Whisked Away by the Italian Tycoon

‘That’s brilliant.’ Her smile of approbation deepened the sense of wrongness at not sharing the whole truth. And for a moment he was tempted to do just that, explain about Jodi, tell Emily of his worry for his sister. But that was the point, he wouldn’t only be sharing his worries, he’d be sharing Jodi’s business in the sure knowledge that Jodi would see that as a betrayal. Hell, Jodi would be mad enough that Luca was here on Jalpura, let alone if he involved Ava’s best friend in his capers.

‘How was your day?’

‘I took some shots for Samar’s website.’

He heard the flatness in her voice and frowned. ‘You don’t sound happy.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not. If I’m honest I kind of wish I hadn’t agreed or that...’

‘Or that I didn’t push you into it?’ he asked, and she nodded.

‘I’m sure you meant well but...’ He heard doubt as to his motives and he frowned.

‘I did mean well—you have taken so many pictures since we’ve been here and I’ve seen how much energy you put into them, how enthusiastic you are. I thought this was an opportunity for you. To try something different.’

‘I told you already that I don’t want or need to do that.’

He decided to try a different tack, still didn’t understand why she wouldn’t follow her dream. ‘Can I see the pictures?’

‘Um...sure...at some point... I guess. I haven’t had a chance to look at them, pick out the best ones, and you’d only be able to see them on a screen right now, which isn’t the same as—’

‘So you could show me them on your phone now.’

‘Well, yes. I can access them from my phone but...’

There was genuine discomfort in her stance now, her shoulders had drooped and one arm crossed her waist, her gaze averted from his, and he came to a halt, oblivious to the people who thronged round them.

Glancing round, he spotted a small low-walled courtyard and he made his way over and perched on the stone ledge. Reluctantly she followed, and he risked a smile. ‘That’s the first time I’ve understood the phrase dragging your feet,’ he observed. ‘What on earth is wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

Luca watched as she sat on the wall; her expression showed a worry that verged on fear and he frowned. Perhaps he should back off but this didn’t make sense, plus it occurred to him, ‘Ever since we got to Turin you must have taken hundreds of pictures but you haven’t shown me a single one. Apart from one of me.’

‘You haven’t asked,’ she countered, and then bit her lip as she realised the opening she’d given him.

One he instantly took. ‘I’m asking now.’

‘I’d rather show you the finished products. It makes more sense.’

‘I can just about see that if it’s for the ad campaign, but why can’t you show me the pictures of the cocoa farm? I’m interested.’

‘I can.’ Emily sighed. ‘Of course, I can.’ But he sensed the tension that still emanated from her body as she pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. ‘Here you go.’

She handed him the phone, and turned away, arms folded across her middle.

This really didn’t make sense; he’d expected her to want to show them to him, had looked forward to her enthusiasm, the gestures, the smile. If he were completely honest he would have welcomed the closeness, the tickle of her hair as she leant over to point something out.

Now he remembered her trepidation in the London café, but that had been when she was touting for the job. Then he had understood her worries. But surely not now; why would she fear his judgement now? Yet he could see doubt and fear in her brown eyes and in the tap of her foot and the slump of her shoulders.

He looked down at her phone; her fear was infectious and for a mad instant he was sure he’d see a mishmash of out-of-focus images on the screen. He studied the first photograph, a glorious picture of a woman next to a cocoa tree, reaching up to check one of the ripe pods. The woman wasn’t young yet her body, the slightly calloused tips to her fingers, showed the suppleness of a woman used to hard work. Somehow the wide smile on her face, the vivid colours of her sari, the browns and verdant colours of the trees, the intense blue of the sky, all combined to show joy in her work, and in the beauty of her surroundings.

Luca continued to scroll down, marvelled at how Emily had captured the essence of the farm, beauty combined with a place of work, growth and productivity. The lush ripeness of the pods, the sheer quirkiness of the coconuts, the wave of the tree fronds, the movement of people going about their tasks, the casual intimacy of two women laughing as they worked, the concentration on the face of a young man pruning a tree.

He turned to her, saw she hadn’t moved, her stillness rigid as if she braced herself for his verdict.

‘These are absolutely bloody brilliant,’ he said. ‘You’ve brought the farm to life for everyone to see. As an overview and in the detail. I can almost smell the trees, feel the sun on my face. I want to meet these people.’

Very slowly she relaxed, and he was rewarded with a tentative upturn of her lips, though her eyes still held scepticism, her frown one of disbelief. ‘You don’t have to be nice.’