Boss Meets Baby: Innocent Secretary...Accidentally Pregnant / The Salvatore Marriage Deal / The Millionaire Boss's Baby

And then the nursing home rang to say that her father had been asking for her all morning.

‘He’s fine,’ the nurse assured her. ‘Just a touch anxious…’

‘Look, I know I haven’t been in as much recently.’ Emma closed her eyes in exhaustion. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to.’

‘We’re not trying to make you feel guilty,’ the nurse said. ‘You asked that we keep you up to date, and though he is confused, well…he does notice that you’re not visiting as often as you were.’

‘Tell him that I’ll be in soon,’ Emma said.

‘Can I tell him when?’

They didn’t mean to make her feel guilty—except guilty was exactly how she felt.

And at times it was completely overwhelming.

She pressed her fingers into her eyes in a bid to stem the tears, stem the urge to just throw in the towel, to let her brothers sort out the mess. To stop caring about a father who had treated her so poorly in the past.

When the house did sell, she’d be homeless. Oh, the profits from the sale would cover the overdue fees of the home, but it was the backlog of debt that was giving her nightmares.

‘Problem?’ Emma jumped, unsure how long Luca had been watching her.

‘Not at all…’ She forced a smile. ‘The meeting went well; I’ll write up a report and get the information to you.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the HR meeting.’ Luca frowned. ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ Emma said, then realising what he’d seen she relented. ‘I’ve got a bit of headache, that’s all.’

‘My housekeeper’s not well.’

‘Oh!’ Emma blinked, reaching for the phone. ‘Did you want me to ring the agency and arrange a replacement?’

‘I’ll survive for a day,’ Luca said magnanimously, ‘but I am going to be flying to Japan this afternoon. Evelyn’s coming with me, she’s gone home to get ready, so can you go over to my apartment and pack for me?’

It was a strange byproduct, Emma had realised, of being rich and in demand—there was very little personal in his personal life. There was a whole army of people ensuring that every minute of his valuable time was put to best use. Letting herself into his vast, luxurious apartment a little later, Emma bent down and went to stroke Pepper, who duly growled a warning, then waddled to the huge glass sliding door to be let out. Emma wandered out onto the balcony and stared at the spectacular view of the Thames, before setting to work. She headed into the bedroom, opening her organiser and locating the list that would tell her what was required for a two-night international business trip.

All the information was there in her folder.

His immaculate suits and shoes were packed, as was his equally immaculate casual wear, and then she opened his underwear drawer to see neat rows of folded hipsters and socks as if they were on display in an exclusive store. There was nothing personal about the choices she made—the list saw to that. These cufflinks were preferred with this tie and shirt, these shoes with that suit…It just felt personal, that was all.

‘Hey!’ Emma jumped as Luca walked into the bedroom unannounced, blushing as she held a handful of his hipsters. It just seemed wrong somehow to be going through his underwear drawer, even though it was her job to be in there.

He was completely at ease with it, of course.

Just kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed, chatting on his phone as Emma walked through to the sumptuous bathroom to pack his toiletries and to try and not listen as he made a couple of personal calls—cancelling his plans for the next couple of nights and, by the sound of it, breaking a couple of hearts in the process.

‘Why?’ Luca asked as she came back into the bedroom with his toiletry bag and was finishing off his packing, ‘when I say I’m going to Japan, do they think it has something to do with them—why would they think that I’m lying?’

‘Because you usually are,’ Emma pointed out.

‘Well, I’m not this time.’ He ran lazy eyes over her, taking in the smudges under her eyes, the vague distraction that slightly displaced her more usual sunny nature. ‘What’s wrong, Em?’

‘Ms Stephenson to you!’ Emma instantly pulled him up, refusing, just refusing as she always did with him, to cross the line. ‘But you can call me Emma.’

‘What’s wrong, Emma? And don’t give me that rubbish about a headache.’

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ Emma insisted.

He lay back on the bed, closed his eyes and gave a low laugh.

‘Now that I’ve stopped, I realise I have a headache too!”

He did—right there at the front of his head. He could hear the sounds of her packing, and it would be so incredibly easy to just close his eyes and sleep. He didn’t want to go to Tokyo. Incredibly, and not for the first time lately, he could hardly stomach the thought of the flight.

‘We should fare force…’ Luca smiled with his eyes still closed.

‘Sorry?’

‘You know…’ he waved his hand, tried to come up with the English word for it, but it eluded him, and those gorgeous navy eyes finally opened to hers. ‘Leave school…’ He snapped his fingers, impatient with himself now. ‘Not go back.’

‘Play hooky!’ Emma grinned.

‘Play hooky!’ Luca smiled at the term and closed his eyes. ‘That would be good—we could get ice-packs from the fridge for our foreheads and lie in the dark and ignore the phone.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘And I wasn’t being inappropriate.’

‘I know.’ Emma smiled, because she knew exactly what he meant, exactly how he felt, because she felt it too. ‘But we can’t.’

He looked as if he was dozing, except his mind was actually whirring.

He was sick of keeping things businesslike between them.

He was cross with himself too for his handling of things.

He wanted her.

And yet he didn’t—because he actually liked working with her. Liked having her around, and once things moved, as they surely would, well…

There was no question of a future for them.

Not even a hint of one.

He deliberately didn’t do long-term relationships—as soon as things got too comfortable, too nice, he cut all ties.

It was a promise he had made himself many years ago.

He lay there, head pounding, listened to her pad out to the kitchen, to the running of the tap, and for once he was torn with indecision.