Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary

Not if Luca could avoid them.

Rinaldo’s words rang in his ears. ‘The D’Amato name goes on. Salute!’

Not if Luca could help it.

The last D’Amato—he was it. He had sworn that on his Aunt Maria’s grave, that night when he’d been eighteen. He had sworn that the D’Amato line ended with him.

If he could keep his heart closed, never fall in love, then he could never cause pain to anyone else.

It really was that simple.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EMMA dressed in khaki shorts and a white halter-neck top and sandals and applied some light make-up, but gave up on her hair—if she brushed out the serum and lacquer, it would end up all fluffy, so instead she ran her fingers through it and tied it in a low ponytail, then tentatively made her way down to the kitchen.

‘Good morning.’ Luca stood and kissed her, but didn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he introduced her to a rather formidable man who was sitting at the table. ‘This is Leo, Dr Calista—he was called out yesterday to an emergency, so he could not make the wedding. And this is Rosa, the nurse.’

Rosa was at the kitchen bench, measuring out medication, and gave Emma a brief smile, then turned her attention back to her work. Dr Leo Calista was more formal than the people she had met so far. Instead of kissing her on the cheeks, as everyone else had, he stood as she entered and shook Emma’s hand. He was also familiar to her and Emma frowned as she tried to place him.

‘I was in the UK for a conference recently!’ He smiled at her confusion. ‘I dropped in to see Luca to update him on his father…’

‘No, that’s not how I know you.’ Emma frowned, sure that she would remember.

‘We have spoken on the phone.’

And that must be it. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

‘You too. And as a near local now! It is good to see Luca bring a friend here; you are welcome.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied, a little bewildered.

‘Gradite unirli per la prima colazione?’ Mia offered, inviting the doctor to join the family for breakfast, but Dr Calista declined, instead asking if he might see Rico.

‘He seems nice,’ Emma observed as the trio made their way out of the kitchen.

‘He’s a good doctor. He is from the village, he studied medicine in Roma, then returned, but always he keeps up to date. He has been good to my family,’ Luca explained. ‘His care has meant my father can be looked after at home.’

‘That must mean a lot.’

‘It does to my mother, but I think that my father should be in hospital—now that the wedding is over. I spoke with Leo before…’

‘What did he say?’ Emma asked.

‘That it is not my choice. That my father wants to die at home and my mother wants to nurse him.’

‘Then you have to respect their wishes…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw his sharp expression, and there was a pause, a long tense pause as Luca made the decision, as he picked the fight…

And let her go.

‘Don’t tell me how to deal with my family, Emma—you can drop the concerned act when there is no one else present.’

‘Act?’ She had missed the change—was still working on yesterday’s clock. Yesterday, when he had held her, kissed her, adored her, and it took a moment to flick to the new time zone Luca now demanded she adjust to.

‘When we let people think we are together.’

‘There was no one present in the bedroom last night,’ Emma pointed out, ‘but that didn’t stop you making love to me.’

‘Making love?’ Wide eyes mocked her, a cruel smile on his face as he jeered, ‘Why do women always call it that?’

God, but he could be sadistic. She could feel tears sting her eyes but she refused to let them fall. ‘Because that’s how it felt at the time, Luca.’

‘It was just sex, that’s what I’m paying you for, Emma, if you remember rightly. Remind me again, how much are the back fees for your father’s home?’ And then he was silenced, her hand slicing the air to meet his cheek, but his hand caught her wrist before it made contact.

‘That would be extremely silly.’

‘You’re utterly despicable!’ she gasped.

‘Brilliant in bed, though. Tell me again, how much are the back fees for your father?’ Luca drawled. ‘Pillow talk is just that, Emma, you said yourself it is what men do.’

‘This wasn’t about money,’ she denied, because his offer to help her had come after she’d slept with him. God, she hated him, hated what he was doing to her and that she didn’t understand why he was doing it.

‘I hate you!’ she cried.