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‘Good,’Luca said calmly. ‘Good—hate me, loathe me. Better that than love me, because I will not love you back, Emma. I told you that from the start. I made it exceptionally clear. Don’t go getting teary now and complaining, just because the sex is too good.’
There was nothing she could say to that, nothing because the door was opening and he dropped her wrist as Dr Calista walked in. Clearly sensing the thick atmosphere, he asked in English if there was a problem.
Emma didn’t answer, appalled by Luca’s words but more appalled by her action—if he hadn’t halted her she would have hit him. She held her wrist where he had stopped her, his words still stinging as the doctor asked his question again.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes.’ Emma’s voice gathered strength. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘Actually, it isn’t,’ Luca snapped. ‘My mother is exhausted. How much longer must she nurse him at home before you admit him?’
‘Luca, I am trying to respect your parents’ wishes.’
‘Which means you are only respecting my father’s wishes.’ Luca’s lip curled as he added, ‘That is all my mother does.’ He turned to Emma. ‘Can you excuse us, please?’
As she left the room they faced each other, two proud, impressive men.
‘I am not leaving till my father is admitted to hospital,’ Luca said.
‘Then you may be here for a while, Luca.’ Leo’s words were born of exasperation. ‘Luca, what is going on?’
‘Nothing.’ He was eighteen years old again, Leo slicing the needle through the raw flesh of his cheek and asking questions, Luca pretending that he had a hangover, that there had been a fight in the next village…
‘I’m worried about you, Luca.’
‘Worry about my mother.’
‘That I do,’ Leo said, ‘and Emma too.’
‘Emma?’ Luca’s voice was incredulous. ‘You worry about Emma?’
‘I heard you fighting, and I could see the bruises on her wrist. I know this is a tense time,’ the doctor said, and Luca opened his mouth to make excuses, to lie, to cover up, to hide from it, except he didn’t. It was like a fist in his stomach—he had done nothing wrong, logic told him that, he had been stopping Emma from hitting him, that was all—and yet he felt as if he were being handed the baton.
The D’Amato curse being passed onto him, when he had sworn the line would be finally broken.
Only, unlike his father, Luca faced it.
Stood there and faced the truth.
And knew he had to deal with it.
* * *
‘I’m staying for a few days.’ Luca walked into the bedroom where Emma lay on the bed, staring upwards. He could feel her pain, sense her confusion and he could see the purple marks his fingers had left on her tender skin. He flinched inside but let nothing of his horror show on his face or in his voice. ‘You should pack.’ Luca’s head inclined to the wardrobe. ‘I’ll arrange the transport and ring Evelyn to cancel my diary for a week—I will stay on for a while. When you’re back can you speak with Kasumi…’And he reeled off his orders, spoke of nothing but work and even managed to look her straight in the eyes as he did so.
‘I take it that means business as usual?’ Emma got his point—oh, she so got the point!
‘That was what you wanted. I assured you that you wouldn’t lose your job over this. Of course…’ he gave a brief, mirthless smile ‘…if you choose to leave, I will provide an excellent reference. I have some contacts…’
He wanted her gone.
With no excuse or explanation, he just wanted her gone.
‘What happened, Luca?’ she wanted to know. She just didn’t get it. ‘Everything was wonderful…’
‘For a little while, perhaps,’ Luca said. ‘But I’m bored with you now.’
‘Should I send myself some flowers?’ Emma sneered. ‘That’s what you usually make me do.’
‘Buy yourself a leaving gift,’ Luca suggested.
‘Who said I’m leaving?’ She damn well wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. ‘When did I say that I was looking for other work?’ Deep beneath the pain of his dismissal, there amidst her loss, there was a small coup—a little surge of triumph as, though his expression appeared unmoved, she registered the slight bob of his Adam’s apple and knew she had unnerved him. She felt a little flicker of satisfaction as she refused to dance to his beastly tune. ‘I’m very happy where I am—unless you have any complaints about my work?’
