THE FOLLOWING DAY as they approached the airfield Ava tried to quell the butterflies that flitted around her tummy in a maelstrom of panic. She sneaked a sideways glance at Liam. His gaze was focused on the road and there was no indication of any nerves in his demeanour. For a moment her gaze touched on the firm line of his jaw, the sweep of his nose and the surprising length of his dark eyelashes. For one stupid moment she wondered what it would be like if this were real, and a little shiver ran through her body.
All in all it was a relief to arrive at the airfield. ‘So this is your plane?’ she asked as they approached the craft.
‘It belongs to Rourke Securities. A client has asked for an item to be delivered privately in Europe. My pilot will drop us off en route.’
Soon after, the plane started its ascent and Ava looked around the compact but comfortable area, complete with a small table and soft leather reclining chairs.
In the interest of showing that she was back in control of her nerves she put on her best social expression. ‘So do you own a lot of planes?’
Liam shook his head. ‘Just this one. Sometimes I have clients who want to broker a deal and they figure high up in the air is the best place to do it. Sometimes I have to move a team of people fast and safely and discreetly. Or move cargo. I do try to combine assignments where I can to limit the ecological impact. I need this plane to run my business but I minimise airmiles. If I can transport by land or even sea I do. And the company does support a number of environmental charities.’
Surprise touched her. ‘I didn’t have you down as someone who would care about the environment.’
‘I think we all have to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not giving up air travel, but I figure every little counts.’
‘I agree and I’d really like Dolci to do more. I’d like to use more local suppliers and really look at how much unnecessary plastic we use. Analyse how we can minimise impact to the environment.’
‘Then do it.’
He made it all sound so simple, as if she could wave a magic wand. ‘It’s not that easy.’
‘Why not?’
The slight quirk in his voice goaded her, as if she were all talk and no skirt. ‘For a start I am not in sole charge. My half-siblings have equal shares.’
‘According to press reports they aren’t exactly showing up to work—maybe they wouldn’t object? Have you asked them?’
Ava pressed her lips together—her ‘family’ problems weren’t to be shared. ‘No. They’d probably lawyer up.’ Or simply stonewall her. At the moment Luca Petrovelli would only communicate through lawyers and his standard response was that he couldn’t give an opinion until he came to an agreement with his sister. As for Jodi, she didn’t respond at all, after her initial reply that simply said to refer to her brother. Frustration gnawed Ava’s insides and tensed her muscles and she forced her body to relax. ‘But I did ask my father and he was less than keen. He wanted to do the minimum needed to “look good”, believed profit trumped ethics.’ Even an appeal to his conscience hadn’t worked. He’d listened to her ideas and then he’d vetoed them. Instead he had donated privately to an environmental charity.
‘You don’t still have to do as your father wanted. This is something you clearly feel passionate about. So own it. Make Dolci a forerunner on the environment.’
‘It doesn’t feel right. Dolci was built on the foundations of my dad’s ethos, his drive, his ideas and beliefs. And they worked. I don’t want to go against his wishes and I’d probably be a fool to do so.’
‘But times change and people change. Your father had his vision, now it’s time for yours.’
‘Just like that?’ Her whole life had been spent being the perfect daughter, following her parent’s wishes, or at least ensuring they coincided with her own—she wasn’t sure she knew how to stop. ‘Dolci is his legacy. I can’t trample over that. My vision may send Dolci down the pan. Then that would be my responsibility. My fault.’ Because she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t perfect and would finally be exposed in all her lack of glory. The idea shivered panic-stricken fear through her and she clenched her nails into her palms. Sparked determination—Dolci would not go under, not on her watch. ‘And that isn’t going to happen.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, right now we need to be talking about our fake relationship and how to make it believable.’ In truth she had no idea how this conversation had gone so off-piste.
Liam waited a heartbeat and for a second she thought he’d demur, pursue the topic of Dolci. Then, ‘You’re right. Where should we start?’
‘It’s all about the detail. The only way to spin a fabrication is to make sure it stands up to scrutiny.’ A rule she’d learnt in the cradle or possibly even the womb. After all, Karen had spun the Casseveti story into a fairy tale and that had been no easy task. Somehow she’d managed to completely gloss over James leaving his first family and painted instead the magical romance of a lifetime between the Lady and the entrepreneur. Compared to that this should be a walk in the park. ‘Let’s start with our first meeting.’
‘Three months ago you consulted me on a security issue. Maybe you were worried about industrial sabotage. That makes sense. After your father’s death that would be a legitimate worry, a good time for someone to strike. Then let’s say a few weeks later, when you were no longer my client, I asked you out.’
‘I wouldn’t even have considered dating that close to his death. I was too caught up in grief.’ The soul-shaking realisation that her father was gone for ever combined with the ramifications of his will.
‘It doesn’t work like that. There is something about death that makes the living clutch at life, affirm it, want to live it.’ The depth of his voice told her that he spoke from experience and yet she shook her head in refutation.
‘I wouldn’t have, couldn’t have agreed to a date just a few months later.’
‘I met Jess when my dad was dying—we got married a few weeks after his funeral.’ Impossible to tell what emotions underpinned his factual tone, but his blue eyes shadowed and clouded, reminded her of how much he had lost.
‘I can’t imagine how difficult, how complicated that must have been for you both. But I am glad that you did have Jess, that you had support and love and comfort.’
‘Yes.’ The harshness of his voice shocked her and she saw the shadow cross his face and ravage it. ‘My point is that it is possible to start a relationship even when you are grieving.’
‘Accepted.’ She gestured with her hand, then did a quick calculation. ‘So our first date would have been about two months ago. Where did we go for dinner?’
‘Does it matter? Any random restaurant.’
His voice held impatience, perhaps a leftover from the emotions this conversation must have awoken, but she knew she couldn’t let that go. ‘It does matter and that really wouldn’t work. One of the stock questions we’ll be asked is where was our first date? We’ll look a bit idiotic if we say it was at a “random restaurant”.’
‘OK.’ But she could tell he still thought she was overreacting. ‘Where did we go?’
Ava looked at him between narrowed eyelids. ‘That’s up to you. Where would you have taken me on a first date? If this were real. Really real.’ In the silence that followed she sensed the atmosphere shift. Pictured the meeting in his office, the dawn of attraction, the moment he asked her. ‘Would you have called me? Emailed me? Where would you have taken me?’ This was becoming too real and she needed to move, to walk, to leave this illusion. ‘I’ll pop to the bathroom whilst you come up with an answer.’
Liam watched Ava walk away, knew he only had a few minutes to conjure up a scenario for a hypothetical first date. Chill. He was CEO of a multinational company. He’d been in the army for eight years. How hard could this be? All he had to do was pick a restaurant—an impressive restaurant, not a random one.
He’d narrowed it down to a shortlist by the time she returned. He held out the phone. ‘Take your pick. London’s most exclusive restaurants.’
She glanced down and shook her head. ‘It won’t work. How come no one spotted us? Given someone spotted us on the London Eye. Plus would you really have taken me to a glitzy restaurant when I was grieving?’
Liam sighed. ‘No. You’re right.’
‘It’s all in the detail. That’s what makes a story feel authentic. That’s why you have to really think about it.’
Problem was he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to take Ava on a real first date, a date where the attraction was allowed, in the open, a date where they could flirt and banter and encourage the spark of attraction to ignite into a flare. Because even now Liam could sense the bubbling undercurrent of awareness that seethed between them, urged and tempted, beckoned him to...to where? Nowhere he wanted to go. Liam pressed his lips together. This was a purely hypothetical situation, a business exercise, no different from a military campaign or a security detail for a client.
‘If we couldn’t go to a restaurant maybe I’d have cooked you a meal. With candles.’ That flickered and glinted and highlighted the corn colour of her hair. The strum of music in the background, a chilled bottle of wine on the table. Fresh flowers as a centrepiece. Her hand brushing his as pulled out her chair. Discomfort edged his gut at the sheer realness of the image and it was an effort not to squirm on the aircraft seat. After all, the last woman he had cooked dinner for had been Jess and he’d never felt like this, however hard he’d tried, and he had tried. Had convinced himself that the love would grow, that he could make himself love her. But every ‘romantic’ dinner had been a construct, an attempt to make something out of nothing. And all the candles had illuminated were the awkwardness and falsity.
Pulling himself to the present, he looked at Ava. ‘Would that work?’
‘I’m not sure. It doesn’t ring true. Would you really ask someone to your house on a first date?’ She leaned forward, placed a hand on his arm. ‘This is hard for you, isn’t it?’ Ava said gently. ‘I’m sorry. If you haven’t dated since Jess this must bring back memories.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Give me a minute.’ This was important—this was the way to defeat AJ Mason, salvage his reputation and win the Beaumont contract. Liam forced his brain into gear. ‘How does this sound? A moonlit picnic in Hyde Park. A thick tweed picnic blanket, a hamper from an exclusive emporium, chilled white wine in crystal flutes all under the stars. We sat and talked and looked at the stars and discussed constellations and...’
‘It was magical,’ she said softly.
And for a moment it was; he was there. Could see himself laying the blanket on the grass. Could see them eating, feeding each other bits of food, then lying back and gazing up at the stars, side by side, so close that a tendril of her corn-blonde hair tickled his cheek.
There was a silence and now their gazes meshed and, dammit, instead of the neutral air of the cabin he could feel the fresh evening breeze, smell the scent of evening flowers almost taste the food. ‘Detail is important,’ he said. Aware of the husk in his voice.
‘Yes.’
Did we kiss? The words so nearly fell from his lips and he swallowed them down just as Ava gave a small shaky laugh.
‘Actually detail is important and that scenario won’t work. Because two months ago it would have been December.’
Liam groaned. ‘Dammit. I thought I had it down perfectly.’
‘You did.’ Her voice was soft. ‘But it’s back to the drawing board.’
‘Not for long.’ To his own consternation he already had the exact answer, his mind inexplicably now fizzing with dating ideas. ‘This is it.’
‘Go ahead.’ Her eyes were wide now, her lips slightly parted.
‘I would take you in a horse-drawn carriage through the park. We’d have a cosy blanket and sit side by side. There would be mince pies and mulled wine and we’d hear the clip clop of the horses’ hooves...’
‘And the jingle of the sleigh bells and smell the tang of snow in the air and watch the winter scenery go by whilst we talked and...’
Did we kiss? Again he swallowed the words, saying instead, ‘Does that work?’
‘Yes.’ Why did he have the feeling Ava had answered his unspoken question? Enough. Stop. Relief swept through him as the pilot’s voice came over the Tannoy. ‘We’ll be landing in ten, Liam.’
Ava’s head whirled as they disembarked from the plane and it had nothing to do with the dusky Italian breeze and everything to do with whatever the hell had just happened. For a moment she’d been sure he’d kiss her; hell, for a moment she’d wanted him to kiss her. Had been so caught up in the imaginary magical moment that a real spell had been cast.
The breeze was welcome, and with any luck it would blow her mind back to order. Liam headed towards a car. ‘Pierre is going to give us a lift. He is Elena the housekeeper’s husband.’
The idea of a chaperone allowed her to gather a polite, friendly persona together for the ten-minute journey. As she chatted to the middle-aged flamboyant Frenchman the tension seeped from her shoulders.
‘I miss my country,’ the grizzled man said. ‘But I know my Elena could not move from her home, her family, this beautiful place, and so I have adapted. That is the power of love.’
His declaration brought a smile to her face even as she marvelled at them. A sudden pang of envy touched her for what this man and his wife had. Even as she knew it wasn’t for her. She did believe in the power of love and she’d seen how destructive that power could be. Seen her mother’s love for her father send her to the verge of brittle breakdown. Karen Casseveti’s whole life had been defined by her love to the exclusion of all else. Her fear of losing her husband had dictated her every move, even down to the decision to have a baby. And once she had Ava she had seen her as an asset in her quest. As Ava had grown up she had seen the fear in her mother’s perfectly made-up eyes as her gaze tracked her husband across a room.
A justified fear because she had known how precarious her position was. Known that James had loved his first family and yet that love too had been destroyed, defeated by the power of ambition and the lure of wealth. James had needed Lady Karen Hales’s money and connections to start Dolci and so he’d deserted his first wife and family.
So, yes, love was definitely a powerful force, but like any force it could cause pain.
The car glided to a stop and Ava blinked back to the present as she took in her surroundings. The whitewashed stone-walled building took picturesque to new levels of meaning. Iron balconies fronted the first floor and pretty trees lined the pavement outside.
Inside the rustic wood-panelled front door an elegant grey-haired woman bustled towards them, a welcoming smile on her face. ‘Buona sera, Liam. It is good to see you again.’
Liam stooped to kiss the woman on both cheeks. ‘You too, Elena. How are the children? How is the latest addition?’ He turned to Ava. ‘Elena welcomed her fourth grandchild into the world two months ago.’
Ava smiled and stepped forward. ‘Congratulations. I’m Ava.’
‘Welcome, Ava. And thank you. Arianna is gorgeous, my first granddaughter and she is beautiful. Now to business. I have prepared food, done the shopping and stocked the bar and freezer. The beds are made up. If there is anything you need, call me. Or Pierre.’ She smiled at Ava. ‘This is my number. Please feel free to contact me as well. I live nearby. I can come any time.’
‘Thank you, Elena. I’ll input that now.’
‘Then I will leave you to it. Unless you wish for me to wait and serve the food.’
‘No need.’ Liam paused and looked across at Ava. ‘Unless you would prefer it.’
For a craven moment she wanted to say yes, didn’t want to be left alone with Liam in this cosy, intimate setting to share a meal, just the two of them. Ridiculous. This was a working dinner and she and Liam had a lot of ground to cover and the whole point was for them to get comfortable around each other. Alone.
‘No, I’m good, and thank you, Elena. The food smells incredible.’
Now Elena beamed. ‘Thank you. I have made focaccia barese and orecchiette con cime di rapa. And a salad to accompany it. The dessert is my speciality—I will let that be a surprise. I will bring fresh breakfast pastries and bread in the morning.’
With that Elena left and Ava forced a smile to her face. ‘So,’ she said brightly. ‘If it’s OK with you I’ll freshen up and unpack and then we can reconvene our discussion.’
‘Sounds good.’ He pointed. ‘The kitchen is through there. I’ll meet you down here in half an hour.’
Thirty minutes of reprieve and she needed every single one.