He must explain.
He hadn’t wanted her to see him like that…
Luca turned and walked back, calmer now, together now, and then he saw her.
Kneeling on the floor, crying and scared and shaking, picking up the lamp, retrieving shards of glass—trying to clear up the chaos so that it might appear to have never happened.
It could have been his mother twenty years ago—only this time it was he who had caused the chaos, and he who had reduced Emma to frightened tears.
‘I’m sorry!’ Her voice was shaky as she took the blame, and that was what almost killed Luca. ‘I should never have put her through to you.’
It almost killed him, because Luca realised with a dread that had been building for years now—he was turning into his father.
CHAPTER FIVE
EMMA had grown up with men long enough to refuse to tiptoe around them—oh, she steered clear of Luca for a while and when Evelyn came back a new lamp was purchased, a few items replaced, and supposedly it had never happened.
Except it had.
Yet she refused to be silenced.
Refused to dance around him and refused not to question him when a ridiculous plan made itself known.
‘Can you tell me why I’m booked to attend your sister’s wedding?’ Emma struggled to keep her voice even—after all, this was her boss and this had to be a mistake, but she wasn’t going to take this!
It was six p.m. and Emma had spent the last two hours with Luca’s travel team, working out the logistics of his impossible schedule for the upcoming fortnight, only to see her name appear on the flight list for Palermo and the transfer helicopter to his village. Worse than that, she’d had to suffer the thinly veiled smirk on the travel team manager’s face when she’d asked why the hotel hadn’t yet been booked.
There were no hotels in the village!
‘Oh!’Luca had at least the grace to wince. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you…’ Luca could read women as easily as a newspaper and as her eyes widened at his choice of words, he quickly corrected himself. ‘I mean, ask you.’
‘Ask me what?’ she asked through gritted teeth.
‘You know my sister is getting married soon.’
‘Is she really?’ Emma feigned surprise. After all, she was the one co-ordinating the lavish wedding gift—a pool, and not just any pool, an infinity pool cut into the edge of the volcanic rock no less. And she was the one who had been dealing with the Sicilian foreman and the architect and the insurance company, the tie selection people, the sister and the mother, not to mention Luca’s appalling mood! Oh, yes, she knew his sister was getting married!
‘Please,’ Luca said. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.’ He frowned for a moment, then added, ‘Actually, it does—but not now. I need some help over the weekend. It’s a bit hard to explain…’
She gave a tiny shake of her head. Luca never found things hard to explain—the Luca she knew always just came out and said what he meant.
‘Well, I can’t help. I actually have plans that weekend,’ Emma said, her voice still even and calm. She didn’t actually—even though it was her birthday, she’d— made no plans other than visiting her father, but she certainly wasn’t going to let Luca know that. ‘And I know my job is varied, but playing the part of wedding planner is really out of my league.’
‘The wedding is all taken care of.’
‘So what do you need me for?’
‘It would make things easier, to have someone there with me,’ he admitted.
‘You mean with you?’ She was really shaking her head now. ‘No, Luca, absolutely not. You could ask anyone…’
‘But you’re not going to go and get any stupid ideas,’ Luca said. ‘Emma, you understand me. The last woman I brought home…’ He gave a small swallow before he named her. ‘Martha. I explained to her not to get swept away, that my family would assume we were serious, that— they would think that there was a wedding imminent. She assured me she understood, except when we got there…’
‘Things changed?’
Luca nodded. ‘I can’t face going; I can’t stand the thought of being in the same house for two, maybe three nights on my own.’ He looked at her then, at her dark curls bobbing, at the mouth that could always somehow make him laugh, at the body he thought of at night now. This was the one way he could do it—with the one woman who could make hell bearable right now beside him.
Even if it meant he would soon have to say goodbye to her…
‘I thought that with you there…’
‘Did you really think I’d say yes?’ Emma demanded. ‘Well, obviously you did if the travel team already know about it.’
‘I was going to speak to you later this afternoon. I didn’t realise the meeting had been brought forward.’
‘Well, the answer would have been the same—no!’
‘You’re making this a bigger deal than it is!’ he protested.
‘It’s a very big deal to me! Anyway, there are any number of women who would be more than happy to accommodate you. Ask one of them.’
‘My father’s ill!’ He played the sympathy card, but Emma just gave him a wide-eyed look.
‘So is mine—but I’m not asking you to share a bed with me,’ she retorted.
‘He has just a couple of months to live,’ Luca revealed.
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Emma responded, ‘but I can’t help. Look…’ she was irritated now. More than irritated, she was angry at his assumption that he could just go ahead and organise something like this without even consulting her. ‘I’m sorry he’s ill, but—’
‘I’m not sorry he’s ill, Emma,’ he interrupted her, his voice dark. ‘I hate my father—really, the end cannot come soon enough. My mother has asked, pleaded that I come, that for one final time we put on the D’Amato show…’
‘The D’Amato show?’ Emma frowned, but Luca didn’t elaborate.
‘I cannot face it.’ She’d never heard him anything other than assured and the plea for understanding in his voice momentarily swayed her. ‘I’m asking you because I know you get it…’
‘Get what?’
‘Me!’ For the first time he looked uncomfortable. ‘I have no interest in marriage, no interest in settling down—not ever. You understand…’ he gave an irritated shrug ‘…that this would be strictly business.’
‘Sharing your bed isn’t my idea of business!’
‘You’d be well remunerated…’ He took in her furious expression and hastily added, ‘We could just say you’re my girlfriend—I’m not asking for sex!’
‘Just as well, because I absolutely do not fancy you!’ Emma turned to go, her face burning. She’d heard enough, lied enough but she hadn’t actually said enough. She turned back. ‘You’re right, Luca—I do get you. And, yes, I get your good looks and your sentiments where women are concerned. I get that you have no desire to settle down and that women want more— I get it all. Well, enough to know that you rarely sleep alone, and no matter how you introduce me to your family or what you think may or may not happen between us while we’re away, but you and I, sharing a bed, well, it wouldn’t work!’
‘I