Suddenly, something soft was being pressed hard against her forehead and her knees were crumpling. Yet she didn't strike ground this time. Strong arms scooped her up and gently laid her down on some nearby freshly mown gra.s.s.

'You're lucky I heard you scream,' he muttered. *I wouldn't have if the mower had been going, but I'd stopped it to do some of the edges. Put your hand here while I mop some of this blood out of your eyes.'

He placed her hand over the mound of soft material that he'd pressed against her forehead. 'Keep it firm,' he advised. 'It'll stop the bleeding.'

He began dabbing gently around her eyes. She blinked madly to find Vince leaning over her, a bloodstained handkerchief in his hand, a concerned look on his face, and not a st.i.tch on above the waist. His white T-shirt was, at that moment, pressed against her forehead, but it took a few dry-mouthed moments for Ava's -befuddled brain to reach this conclusion, but once she did. she gasped, her fingers lifting.

'Your shirt! It'll be ruined.'

'Stuff the shirt. Keep pressing hard for a little longer,' he insisted, covering her hand with his and exerting gentle but firm pressure. Ava could feel the calluses on his palm against the back of her hand and oddly it was this awareness more than his beautiful bare chest that sent a shudder reverberating right through her.

'What happened?' he asked. 'Did you trip over something?'

Ava's whole chest contracted as a huge wave of dismay flooded in. Of course she had tripped. And fallen. And hit her head. Clumsy-clot Ava strikes again!

Tears filled her eyes.

'Hey! Don't cry. You'll be all right. Head wounds always bleed like mad. You should have seen me one day when a bloke dropped a brick on my head. I thought I was a goner by the amount of blood, but when it was all cleaned away the actual damage was quite small. I'll bet you've only got a little nick. Still, I think I'd better carry you inside. You're awfully pale. Shock, probably. Is there anyone else at home?'

'No. No one.'

He picked her up as if she were a feather, Ava blinking up at him in awe as he carried her through the sliding gla.s.s doors that led from the back terrace into the family-room. He lowered her carefully on to the * largest of the leather loungers. 'There we are. Now, no fainting on me.'

'No,' she croaked.

'Good girl.' His gentle hand on her shoulder plus his soothing smile did amazing things to her already squelchy stomach. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

'Do you want me to call your doctor?' he asked.

The thought of old Dr Handc.o.c.k tut-tutting over yet another of her accidents filled Ava with dismay. Her shudder must have betrayed her reluctance for Vince said, 'You probably don't need one. As I said before, you'll be surprised how small that cut will turn out to be. Still, I think you could do with a nip of brandy,' he said firmly. 'Where should I look, Ava? You must have some brandy around here somewhere.'

Her eyes fluttered open. There. . .there's some in the drawing-room.'

He glanced around the huge family-room with its several exits. 'Which way's the drawing-room?'

'Out there.' She pointed to the door leading out into the main downstairs hall. 'Turn right and it's the second door along on the right. There's a large rosewood drinks cabinet over against the far wall. You. . .you can't miss it.'

'Right. You stay right there, madam. No doing the fandango while I'm gone either.'

This brought some low laughter from her lips. But no sooner had Vince disappeared than the tears started anew; rolling softly down her cheeks. He was probably right about her being in shock. Suddenly, she just couldn't stop crying, no matter how hard she tried.

'Now what's all this about?' Vince cajoled gently when he returned to sit beside her, a half-filled gla.s.s in his left hand, i left you laughing and I come back to find you crying again. Just as well I brought you a hefty slug of brandy. You obviously need it.' Sliding a large palm underneath her neck, he tenderly tilted her head upwards till her quivering bottom lip found the edge of the gla.s.s. 'Open up, Ava, and take a good gulp.'

She did exactly as she was told, though it made her splutter a bit.

'Another.' he ordered.

This time, the brandy slid down smoothly.

'Again. . .'

Her wet lashes fluttered surprise up at him and his returning look was reproachful.

'Ava, you bad girl,' he rebuked, though with humour in his voice. 'If I wanted to have my wicked way with you, I certainly wouldn't pick now, would I?'

Or any other time for that matter, Ava thought bleakly. He was just being funny, trying to cheer her up. But instead of being cheered, a depression settled deep in her heart. A man as stunningly good-looking as Vince would never want to have his wicked way, or any other way, with someone like her. Not in a million years.

Suddenly, she became very conscious of his large strong hand cradling the back of her head, of his half- naked body leaning over her. He was so close and so overwhelmingly male that Ava's heart automatically began to beat madly in her chest.

She found her schoolgirl reaction humiliating in the extreme. What a fool she was, a silly stupid fat fool!

But she couldn't seem to help her rising pulse-rate any more than she could help all the futile fantasies this man had evoked since the moment she'd called him the previous evening. In desperation, she gulped down some more brandy, hoping that would bring if not total composure, then some Dutch courage with which to handle this highly embarra.s.sing situation.

'I think you've had enough,' he warned when she went to drink some more. 'No point in getting tipsy now that you've got your colour back in your face.'

Ava didn't doubt it. Her cheeks felt as if they were burning up. She felt like she was burning up.

Vince placed the near-empty gla.s.s down on the coffee-table then turned back with a serious look gathering on his handsome face. 'I think it's time I had a look at what you've done to this head of yours. . . Yes, just lie back, close your eyes and try to relax. . . I'm sure it's nothing too bad. . .'

Ava's eye-closing had nothing to do with Vince's advice and everything to do with not wanting to look upon his naked chest any longer. Never had she seen a man's shape so perfect, both in structure and proportion. His handsome face was distracting enough. His body was sheer male beauty, compelling her to wonder what it might be like to possess such a man, to be able to touch him at will. And have him touch her. . .

Ava had no personal experience to fall back on - on ly a mind full of images from movies she had seen and books she had read -bu t she was positive that making love with Vince would be a magical experience. Not that that magical experience would ever be hers.

A strangled sob punched from her throat just as he gingerly lifted the rolled-up T-shirt from her head.

'What is it? Did I hurt you?'

Her eyes flung wide open and when she saw his concern it struck Ava what a self-pitying self-absorbed selfish creature she was turning into. Here was this man. being so sweet and kind and generous, and what was she doing? Mooning over some pathetic fantasy which was so far out of whack from reality that it wasn't worth even thinking about, let alone getting upset over. If every plump, homely woman succ.u.mbed to tears and a crippling depression every time a gorgeous man wasn't attracted to her, then the world would have ground to a halt years ago.

Get real, Ava, she berated herself sternly. And pull yourself together!

Self-disgust had her finding some inner steel at long last.

'Not really,' she said with an apologetic smile. 'I'm just a big baby.'

'Aren't we all at times like this?' he teased gently. 'My mother says I'm a-dreadful patient. I never catch a simple cold. I'm always dying with the flu!'

Ava's heart flipped over at his engaging grin. She soothed herself with the knowledge that no woman could be completely immune to charm like this, let alone a love-starved spinster like herself.

'Let's see now,' Vince was saying. 'Yes, just as I suspected. Not too bad at all. I don't think it'll need st.i.tches. Fortunately, it's behind your hairline so there won't be any visible scar. Still, some disinfecting wouldn't go astray. You'd better direct me to your medicine cabinet. As opposed to the drinks one this time,' he added with another of his heart-stopping smiles.

Ava swallowed before finding a relatively calm voice. 'Melanie kept a first-aid kit in the kitchen somewhere, * but I'm not sure exactly where. . .'

'Who's Melanie? Your sister?'

'No, I don't have any sisters. There's just my brother and me. Melanie was our previous housekeeper.'

'Previous, as in pa.s.sed away?' he asked tentatively.

'Goodness, no. She left to get married a few weeks ago. I've been trying to do her job ever since. Not altogether successfully, in my big brother's opinion,' she finished with a weary sigh.

'Much as I have sympathy for big brothers, Ava - be ing one of the poor misunderstood brigade myself- yours does sound a ri ght pain in the neck. I have a feeling he and I wouldn't get along too well. Still, I doubt we'll have to worry about that, will we? Now, where else but "somewhere in the kitchen" do you keep disinfectant in this palace?'

There's some in my bathroom upstairs, but it. . . it's.

'Upstairs,' he finished drily before grinning again. 'No trouble. Upstairs we go!' Vince jumped to his feet, scooped her up into his arms and began carrying her in the right direction. T know where the stairs are,' he explained blithely. 'Saw them on my journey to the drawing-room.'

'You can't carry me all that way!' Ava protested breathlessly. The stairs go on forever, and my rooms are right at the back of the house, and I. . .I'm too heavy!'

Vince's expression was startled. 'You? Heavy ? Good grief, Ava, you're a tiny little thing.'

'In height maybe,' she muttered miserably. 'But not in weight.'

'So you're not anorexic. Believe me, that's a pleasant change these days. Besides, Italian men like their women nicely rounded, didn't you know that?' He looked down at her, brown eyes twinkling.

Ava stiffened in his arms, knowing he was just being polite and hating the way her silly heart had leapt with his cavalier though patently false flattery. If she wasn't careful here, she might stupidly start thinking there was more behind Vince's words than mere kindness, which was surely the way to a broken heart.

Vince made his way carefully up the sweeping marble staircase without appearing to notice her emotional discomfort, his apparent ease of carrying her making her concede that she certainly couldn't be as fat as she once was. But she was still carrying far too many pounds. She knew it and nothing he could say would change the truth.

'You said your room was down the back here?' he asked when they were-halfway down the upstairs hall. 'Which door?'

The last on the right.'

Amazingly, he supported her with one arm while he turned the k.n.o.b and pushed open the door to her studio.

'Just put me on that divan over there,' she suggested, shuddering with relief as his arms finally slid out from under her. When he rolled his shoulders on straightening, flexing one of his hands, she knew the effort of carrying her upstairs and opening that door without dropping her had been far greater than he'd made it look, the mortifying realisation making her shrink inside.

Yet at the same time something hardened within her, a new iron-clad determination finally to do something about her weight and body. She would not only lose a good few more pounds, she would exercise and tone up all the flabby flesh she'd abused and neglected over the years. Byron's gym downstairs had everything she needed. It was just a matter of application and discipline. Come tomorrow she would start!

But she would not do it for any man, came her second astonishing resolution, not even Vince. She would do it for herself! Never again was she going to feel as rotten as she did at this moment. For now, however, all she wanted was for him to go, so that she wouldn't have to endure any more of his bittersweet pity.

'I'm sure I'll be all right now,' she began shakily. 'I can get the disinfectant myself. Thank you for all your help, Vince. You've been most kind but you. . .you'd better get back to your mowing,.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Ava. I couldn't possibly do that. I'd worry all the time that you were pa.s.sed out on the floor up here. No, the mowing can wait a while longer. The lawns aren't going anywhere. I'll do them later.'

'But. . .but you said you could only give me this morning?'

'That was before your accident. Accidents force people to rearrange their priorities, and you, Ava, have become priority number one for me today. I'll ring up and cancel what I had on this afternoon so that I can stay here and look after you till you're fit to look after yourself.'

'But. . .but. . .'

'Don't argue with an Italian man, Ava. It leads to nothing but a sore throat and total frustration. We're well known for being as stubborn as mules, especially when we know we're right. Come now,' he continued with a drily amused note in his voice. 'You wouldn't really expect me to leave you to fend for yourself in this death-trap, would you?'

'D-death trap?'

'G.o.d. yes. Never been in a house with so many things to knock into or so many slippery floors, not to mention all those atrocious marble stairs. They're downright dangerous.'

'It's Italian marble,' she pointed out, not sure if she was thri lled that someone else found the house an accident waiting to happen, or piqued that he was criticising Belleview, which was considered one of the finest homes in Sydney. 'Italian marble is the best in the world!'

'Quite a lot of things Italian are the best in the world,' he said with a wicked glitter in his eyes, 'but that doesn't mean they can't be dangerous if used incorrectly.'

'Most people don't have trouble with the stairs,' she mumbled. 'Only me. . .'

'What do you mean, only you? I had the devil of trouble keeping my footing.'

'Only because you were carrying me.'

Her disgruntled tone brought a dark glance and she would have given anything to know what he was thinking. 'Now look here, Ava,' he said after a few seconds' black silence. 'If I say the stairs are d.a.m.ned dangerous then they are! Look, why don't you have a carpet strip run up the middle and along that hallway outside? A deep blue would go nicely with all the grey and white. Match those pretty blue eyes of yours too,' * he added, looking straight in those eyes with something close to admiration.

Ava gulped in an attempt to control her over-the-top pleasure at this new compliment which she couldn't entirely dismiss. Sh t did have pretty blue eyes. Her view of her appearance was not so jaundiced that she refused to acknowledge her one good a.s.set. But surely pretty blue eyes weren't enough to attract a man like Vince.

Confusion reigned supreme in her heart till she reasoned that even if Vince didn't look like a typical Italian lover-boy, he was quite cap able of acting like one. No doubt flattery for females flowed from his lips quite easily, and without great thought to their effect. Still, she couldn't help pinking with pleasure at his comment, which brought another sharp glance. Clearly, Vince Morelli wasn't used to women blushing at his tossed-off lines.

'I. . .1 don't think Byron would approve of my changing the decor around here,' she said lamely.

That brother of yours is beginning to sound like an ogre! But enough of him for now. If we don't clean and disinfect that cut soon, it will form a scab. Where's the bathroom you told me about?'

'Through that door.'

Ten minutes later, Ava's wound had been gently but expertly administered to, she had taken two aspirin Vince had also found in the bathroom cabinet and was lying back on the roomy old divan resting, while Vince was out in the hallway, making a couple of phone calls. Any further protests over the time he was wasting on her had been ruthlessly dismissed and Ava finally decided to wallow in this one-time experience of being cosseted by the sort of man who had previously only existed for her in a movie or in her mind.

She was not foolish enough to think there was anything behind it but a quirk of fate. And she knew that when today was over their time spent together was going to be nothing but a pleasant memory. Vince had already told her that this was the one and only time he'd be mowing her lawns. In future, one of his younger brothers would be mowing them, as well as any of the other ch.o.r.es she needed doing around Belleview. But he was going to finish mowing her lawns later today. He'd promised. Meanwhile for the rest of the morning he seemed prepared to pander to her every whim.