So why would it have to end so soon? Maybe it could be a few months, or even as much as a year…
He went to turn on the desk lamp, but though Evelyn had managed a close replica, the cord was on the other side, and in that second, as he reached for thin air, Luca was reminded why a relationship with Emma could never last even as long as that.
He pulled up a document on screen.
Position Vacant
Assistant PA
He read the guidelines and then added a few more words.
‘Fluent Japanese essential.’
Save the changes?
Emma knocked and he called her in. ‘I just need a file, if that’s okay…’
‘Sure.’
‘I brought you coffee.’ She didn’t appear in the least uncomfortable when she came in and placed his strong brew on his desk. In her own way, Luca realised, she was setting the tone, heading over to the filing cabinet and carrying on efficiently, as if their previous conversation had never happened.
She was absolutely gorgeous, Luca mused. Her hair was working its way out of its low ponytail, dark curls dancing around her face, and he sat watching her thin jumper strain over her generous breasts as she pulled over the foot ladder and still had to stretch to reach the top file.
She had a fantastic bottom.
Round and curvy and soft.
What was this fascination with Emma?
She was nothing like the women he usually dated—he usually liked his women trim and groomed to within an inch of their lives and preferably without an opinion.
Emma had an opinion on everything.
‘Go home,’ he said, irritated with himself now. He just wanted the temptation of her out of there.
‘Oh!’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s your art class tonight, isn’t it?’
She’d missed the last two weeks, and Emma was touched that he’d noticed. ‘Is there anything else you need before I go?’
He chose not to answer that one.
He’d get to that soon enough.
CHAPTER SIX
‘EMMA!’
There were many ways Luca said her name, and with his rich Italian accent the first couple of thousand times he had made her rather plain name sound vaguely exotic.
Just not any more.
This was a short brusque ‘Emma’ that came over her intercom and jolted her out of the notes she was compiling, a clipped order that he wanted her to come into his office now.
She had a nine a.m. meeting with HR that she had to be at in a five minutes—a meeting about which he would want a full written report on his desk by lunchtime, with question time after, no doubt. She was tempted to ignore his summons, let him think that she had already left.
‘Emma!’ The voice was just as curt, only this time it came not from the intercom but from the man himself—clearly she hadn’t responded within the requisite two seconds.
‘Didn’t you hear me?’
‘I was just coming,’ Emma said calmly.
It had been a week since Luca had put forward his ridiculous proposition—and though he’d had the good sense not to broach it again, the mood between them wasn’t great.
He wasn’t sulking exactly but, as Emma had demanded,— things were strictly businesslike and the chatter and banter had gone—and she missed it. Working such ridiculous hours, he consumed a large part of her day, and she missed that side of him, that was all.
‘I need you to set up a meeting with Mr Hirosiko. I need all the latest figures…’
Luca had recently set his giddy sights on Japan—a difficult market to break into for an outsider, only Luca had seen it as a challenge, zipping through a refresher course of the language, instructing Emma and Evelyn to learn it too, and when Luca focused, he really focused. Not only did he brush up on etiquette skills but he was suddenly into kaiseki ryori, or Japanese haute cuisine, his restless mind constantly seeking challenges, new interests. He never tired; instead, he just absorbed the new energy and expanded, moving on to the next challenge while retaining the old.
‘Set up the meeting room for a face-to-face.’ He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall some small detail from his busy, brilliant mind. ‘There is something I need to address with him first…’
‘It was his mother’s funeral last week,’ Emma responded. She knew because she had arranged the flowers and condolences that had been sent on behalf of D’Amato Financiers.
‘That’s right.’ He nodded brief thanks—he would start the difficult meeting with some friendly conversation, before heading for the jugular. It wasn’t actually a tactic, Emma had realised after a few weeks of working for him. Luca could separate the business side of things from the social with alarming ease—his condolences would be genuine, his sympathy real, but when it came down to business there would be no concessions or momentary reprieves—which was why D’Amato Financiers were not just surviving but thriving. Luca dealt in money, serious money—his own and other people’s—and, eternally vigilant, he preempted things with skill and ease.