Whisked Away by the Italian Tycoon

‘I...’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘It’s a moot point. Because we aren’t a couple.’ That was true enough, so what was he doing? Yet she was beautiful and for some reason he wanted her to know that. But Emily continued to speak. ‘Unlike everyone else here. It’s like Romance Central, Cupid’s arrows darting everywhere.’ Her voice held more than a hint of disparagement and he decided to go with the opportune change in subject.

‘Perhaps those arrows are missing their mark. Or these people could be here desperately trying to spice up a dead marriage, or this is what they do every year and they are utterly bored, or they could be plotting a divorce or a murder...’

‘OK, Mr Cynic. I’m guessing romance isn’t your thing.’

‘No.’ His gaze rested

on the flower he’d just put in her hair. ‘It’s not.’ The words almost over-emphasised, a reminder to himself.

She raised her glass of water. ‘Good call.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘So this isn’t the sort of place you’d bring a partner on holiday.’

‘I wouldn’t bring a partner anywhere on holiday. That’s not the way my arrangements work.’

‘Arrangements?’ Her nose wrinkled as she looked at him questioningly, tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, the movement fluid and familiar, and for some reason it tugged at something in his chest. His gaze lingered on the flower in her hair, the contrast of colour, the delicate shape of the petals against the silky softness. And a memory of their shared kiss suddenly blasted his brain. Perhaps this would be a good time to remind himself of his relationship rules, demonstrate exactly how far out of bounds Emily was.

‘Basically I date women who fit a certain criteria, who are looking for the same things that I am. A relationship where we enjoy each other’s company every so often but without clinginess or neediness on either side. No expectations other than an entertaining dinner companion, a bed partner, someone to take to social functions. The occasional night away but definitely not a holiday.’

‘But how do you keep it like that—surely if its long-term you get to know each other better over time, start to like each other more?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m talking about meeting up once, maybe twice a month. Not keeping toothbrushes at each other’s place. The essence is that it’s low-key, not intense. Fun and easy. Nothing heavy.’ It was a system he had perfected after his break-up with Lydia. A system devised to ensure no investment in deep emotion, dependency or love. That way there was zero risk of hurting or being hurt. One thing was certain: Luca Petrovelli would never open himself up to the risk of abandonment again. He could spot a pattern when he saw one: first a father he had loved and then a girlfriend he’d adored. ‘That way no one gets hurt.’

‘But you can’t guarantee that.’

‘I can try. I take care to only date women who are not emotionally vulnerable. For example, I would not date someone who has recently been in a relationship.’

She waited until the waiter came and took their orders and then leaned forward. ‘But what if a woman wants something different from you?’

‘Then she shouldn’t date me. I am upfront from the beginning as to what I can offer and what I want in return. And I do my best to make sure any woman who I date truly wants the same.’

‘But how can you be sure of that? You seem to want a fun, low-maintenance woman with no emotional needs at all. Does that exist?’

‘Yes. There are women who are not interested in a happy ever after. I don’t want to get caught up in anyone’s desire for love—I won’t hold them back on their quest. Neither will I pretend or con them into believing I am something I’m not. That I’ll be there for them on a weekly or daily basis. Equally I don’t expect them to be there for me. It works and there are plenty of plus points. Enjoyable dates with no pressure, relaxed conversations, sharing a nice time.’

Worry etched Emily’s features. ‘Are you in one of those relationships now?’

‘No. If I was then I would not have kissed you.’ In truth he should not have kissed her anyway; she didn’t fit his criteria, was not a woman he had discussed his relationship rules with and yet it hadn’t stopped him. Even now as he looked at her across the table the desire to kiss her again simmered inside him and he clenched his jaw in frustration. With Emily he was breaking rules; worst of all they were his own rules. ‘My arrangements may lack emotion, but they involve fidelity.’ That was important. ‘I would never betray that trust.’

‘So what happened with your last arrangement?’

He sipped his beer. ‘Georgia worked for an international company—she got an assignment overseas.’

‘And you didn’t mind?’

‘Not at all. I was happy for her—it was a promotion she’d worked hard for and she deserved it. We said goodbye and wished each other well.’

‘How long had you been “together”?’

‘About eighteen months. But we’d probably only seen each other twenty times in total over that time. She travelled a lot for work.’

‘And before that?’

‘Marina broke it off—she met someone else.’

‘And that didn’t bother you?’

‘No, that’s the beauty of this. No one gets hurt.’

‘But it’s also sad. The idea of these women moving on and not having made enough of an impact on your life for you to even care.’