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‘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!’
