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‘I’m fine.’

‘Good. You’ve got this.’

He glanced across at her and she smiled and for an instant the word ‘arrested’ took on new meaning; this woman literally stunned him. Shoulder-length straight hair, near black with a tinge of chestnut highlight, flawless brown skin and eyes with a depth of umber. Her nose gave her face character, her mouth generous. Then even as his brain registered bedazzlement her expression morphed and he blinked as she crossed her eyes and stuck out the tip of her tongue.

His puzzlement switched to instant understanding, her funny face a reminder of his own words from earlier—in a difficult situation imagine whoever is giving you grief pulling a silly face or in an embarrassing position. Now he couldn’t help but smile back at her, warmed by her gesture of solidarity and a strange sense of camaraderie, given she didn’t even know him.

He braced himself as they approached Ava and Karen; Ava stood next to her mother and he could see the family likeness, though he could also see an unsettling resemblance in Ava to his sister Jodi. Suddenly he wished Jodi were here by his side, instead of God knew where after her trip to Jalpura. Not now. He’d figure out what to do about Jodi later. Plus his sister would hate this gathering with every iota of her being. Edginess lined his gut as he forced his lips into a parody of an upturn.

‘Luca, this is my mum, Karen. Mum, this is Luca.’

He managed to keep the smile in place and although he saw the swiftly veiled venom in the older woman’s eyes, to her credit her return smile was faultless, before she turned to Emily. ‘Hello, Emily. It is good to see you again.’

‘And you, Mrs Casseveti. Especially at such a happy occasion.’

‘Yes.’ The word was said with emphasis, yet the warmth felt cloying in its falsity and he knew that if these were medieval times he would suspect a poisoned chalice at the table.

With that Ava managed to launch the conversation into fashion and Luca swiftly turned to Liam and asked about business, the next ten minutes an orchestration in small talk that successfully minimised contact between Karen and Luca whilst giving the interested guests a show of unity. A necessity to show the world that Dolci was still viable. The knowledge enabled him to play along until finally the strains of the orchestra announced the first dance. Gave them all an out. He turned to Ava. ‘Perhaps if you and Liam and Emily and I head to the dance floor together for the first dance it would be a further demonstration of family unity.’ And if the word ‘family’ held more than a tint of bitterness he didn’t care. Took satisfaction from Karen’s barely perceptible wince.

A hesitation and then Ava nodded. ‘Good idea,’ she said, and the four of them headed to the dance floor as Karen’s attention was claimed by another guest.

‘I hope this is OK,’ he said to Emily.

‘Of course. I know how important it is to show that you and Ava are working together and I know people are watching.’

‘Yes. Absolutely.’ Problem was that wasn’t actually why he’d suggested it—he’d wanted to dance with Emily. Wanted to hold her in his arms, wanted to continue their conversation, find out more about her. The depth of the desire triggered a sense of alarm, as he realised just how much this woman had hit him bang between the eyes. This was not a good idea on many levels. Emily was Ava’s best friend; every word he said to her would be filtered back, possibly analysed and discussed. The idea brought his eyebrows together in a frown. Equally he had little doubt that Ava would be super protective of her friend, which would complicate an already complicated situation.

Chill, Luca. He wasn’t planning on proposing to Emily—one dance could do no harm. ‘So I guess we’d better get on there.’

Doubt widened her dark brown eyes for an instant, almost as if it was only now the real dangers had occurred to her. Before either of them could change their mind he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

He held in a gasp, heard Emily’s intake of breath and tried to regulate his own breathing. The scent of her shampoo tickled his nose, the span of his hand on her waist, seemed to suck the air from his lungs. The soft silky sheen of her dress, her sheer closeness and warmth played mayhem with his senses as the haunting notes of the melody lingered in the air.

And she felt it too, he knew it, could see it as she lifted her gaze to his, surprise in the depths of her deep brown eyes, her lips rounded in a small circle as she moved a step closer, her body swaying in a natural rhythm with his. Now surprise morphed to awareness and he could see a desire that matched his own. And now his entire focus was on Emily, the two of them lost in the moment, so attuned that they barely even needed the music.

As the dance continued she moved even nearer, her body now, oh, so close, her arms looped round his neck and she looked up at him, lips parted, and he knew he wanted to kiss her, knew she wanted it too and his head spun; every instinct urged him to lower his head and meet her lips. Until a small alarm of self-preservation pealed, told him that if he kissed this woman he would step over the edge of an abyss.

Break this spell, whatever it is.

But how? Somehow he had to inject some form of normalcy, to ward off this insidious desire. ‘So you’re a photographer?’ It was all he could think of to say and his tongue twisted around the words, but he could see the relief on her face that he’d instigated any form of conversation. Even as he could see and empathise with her struggle to formulate an answer, and wondered if, like himself, Emily felt as though she were emerging from a fog of desire.

‘Yes.’ A pause as she straightened her spine and gave her head a small shake as if to clear her brain. ‘Yes. I am. Ready and available.’ Now her eyes closed momentarily and she gave a small groan. ‘For work, I mean. Obviously. What else could I mean? Don’t answer that.’ Her inhalation was audible as she moved a little further from him within the movement of the dance. ‘I meant I took a...a sabbatical for a year and a half but now I’m looking for work. Really looking. My plan tonight is to network.’

Luca heard the hesitation, the small catch in her throat when she mentioned a sabbatical, wondered what had made her step away from a successful career path. If she had been involved in Ava’s shoots, he had little doubt her credentials would be A grade. His half-sister had graced the cover of the world’s top magazines as well as modelled for exclusive brands. Yet Emily had taken time out, and now as she surveyed the crowd of guests he sensed her anxiety was real. ‘With the fray?’ he asked.

‘Exactly.’

‘Surely you could contact all your old clients.’

‘Yes. But unfortunately it’s not that easy.’ Her voice was clipped now, and he sensed a simmer of frustration.

‘Why not?’ It was true that he wasn’t supposed to be curious but, hell, curiosity had at least down-notched the attraction factor. Plus he wanted to know what had brought that frown to her brow.

‘I am a bit persona non grata in the industry at present.’

As she spoke the music came to an end and Luca guided her off the dance floor as a matter of priority, before he succumbed to the temptation of keeping her in his arms for the next dance. Knew that now was the perfect moment to separate, to say, Thank you for the dance. I’ll let you go and network. Good luck.

But his brain and his voice had some sort of mix-up and instead he found himself saying, ‘Why is that? Why don’t we go and sit down and you can tell me? Then you can go and network.’ Told himself there was no harm to it. In two days he would be on a plane home. Back to Italy. So surely it didn’t matter if they helped each other get through a difficult evening. He gestured to a small table partly shielded by a pillar and a luscious large-leaved plant. ‘Shall we?’

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