Italian Escape with the CEO Read online

  ‘Hi,’ he managed and for that fleeting instant they both simply stood and then she stepped back. ‘Come on up.’

  Through a marbled lobby, walls decorated with glittering photographs of Casseveti success. James shaking hands with a renowned global businessman, Ava in a photo shoot to promote Dolci products... Liam absorbed it all, ensured he kept his stance relaxed during the trip in a state-of-the-art elevator, a walk through a now empty open-plan work area, dotted with desks and equipment and then they entered a spacious meeting room. A large oval glass-topped table graced the centre, a tray with coffee, tea and biscuits had been set out, a whiteboard was ready at the front. The perfect setting for a business brainstorming session.

  Liam placed his briefcase on the table. ‘I think the best way is to sit down and swap some basic facts, the sort of information that it would be natural for us to have.’

  Ava sat down and opened a leather-bound folder. ‘Agreed. I’ve prepared a CV but with some extra personal information. Like how I like my tea.’

  ‘I did a fact sheet. Though I have to admit I didn’t include my tea preference. Good call.’ That was the exact detail they would be expected to know. ‘I take mine strong with just a hint of milk.’ Ava already had a pen in hand and was jotting the information down, and for a moment he caught a glimpse of the column of her neck as she bent over the table.

  For an overlong instant his gaze was caught and a pang shot through him, one he damped down immediately. ‘Let’s read each other’s information and then try and learn it. We can test each other later.’

  She nodded agreement and pushed her CV across the table. He noted that her nails were a different colour from the previous day and for a moment he wondered how hard it must be to coordinate her outfits so well. Wondered if attention to nails would feature on her fact list.

  He watched her as she studied his piece of paper, the small fierce crease of concentration, the way she pressed her lips together. Dammit, now he’d snagged on those lips his gaze lingered for a moment and he quickly turned his attention to the paper on the table. Started to commit the facts to memory: her birthday, names of her schools, private education, top grades, various dance awards, excellent university, and then her two-year stint in the modelling world.

  Then she’d quit modelling and gone into the family firm, where she’d held roles in different departments until her father’s death six months ago. Never owned a pet, enjoyed dancing, fashion and shoes. As he came to the end of the sheet he looked back up at her and caught her studying him.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I think I’m getting the facts. I know your birthday, where you were born and a bit about your family. Your mum is called Bea, your stepdad is called John and his son is called Max and he is fourteen.’ She stopped and he was aware he’d flinched as more memories cascaded in.

  Two years after Bea decided to stay with her husband, John had married someone else, and Liam could still remember his mother’s grief when she’d found out. He’d seen the anguish in her grey eyes, heard the sound of muted tears in the night, seen her feet drag and heard her voice snap. It had only been then that he’d begun to understand what his mother had sacrificed for him and he hadn’t known how to handle that.

  So he’d renewed his efforts to make his dad better, make him reform, make his parents be happy again. To no avail. So in the end at eighteen he’d done what he’d thought was right. He’d joined the army. He’d known that once he had a new ‘home’ and independence his mother would be able to leave. Finally accepted too that his father was not going to change.

  Then Bea had reconnected with John, by then divorced and the father of a three-year-old son, Max. Bea and John got married and Liam was happy for them. But he knew that he had thwarted their chance of an earlier life together, a chance to have children of their own. And that created an awkwardness and a discomfort and so he stayed clear as much as he could, wanted to allow his mum a second chance to have a happy family life.

  But he’d put none of the detail on his fact sheet. All Ava needed were facts, not the grim story that shadowed them. Facts were important.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Ava nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about this. Are you going to tell your mum the truth about us?’

  ‘No. The fewer people who know, the better. The best way to keep a secret is to make sure it is a secret.’

  ‘I get that but she is hardly going to be happy that her son is dating a Casseveti. I’ll need to meet her during this charade and that will be awkward, to say the least. So why put her through it? Surely you can trust her to keep the secret?’

  ‘It’s not just my mum. It’s John and Max as well. It doesn’t seem fair to ask her to keep it secret from them. And Max is only fourteen. It seems even more unfair to ask him to keep a secret like that or to lie for us. I won’t ask her or her family to do that.’ Wouldn’t complicate her life or upset her family dynamic in any way.

  ‘That is a fair point. But—’

  ‘It does make it extra hard on you. I’m sorry. I’ll shield you as best I can when we meet her. And we’ll keep it brief.’ That would hardly be a surprise to any of them. Liam kept his visits short and polite. ‘And whilst my mum will have some negative feelings, she knows you aren’t to blame for your father’s actions.’

  Ava hesitated and then shrugged. ‘OK. This is your show. Could you arrange for us to meet them once we have figured out our act properly. Before we go public?’

  ‘Sure. And what about your mum?’

  ‘We will have to tell my mother the truth. She knows who you are and about my father’s request.’

  ‘Will she keep it secret?’

  ‘Yes. My mum is the Queen of Spin. She will see that our relationship can be spun to Dolci’s advantage. She won’t mess with that.’ Ava gave a decisive nod and glanced down at her printed agenda, then up at her computer screen, tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. This must be exactly how she looked in a business meeting.

  She looked up. ‘Right, next on the agenda—we need to get our story straight. Get our facts lined up in a row.’

  She rose to her feet and headed towards the whiteboard. ‘I thought we could plot out a timeline, work out some plot points. Then I’ll type it up.’

  ‘Sure. Good plan.’ And it was...yet something wasn’t right with the current scenario. Sure, they now knew more about each other but...

  Moving along a few seats, he watched the unconscious grace with which she moved. As she reached for the pen, again her nail colour caught his eye, the pale pink a perfect complement to the grey of her suit, the crisp businesslike white of her shirt. Her lips a perfect match. Liam frowned, tried to home in on what his instinct was trying to tell him.

  Knew it was not that he had a nail fetish.

  ‘Right,’ Ava said. ‘I’ve thought about this and it’s really important we figure out when our “relationship”—she made quote marks in the air —started. The times have to add up and stand up to scrutiny. We can’t say we were having a romantic dinner at The Ritz if that’s the day they were closed for renovations.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Good. So...’ She broke off. ‘Are you listening?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I am, and you’re right. All that is important but...’ He hesitated. ‘We’re doing this all wrong.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  He wasn’t sure he did either, but he trusted his instincts and this was too important to ignore them. ‘You are right to say that this will only work if we can pull it off, and to do that we need all these facts. But this isn’t the way to collate them.’

  ‘Why not?’

  He started to pace. ‘Because this is how we’d conduct a work meeting. And whilst this is a business arrangement, the fake relationship isn’t a business one. If we spend hours in a boardroom we may come up with a good theoretical plan and a list of facts a
bout each other but that won’t help us be authentic. Because there’s lots of information that we won’t have included. For example, you didn’t mention how much effort you put into your appearance. It must take time to change the colour of your nails on such a regular basis.’

  Ava frowned. ‘It didn’t even occur to me to mention my nails.’

  ‘Exactly. That’s the sort of thing that takes time and being together for real.’

  ‘But are my nails really that important?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I do know if you send an undercover agent in somewhere you send someone who knows the territory, understands the language and the community. I don’t know about you but I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. It’s unfamiliar terrain.’ And one he’d completely destroyed in his marriage.

  ‘So you think we need some hands-on practice rather than studying the theory.’ Her eyes widened and heat crept up her cheekbones. ‘That came out all wrong. I didn’t mean literal hands-on practice...’ She raised her hands to touch her cheeks. ‘Now I am making this worse.’

  He couldn’t help the smile that tugged his lips, even as desire sparked in his gut. ‘I know what you meant. We can come up with the best story in the world, learn all these facts, but a play is only as good as the actors.’

  ‘And we aren’t actors.’

  ‘Exactly, so we have to maximise our chances of managing to fake this. I think we need to get more...comfortable round each other, and that means spending time together outside a boardroom.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’

  ‘Let’s go on a date. Right now. A trip on the London Eye. We provided security at an event there recently and we were given a season pass for Rourke Securities employees. I’m pretty sure I can get us an upgrade. We can discuss a timeline, whilst looking out over London in a private pod.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit risky? I don’t think we are exactly ready to launch.’

  ‘I get that.’ Liam shrugged. ‘But it’s not as though we need to speak to anyone or give an interview. It will give us “relationship experience” and add evidence to our dating history.’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Give me five minutes to make a couple of calls.’

  Fifteen minutes later they were on their way, in the back of a chauffeur-driven car. Ava glanced sideways at him, ridiculously aware of his proximity. She’d watched him as he’d made this happen, the mix of crisp efficiency and charm that had secured them the private pod, and his sheer dynamism had sparked a frisson. Now her hormones were having difficulties mastering the concept of a fake date. But she had them on a tight leash, was sat squashed against the window, as far from him as it was possible to be. Hell, if anyone opened the door she’d tumble out. And Liam was no better. Yet the idea of moving across seemed way too fraught and relief swathed through her as the car glided to a stop.

  They climbed out to walk the remainder of the way, the cool London evening breeze a welcome hit as they made their way towards the huge lit-up wheel. She tried to walk a little closer to him to get in character as their breath wisped white on the brisk February air.

  Once there, a friendly member of staff approached and conferred with Liam, who then turned to Ava. ‘Usually the pod comes with a host. Are you happy to sign a waiver to say you’re OK without one?’

  ‘Of course.’ Minutes later they were standing in the pod, glass of champagne in hand.

  ‘Are they really OK letting us on without a host?’

  ‘Sure. I’ve said that we’ll treat it as a test of their security and health and safety measures. Lots of people would rather not have a host so we’re testing it for them. Last thing we need is to be observed close up.’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Ava looked out over the London night sky as the wheel began to move, so slowly it felt almost like magic, as if they were lifted by gossamer threads. ‘It’s beautiful by night. I came here in the day with a couple of colleagues once but this is completely different. All the landmarks look like a fairy tale.’ Come to that, this all felt like a fairy tale. And it had nothing to do with the lights or the champagne and everything to do with Liam’s presence. He was right. This was completely different from the boardroom, but she still wasn’t at all sure it was in a good way. Or perhaps it was too good. Because here if she moved ever so slightly she’d be right next to him, would be able to feel the solid press of his muscular thigh against her leg, would be able to inhale the tang of expensive soap, study the way his hair curled over his ear and...

  Time to talk, time to find poised, aristocratic, socially adept Ava, and she wrenched her gaze to the London landscape. ‘It’s amazing, really—I mean, who designed it? A glorified Ferris wheel that has become one of the main tourist attractions in London.’

  ‘It was built by a husband and wife team. And it’s about one hundred and thirty-five metres tall with a diameter of one hundred and twenty metres. The pods weigh ten tonnes and—’ Five minutes later he broke off and ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Jeez. Sorry. I didn’t even know I knew all of that.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ She was pretty sure Liam was as on edge as she was. ‘You made all those facts interesting.’ Seeing his eyebrows rise in clear disbelief, she smiled. ‘Honestly. You did. You’d make a great tour guide.’

  He gave a mock groan. ‘And a terrible date.’

  ‘Nope.’ She shook her head. ‘Actually...it’s kind of sweet.’

  ‘Sweet?’ His tone mixed incredulity and distaste and she laughed.

  ‘Yup. And it proves your point. Being here made those facts personal...and that is the best way to get to know each other. But it’s also a bit...strange. Because it’s a date that’s not a date.’

  ‘And we aren’t natural around each other.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Yet.’

  ‘Maybe it will just take time. A few more dates like this. Sitting in a car together...’

  ‘And not squashing ourselves up against the doors,’ he said and now they smiled at each other.

  ‘Exactly. Maybe a week or so—we could walk round parks, hang out...get a bit more used to each other. I mean, we barely know each other, and our history makes it even more complicated. It’s hard to base a relationship on—’ She broke off as instinct prickled the back of her neck.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. Just keep talking. But I think we’ve been spotted.’ Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she saw someone point at their pod, camera in hand. ‘We have been spotted.’ Her mind went into overdrive; on automatic she appraised the scene. Champagne, private pod, the whole thing shrieked of date night. This was the perfect set-up for a launch of their relationship; discovered by accident, it would reek of authenticity.

  Instinct took over and, leaning over, she kissed him. Her intent had been a simple, quick, featherlight brush of the lips but she hadn’t bargained for her body’s reaction. Or his. Because it wasn’t enough—the sheer giddy sensation whirled her head. After a first startled second where he froze, he turned his body, raised his hands and cupped her face; the firm, cool grasp made her catch her breath.

  Then he deepened the kiss, slowly, languorously, as if they had all the time in the world, and Ava forgot where she was, forgot everything except this heady moment in time where nothing mattered except the sweet sensations that glided through her whole body. Then all too soon it was over, the wheel literally stopped turning and Ava realised they were near the top.

  As she pulled away she caught sight of his expression, knew it mirrored her own. Shell shock, surprise. All wrong, screamed the one bit of her brain that was still in gear. Pull this together. Seamlessly she pulled a smile to her lips and whispered, ‘Don’t look surprised.’ Knew that a photo like that splashed on social media would give away too much.

  To her relief Liam got it instantly, leant forward to hide his expression, looked as though he were whispering sweet nothings
in her ear, and then he moved away to pick up the champagne bottle to top up their glasses, a smile of sorts on his lips.

  Ava focused on breathing, sipped the champagne, wished it were the bubbles that were swirling her head rather than the aftermath of the kiss. ‘Sorry. I reacted on instinct—I saw an opportunity to make this look real and I took it without thinking.’

  ‘There’s no need to apologise—you took me by surprise, that’s all.’ With an obvious effort he cleared his throat, brought his voice to a normal tone. ‘What do you think will happen now?’

  Ava shrugged. ‘It’s hard to know. It could be absolutely nothing, it could be the photo goes viral on social media. My feeling is it will land somewhere in between. There will be a buzz of interest because of who I am and it may or may not pick up.’

  Liam rubbed the back of his neck, gave her a rueful smile. ‘Sorry. You were right earlier. This was a bad idea. If interest is piqued we aren’t ready yet.’

  ‘No.’ But it was impossible to feel irritation with a man who was willing to admit fault.

  ‘Hmm...’ She could almost see his brain go into overdrive. ‘I’ve got an idea. Let’s go back to my place—I need to make some calls.’

  * * *

  Forty-five minutes later the car came to a smooth stop and the driver opened the door. Ava smiled her thanks as she climbed out and looked around her at the large Edwardian London house.

  She followed him through the front door and down a spacious hallway. ‘‘The lounge is through here. Drink?’ he asked.

  ‘A cup of tea would be perfect.’

  ‘Coming up. Milk, one sugar, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  He left the room and she took the opportunity to look around. The room was functional and comfortable with clean lines and colours. Yet it could be a show room—there were no photographs or anything out of place or cluttered. Sitting down on a luxuriously comfortable arm chair she wondered where Liam was. Perhaps the kitchen was miles away or the kettle had broken or he’d run out of tea bags.