Whisked Away by the Italian Tycoon

CHAPTER FOUR

LUCA DID ONE last quick recap of the pros and cons and then, ‘It’s a way for you to learn more about Palazzo di Cioccolato. Come back to Turin with me tomorrow and I’ll give you a tour of the factory and headquarters. I really like the way you immerse yourself in everything to do with the product and I think the best way to get a real feel for the business is to see it for yourself.’

Emily put her coffee cup down with a sudden thunk. ‘Tomorrow?’

‘Why not?’ Now he had a plan, he wanted to move fast, wanted to find his sister. Because whilst Jodi was a grown woman, and more than capable of looking after herself...he was her big brother and part of his job, his role in life, was to look after her. Ever since his father had walked out Luca had vowed, sworn to himself, that he would be the man of the family. And when, seven months after his dad had gone, Jodi had been born, a deep, deep protectiveness had come over him. A sense of responsibility so profound he could still remember the weight of the mantle he’d gladly accepted. So right now he couldn’t see any reason to wait. ‘My idea is we spend a couple of days in Italy and then head straight to Jalpura from there.’

Now Emily stared at him, her brown eyes wide, and he suspected she was evaluating his sanity levels. ‘Whoa. Hang on a minute. How exactly is this going to work?’ Emily raised her hands in a gesture that conveyed bafflement and he couldn’t help but note the fluid grace of her movements. His gaze lingered on the elegant shape of her fingers, the supple delicacy of her wrists. Focus, Luca. ‘Do you know how an ad campaign works?’

‘Of course, I do.’ He shrugged. ‘Well, maybe not the detail. I have an agency that usually deals with that.’

‘Well, I am not an expert, but I do know how to do a photo shoot. Usually I work with a production company. You need to do a massive amount of research, decide on the campaign and how it would work. We need to find a location, a model or more than one model. Once we find that we need to figure out clothing, we need a stylist, a make-up artist, someone to make the location look right, a lighting expert. I can’t just go to Jalpura and pluck a person out of thin air, hand them a bar of chocolate and take a photo.’

‘I get that.’ And he did—realised he hadn’t fully thought this through. ‘This trip to Jalpura would be preliminary, a research trip, to give you some ideas.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why do I get the feeling you made all that up on the spot?’

‘Does it matter if I did? I want to run with this.’

‘Enough that you want to drop everything to research an ad campaign yourself that you only thought of yesterday.’

‘Yes. There is no point in wasting time once a decision is made.’

‘But why? Surely you have a marketing director or someone else who would usually do this.’

‘I do. But I’m also a hands-on CEO. I work across all departments. I do stints in packaging, delivery, tasting, everything. Otherwise I think it’s too easy to get distanced from reality. I want to produce chocolate for everyone and for me to do that I need to understand every facet of my business. I don’t want to end up consumed only by admin and spreadsheets and profit margins.’ All true. ‘This feels right—I want to get it done. Yes, obviously, I have some stuff scheduled but I have a very efficient team of people and I can manage to be away for a few days.’ He paused. ‘Though we’ll need to sort out a visa for you. Mine is still valid from my last visit.’

‘I have a valid visa already. I got a five-year one that hasn’t run out as yet.’ He could hear reluctance in the admission.

‘So how does this sound? We head to Turin tomorrow afternoon. Next day the factory tour, after that we fly to Jalpura. Stay there a few days and we’ll be back in a week.’

‘A week?’ There was a small catch in her voice, her brown eyes wide with doubt, her upper lip caught in her teeth. His eyes lingered and caught on her mouth, before he wrenched his gaze away, stared into the dregs of his espresso and tried to dismiss a sudden niggle of doubt. A week with Emily. Seven days, seven nights... With a woman who impacted him in a way he didn’t understand.

His glib words of the previous night mocked him. Instant connection, mutual attraction, click factor. It was all that and more.

Resolutely he stopped the thoughts in their tracks. The die was cast and once this had become professional the attraction factor was irrelevant.

‘A week,’ he repeated firmly. ‘That should be enough.’

More than enough. He wasn’t sure if she’d actually said the words or he’d imagined them. ‘OK.’ She nodded and he sensed she was trying to convince herself. ‘It’s not as though we will be spending every minute together. I’ll get on with my own thing; I don’t need hand-holding.’

His gaze dropped to study her hands, the slender length, the short unpainted nails, the faint line where her wedding ring had once been. Stop looking. But as he wrenched his eyes away he saw that Emily’s gaze loitered on his hands, her eyes wide. She pressed her lips together as if to moisten them and desire gave a fierce tug in his gut.

Sufficientemente. Enough, Petrovelli. Professional, remember?

‘Excellent, as I don’t plan to hold your hand.’ The words were too harsh and he did his best to smile. ‘Because you won’t need me to—I trust you to get on with it. So, do we have a deal? I propose to pay you a flat fee of five thousand pounds for this week and all expenses paid. After that you can invoice me for the hours you put in.’

A silence and he’d give a lot to know what was going through her head. Then she nodded. ‘That sounds more than fair. We have a deal.’

Relief mixed with satisfaction—Mission Jalpura was on. Which meant perhaps now was a good time to tell Emily about Jodi, ask her if she would be willing to use her name to help him in his search. But the words wouldn’t come; instead an image of his sister filled his mind. Dark curls, fierce-eyed. And the words of their last conversation.

‘Please, Luca, let it be. I am OK, I just need to figure some stuff out and to do that I need space and time.’

‘But—’

‘No buts, Luca. This is my business, not yours. I appreciate your concern, but please leave it be. No big-brother stuff. My business, OK? Got it?’

Her lips had turned up in a smile as she’d said the words, but the underlay of seriousness had been clear.