Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary

‘Are you doing anything tonight?’

‘Actually, yes,’ Emma said through gritted teeth, ‘I’ve got plans.’

‘Well, cancel them.’ Luca shrugged. ‘Ruby was supposed to be coming with me to some awful dinner dance at Hemming’s. It’s plus one, so I’m expected to bring someone.’

‘I really do have plans!’ Emma repeated, because she was beginning to get tired of this—she worked hard, more than hard, but this would be the fourth night in a row that she hadn’t got to visit her father and it simply wasn’t fair—surely she was allowed to have a semblance of a life? ‘I need to visit my father,’ she reluctantly explained, loath to let Luca in on her personal life. ‘I told him I’d be over tonight.’

‘So, tell him that you are working.’

‘I’ve been putting him off all week.’ She just couldn’t do it to him again. ‘I’d really like to finish on time tonight.’ When Luca just frowned, she pushed a touch further. ‘Look, I don’t usually say no, but surely there’s someone else you can ask?’

Which was a stupid thing to say. There were plenty of women Luca could ask, and there was one reason and one reason only that he was asking her! ‘I was hoping for an early night,’ Luca sighed. ‘At least with you it would be just dinner!’ Which was a rather strange compliment, but it bought a reluctant smile to her face. ‘I’ll ask Evelyn—where is she, by the way?’

‘No, don’t…’ Emma flustered, for Evelyn had sneaked off to the doctor’s to pick up her vials and needles for her final round of IVF, which she was starting in the morning. The last thing the poor woman needed was a night on the town with Luca. ‘I’ll just go. It’s fine.’

‘You’re sure?’ Luca frowned, just a touch guilty now that he had got his own way, as he knew full well where Evelyn was. ‘Tell you what—we can visit your father on the way.’

‘We can’t,’ Emma fretted. ‘I’ll be in evening dress!’

‘So?’ Luca grinned. ‘Go on, get ready and we’ll leave in an hour.’

* * *

It was testament to the nature of her job that she could get ready for a formal function within the hour. There was a bathroom on their floor and Emma stuffed her curls under a cap and quickly showered. She even had a wardrobe in her office—her day bag was already packed and ready for her jaunt to Scotland in the morning and Emma rummaged in it for her styling wand and spare make-up bag then set to work on her face, squirting drops in her eyes in the hope they’d sparkle and then working on her lips and cheeks.

With some difficulty she pulled stockings onto damp legs and then slipped on her fast-becoming-familiar little black dress and clipped on a string of black pearls, before coaxing tired feet into stilettos.

And then she tackled her hair. Spritzing her wayward, corkscrew curls around the wand and trying to coax them into shape.

It was a routine she was starting to perfect.

‘You need some more evening wear,’ was Luca’s only comment when he saw that she was in her black dress again.

‘Just as soon as I get a day off!’ Emma retorted. ‘Aren’t you ready?’

He didn’t answer but, then, Luca rarely answered pointless questions. Instead, he strode out to the lifts with Emma following behind, holding a small suitcase to take to her father and stuffing her evening bag with keys and lipstick and hair serum and sticking plasters as the lift plummeted down.

‘I forgot to put on perfume.’

He sniffed the air. ‘You smell fine.’

Men!

He glanced at the small case she was carrying, but didn’t comment and neither did Emma, not bothering with small talk. She just sat in the back of the car with Luca as they moved at a snail’s pace through the heavy peak-hour traffic, a knot of tension in her stomach, sure that at any moment he’d tell her it was too late to stop by her father’s nursing home. Glancing at her watch, she realised they weren’t going to be able to make it and it was actually a relief—she didn’t want to explain her life to Luca.

‘The old dog’s home first!” Luca drawled, not knowing the nerve he was pricking as he let them into his apartment. The television was blaring as usual and Emma paced as Luca chopped up some chicken breast and added a spoonful of rice to Pepper’s bowl.

‘He’s on a diet,’ Luca explained.

She didn’t quite get where Pepper fitted into the scheme of things. She’d been to Luca’s apartment on several occasions and still couldn’t work out what Luca was doing with a dog. Neither man nor beast seemed to particularly like each other and the last thing a person with Luca’s schedule needed was a dog—and a lapdog at that.