Читать книгу The Correttis (Books 1-8) - Эбби Грин, Кейт Хьюит - Страница 34

LUCA DREW UP in a no-parking zone in front of the pretty waterside restaurant.

‘You can’t park here.’ Taylor turned her head, the sun glinting on her sleek, shiny hair. She’d twisted it skilfully into an elaborate confection on the back of her head and fastened it with a jewelled pin that made her look very much the movie star. ‘It says no parking.’

‘Do you always obey rules?’ The artist in Luca admired the perfect lines of her jaw and cheekbones, those beautiful cat-like eyes and the hint of a pout on that kissable mouth. ‘That dress looks good on you.’

‘I know. That’s why I picked it.’ Her cool, confident response threw him.

Raised by a woman who had needed constant reassurance and working in an industry defined by its dedication to narcissism, he was conditioned to offer praise and reassurance. These days it fell from his lips unprompted, but Taylor appeared to have no need for his approval. Presented with a choice of dresses, she’d selected one instantly, without hesitation or consultation. The only help she’d needed from him was fastening the zip.

‘Of course you’d look better out of that dress.’

‘I try not to trigger horrible headlines.’

‘Really? I try and trigger horrible headlines on a daily basis. If I don’t read at least one bad thing about myself every day I take a long look at my behaviour and try harder to be shocking.’

Her response to that was to roll her eyes but he could see she was holding back laughter and he hid his own smile because he didn’t want her to know she made him laugh.

She held everything back, he thought, remembering the way she’d tried to resist the explosive chemistry in the maze. Always up for a challenge, he wondered how hard he’d have to push before that control cracked.

She glanced towards the restaurant. ‘Isn’t this place a bit obvious? I would have chosen somewhere more discreet. That would have been my normal behaviour.’

‘But not mine, dolcezza.’ He flipped her chin gently with the tip of his finger. ‘You’re with me and I refuse to slink around like a criminal. You’re living by my list now and your idea of forbidden is my idea of compulsory. Get used to it.’

‘If we’re a couple then my list is as important and valid as yours.’

‘Not if it contains things like “don’t speed” and “never park in a no-parking zone.” The idea of marriage isn’t to die of boredom.’ Reaching across, he unfastened her seat belt, the backs of his fingers brushing against the softness of her breasts as he released the strap. The punch of desire was so powerful he sucked in a breath at the exact moment Taylor flattened herself to the seat.

‘Hey, don’t push your luck.’

‘We’re engaged. That means my luck ran out a long time ago. And what is the point of an engagement if you can’t touch? Or is it simply to leave an enormous hole in a guy’s bank account and set one lucky jeweller up for early retirement?’ Gripped by a flash of instantaneous lust, Luca found himself looking at her mouth and that mouth was so smooth, so feminine, it seemed like a terrible waste not to just go ahead and kiss it. Never one to deny himself, he did just that.

Fire and flame licked around the edges of his nerve endings. Within seconds he was rock hard. What had started as exploration shifted to something so primal and basic that he forgot everything except the urge to strip her naked and get his hands on her glorious body. He wanted to drive into her and watch all those restrictions she placed on herself unravel.

His tongue was in her mouth, tangling with hers, when she shoved at his chest.

‘This is an engagement, not a one-night stand. You don’t have to cram the entire relationship into six hours.’ She was out of the car so quickly she almost stumbled and Luca stared after her for a moment, his mind temporarily wiped. She was as jumpy as a kangaroo on a trampoline and yet she was the one who had lectured him on playing his part properly. How the hell was he expected to play his part when she was running away from him? He didn’t claim to be an expert on being engaged but was willing to bet sprinting in the opposite direction during a kiss counted as less than convincing behaviour.

He chose to ignore the tiny part of his brain that was telling him the kiss had nothing to do with role play.

Infuriated that she wasn’t putting more effort into it, he sprang from the car. ‘Taylor!’ Aware someone might be listening, he clenched his jaw and forced himself back into fiancé mode. It was as ill-fitting as a secondhand suit. ‘Mi amore—’ He’d never said those words to anyone before and even knowing that they weren’t genuine didn’t make it any easier. ‘Where are you going?’

There was a brief pause and then she spun on her heel and gave him an easy smile that probably seemed genuine to all but him. ‘I was leaving you to park the car.’

He sensed her tension but didn’t understand it. Hell, he was breaking his neck here to act like the devoted fiancé. ‘It’s parked.’

‘You call that parked?’ One eyebrow raised, she looked at the Ferrari. ‘You can’t seriously intend to leave it there.’

‘They’re lucky I choose to park my car outside their restaurant. People will pause, admire it and then want to dine in their restaurant to catch a glimpse of the man who owns such a cool car.’

‘Or the woman.’

‘This is a man’s car, tesoro.’

‘So defined by the idiot driving it?’ Those beautiful green eyes narrowed in challenge and he was pleased to have broken through that seemingly impenetrable wall of control.

He decided to push a little harder. ‘There is no way you’d be able to drive it. This baby has a six-point-three-litre V-12 engine with four valves per cylinder—’ he glanced lovingly at the car ‘—and it hovers on the borders of legal. It can shift from car to beast in less than four seconds.’

‘A bit like its owner.’ Without waiting for him she strolled into the restaurant, those long bare legs drawing more admiring glances than the Ferrari.

She looked good and she knew it. He was fast discovering there was no greater aphrodisiac than a woman aware of her own appeal.

His own gaze fixed on those legs, Luca tried to cool the heat burning inside him and decided she and the car had more in common than she ever would have admitted. Both were high maintenance and both were eye-catching.

As he caught up with her he took her hand in his.

Her eyes widened. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Playing the part of your devoted lover,’ he drawled softly, ‘only my leading lady appears to have forgotten her lines. If I have to be engaged, then at least let it be to the woman who yesterday had her legs wrapped round me in the maze. Don’t give me this bland, vanilla version.’

She blinked. Frowned slightly. ‘This is who I am.’

‘If I thought that for a moment this engagement would be off. I’d die of boredom before we hit our first anniversary and you’d burst from suppressing all that emotion.’

‘Signor Corretti!’ A man approached them and Luca felt Taylor tug at her hand, trying to free herself.

He tightened his grip and greeted the owner in Italian. ‘I need a table.’

‘Somewhere private?’

Distracted by Taylor’s glossy lips, Luca lost concentration. ‘Of course.’

‘No, not private.’ Taylor flashed her eyes, trying to transmit a message, but he was too busy deciding if those eyes were green or blue to translate the unspoken communication.

‘I don’t want an audience.’

‘But I do.’ She slid her arms around his neck and gave him a feline smile. ‘Don’t you want to show off our love to the world, honey?’

Luca, who had never been called ‘honey’ in his life, remembered belatedly that the purpose of being here was to be seen. ‘You’re an exhibitionist, angelo mia.’

‘Says the man who just parked a red Ferrari in a no-parking zone.’ Laughing, she trailed a purple fingernail across his cheek and he turned his head and caught her finger gently in his teeth.

Clearing his throat subtly, the owner of the restaurant beamed at them. ‘I have a table by the water. So romantic and, on that topic, may I offer our congratulations. We are all delighted by your news.’

Determined to demonstrate that he could play his part as well as her and remembering what she’d said about conjuring up the emotions from deep inside her, Luca tried to imagine how it would feel to be engaged. Deciding that ‘freaked out’ wasn’t going to help his performance, he swiftly ditched that advice and instead thought about the article he’d read. ‘I am happy, excited and can’t bear to be parted from her even for a moment.’

Smiling at an astonished Giovanni, Taylor urged Luca towards a prime table situated at the edge of the water. ‘Your performance was terrible,’ she hissed in an undertone. ‘You should have let me give you acting lessons.’

‘I don’t need acting lessons.’

‘You sounded as if you were reading from an autocue.’

‘An autocue might be a good idea. I’m definitely not fluent in the language of love.’ Luca sat down at the table and ordered champagne.

‘Yes, about that.’ She paused as the waiter fussed around them, waiting until they were on their own to finish her sentence. ‘From now on, I don’t want you to touch me.’

‘Scusi? Are we or are we not supposed to be engaged?’

‘We are, but I’m not into public displays of affection.’ She kept her eyes down, adjusting her cutlery while Luca stared at her in disbelief.

‘I’m Sicilian. We’re an emotional, physical race.’

‘Then hold it in.’ Her eyes lifted to his and he saw something there he didn’t expect to see.

Panic?

For a moment he was baffled by it, then he remembered the way she’d responded to him in the maze. ‘Ah—now I understand. Enjoying sex is on your forbidden list too, and you are finding it hard to resist me, no?’

‘No.’ She answered just a little too quickly and then covered her glass to stop the waiter pouring champagne. ‘Just water, please.’

Luca rolled his eyes and removed her glass, handing it to the waiter. ‘Fill it up. She needs help to relax.’

‘I do not need help to relax. I’m already relaxed.’ He waited for the waiter to leave them alone. ‘I’ve seen steel cables more relaxed than you. You’re such a sexual woman, and you hate that about yourself, don’t you? You’re trying to lock that part of yourself away and pretend to be something you’re not.’

‘I do eat. I drink if I want to, and our relationship is not about sex so that’s irrelevant.’

‘Let’s hope no one was lip-reading when you said that.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Trust me, if we’re engaged, there’s going to be food and champagne and, most of all, sex. Lots of hot, steamy, very dirty sex so if you want this to appear genuine you’d better stop suppressing that side of yourself.’

Her cheeks turned pink as the waiter approached with her water.

‘Thank you so much.’ She gave a smile that turned the poor man into a gibbering wreck and Luca gave an amused smile.

‘You’re all promise and no follow-through.’

‘I can follow through when it suits me.’

‘And when is that? When you explode from holding it all in?’

Her fingers tightened on her glass. ‘I’m not holding anything in.’

‘You are suppressing so much, dolcezza, that when you finally blow the aftershocks are going to be felt back in your homeland. Don’t worry. I’ll be there to drag you from the rubble.’

She smiled. ‘Do you think about anything but sex?’

‘You’re upset that I understand you so well.’

‘You don’t understand me at all.’

‘No? Let’s do a Taylor Carmichael 101.’ He put his glass down and leaned forward in his chair. ‘You long to let yourself go. I saw the way you reacted to my car in the first few minutes before you remembered you weren’t supposed to enjoy fast cars. You long to drink champagne, but you daren’t in case you drink a bit too much and lose control.’

‘Is that the best you can do?’

‘I haven’t finished. You can’t go anywhere without first looking to see where the photographers are hidden. You know they’re part of the job but for some reason they make you nervous.’

She reached out slender fingers and took an olive. ‘Are you done?’

‘Not yet.’ It was only because he was looking that he saw her fingers shake slightly. ‘You don’t trust anyone any more. You’ve locked yourself away. You won’t tell me why so I’m guessing it’s something you’re ashamed of. Something you regret.’ He watched as the colour drained from her cheeks.

Her breathing grew shallow and she looked away quickly. ‘You talk nonsense.’

‘I scored a direct hit,’ Luca said softly. ‘Now drink some champagne or the headlines tomorrow will be that you’re already pregnant and that’s the reason we’re marrying. Neither of us wants that.’

After a moment’s hesitation she picked up the slender champagne glass. ‘To our future.’

‘To lots of legal sex.’ He glanced up as the waiter approached. ‘Don’t bother giving my beloved a menu, Pietro, I’ll order for both of us. It will be a good test of how well I know her.’

To give her credit, Taylor kept her smile in place. ‘But, sweetheart, you know I like to order for myself.’

‘I know you do, my little cabbage, but I’m a macho Sicilian male and apart from that inherent trait that drives me to protect you from all things including menus written only in Italian, I’m suspicious of your ordering skills. You’ll order the wrong thing.’

‘I order what I want to eat, light of my life.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘How can that be wrong?’

‘You order what you think you’re supposed to eat, kitten paws. That’s not the same thing at all. A romantic meal out is about feeding the senses.’ Enjoying himself, he watched her across the flickering flame of the candle, wishing they were alone so that they could laugh properly and enjoy their food without the audience. ‘I refuse to order you a lettuce leaf. It would be criminal.’ He proceeded to order in Italian while Taylor drummed long, manicured fingernails on the tablecloth.

Only once the waiter had left, did she speak. ‘I can’t believe you ordered for me. Dare I ask which unusual part of the anatomy I’m likely to find myself eating this time?’

Sending her a wicked look that brought colour to her cheeks, Luca raised his glass. ‘To us! I’m much better at this than you are, by the way. If you like, I can arrange for you to have acting lessons.’

There was a brief pause and then she put her napkin down slowly. ‘There’s something I have to say to you, Luca, and perhaps this isn’t the place but I need to say it so badly… .’ It was a voice he hadn’t heard her use before. Soft, sultry and so richly feminine that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. She reached across the table and took his hands in hers. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. I’d given up on love. And then I met you and—and I didn’t expect…’ Her voice faltered and she looked puzzled, almost humbled.

The vulnerability on her face shocked him.

He knew she was acting, but the emotion in her eyes was so genuine he felt an involuntary flicker of panic. She was giving him ‘The Look’ and The Look was something he’d avoided all his life. He made a point of ending relationships before The Look was even a tiny germ in a woman’s brain.

He tried to respond but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Her face was soft, transformed by love. ‘I never thought this would happen. I never thought it was possible to feel love like this and then I met you and—’ her breathing was fractured ‘—and you’re everything to me. That’s what I wanted to say. I love you. I’ve never said those words to a man before but I’m saying them now. I’m trusting you with my heart.’ The look in her eyes was so adoring his muscles clenched in terror. She was so convincing he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that crept up his spine.

‘Cristo, Taylor, you’re giving me chills.’

As the waiter murmured something incoherent and melted away, the soft look in her eyes morphed into something harder and more brittle. ‘Don’t ever call me “kitten paws” again and don’t tell me I need acting lessons or the next thing you’ll be eating between two slices of bread will be a certain supersensitive part of your anatomy.’ As Luca shuddered, another waiter placed food in front of them and Taylor gave an appreciative sniff. ‘Mmm. I can see wedded bliss is going to do nothing for my waistline.’

‘Eat, tesoro. You can go back on your stupid starvation diet tomorrow.’

‘I might not need to if the director can’t be replaced.’

To another man her insecurity might not have been visible beneath the layers of polish and poise, but Luca had been raised by a woman whose insecurities had been welded into her skin.

Of course you’re beautiful, Mama. Of course he loves you. The other women don’t mean anything.

Unsettled by the emergence of that unwanted memory, he drained his glass and allowed it to be filled again. Why was he thinking about that now when he hadn’t thought about it for years? ‘He’ll be replaced.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I know my cousin. He has many faults, but failing isn’t one of them. He’s too competitive. Now stop worrying.’

‘Aren’t you worried about your brother?’

Luca shrugged. ‘Why would I be worried?’

‘He ran off with your cousin’s bride-to-be!’

‘That’s his problem, not mine. Now try this—it’s delicious.’ He spooned caponata onto her plate and watched as she dissected it with her fork. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking for its spleen.’

‘It’s vegetable, dolcezza. Vegetables don’t have spleens.’

‘This dish is vegetarian? You promise?’ Cautiously she tasted a small amount and moaned. ‘It’s delicious.’

He watched as her eyes closed and she savoured the flavours. Her tongue licked at a tiny drop of oil on her lips. She was the most sensual woman he’d met and yet she suppressed it ruthlessly. ‘Locally grown food and good olive oil. It doesn’t come any better.’

‘I don’t want to know that it’s cooked in oil. So are all Sicilian kids raised on this? Did your mother make this for you when you were small?’

Mention of his mother wiped his own appetite coming after his own thoughts on that topic. ‘No. My mother wasn’t the hearth and home type. She had other priorities.’ He reached for his glass and changed the subject. ‘Did yours cook for you?’

‘No. My mother wasn’t the hearth and home type either.’ The poise didn’t slip, but he heard something in her voice. The same dark undertones that coloured his own.

Her too?

They had more in common than either of them could have imagined.

‘So what type was she?’ He surprised himself by asking the question because normally he had no interest in delving beneath the surface of the person he was with and maybe he surprised her too, because she didn’t answer immediately.

‘The ambitious type. She had big plans for me.’

‘She didn’t want you to be an actress?’

‘It was all she wanted.’ She kept her eyes down so that all he could see was the dark fan of her lashes as she concentrated on her food. ‘She was determined I would achieve what she hadn’t and determined I would be the one to save the family fortunes. She was a single parent and money was tight. When I was a newborn she signed me up for work. I appeared in a daytime soap as someone’s baby, then I played toddlers and so it went on. I worked right through my childhood. I didn’t go to school—I had tutors on the set.’

‘And you hated it?’

‘No.’ she stabbed her knife through a piece of asparagus. ‘I was living every kid’s dream.’

‘Is that what she told you?’

Her eyes lifted to his and just for a moment he saw a little girl, lost and friendless. Then the look was gone. ‘I had the most amazing experiences. I’ve travelled to places most people only dream about. Our house was always full of famous people.’

‘So if it was so fantastic why did you fire her?’

Her face was white, her fingers shaking as she reached for her champagne. ‘She was my manager and I decided she didn’t have my best interests at heart.’

She was back in control, her insecurities masked by the poised smile she’d perfected. It was as if that unguarded moment had never happened.

‘What about your father?’

‘My father played no part in my life until he sold his story to the press when I was seventeen.’ Lifting her glass, she took a sip. ‘Are we done talking about me? Because the journalists outside the restaurant are beginning to create an obstruction. It isn’t fair on the other diners. They have a right to eat their meal in peace. We should probably skip dessert and leave.’

Luca turned his head and felt a flash of shock as he registered the size of the press pack. ‘Cristo, is it always like this?’

‘No. Sometimes it’s really bad. Today is a quiet day.’ Calm, she rose to her feet. ‘Shall we go?’

Taylor walked through the tables, acknowledging greetings with a polite smile, hiding her dismay at the number of journalists hovering in wait.

Maybe it was tiredness, maybe it was vulnerability caused by the fact that he’d forced her to talk about things she didn’t normally talk about. Maybe it was worry about the film part, but suddenly her control slipped and she stopped dead.

Luca took her hand. ‘Ready? We need to look like two people in love as we walk out of this restaurant.’

‘I hate them.’ She blurted the words out before she could stop herself and he turned with a frown on his face. ‘I can’t face them.’

‘Taylor—’

‘They’re like hunters, looking for weakness. When they find it they savage you.’

And they’d find hers.

It was only a matter of time before they exposed the one thing she dreaded them exposing. The threat of it had hung over her for so long she could no longer remember how it felt to live without it. It was a constant surprise to her that it hadn’t come out before now.

Luca pulled her into the curve of his arm and Taylor gasped.

‘What are you doing?’

‘You give them too much power over you,’ he said softly, his lips in her hair so that no one watching could lip-read or overhear his words. ‘Rule number one, be who you really are. It’s far more uncomfortable living a lie than living the truth. Rule number two, never let the enemy know your weakness. Now we’re going to go out there and you’re going to smile or not, whichever you prefer, but you’re not going to show them that they scare you, capisci?’

His body pressed against hers, hard and powerful, and she realised that he hadn’t been pawing her but protecting her. The way he’d angled his body had prevented the press from seeing her sudden panic.

Thrown to discover he was capable of sensitivity, she swallowed. ‘I have no idea what capisci means but I assume it’s some unspeakable part of an animal that you probably just fed me.’

The corners of his mouth flickered into a smile. ‘Lift your chin. The first rule of hiding something is not to look as if you’re hiding it.’

‘I’m not hiding anything.’

‘You’re hiding more secrets than MI5, tesoro, but now is not the time to talk about them. Now smile that perfect smile you’ve perfected—the one that tells the world everything is good in your life even when it sucks.’

Taylor smiled obediently and he took her hand firmly in his and led her across the vine-covered terrace, down some steps and onto the street.

His hand tightened on hers. ‘You are thinking only of me,’ he murmured, ‘you’re not interested in them because you’re so in love with me.’

She just had time to mutter ‘in your dreams’ before they were mobbed.

‘Luca, Luca! Can we get a picture of you together?’

‘When is the wedding?’

‘When did you first meet Taylor?’

There was no such thing as privacy, Taylor thought numbly. There was no question they wouldn’t ask. No secret that they wouldn’t unearth and expose. They had no limits.

She thought of what they didn’t know and turned cold.

It would come out. It always came out.

She hadn’t realised she’d stopped walking until she felt Luca’s arm tighten round her. ‘You’ve already had more than enough pictures of us together.’ He spoke in that lazy drawl that made it sound as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘The wedding will be when we decide it will be and you will most certainly not be invited. Now go and bother someone else.’ Gently but firmly he nudged her forward, deflecting the barrage of intrusive questions with casual charm as he guided her to the car.

She envied the ease with which he dealt with them and she left him to do just that and was just about to climb into the passenger seat when he threw her the keys.

‘You’re driving.’

‘You can’t be serious?’

‘You’ve had one mouthful of champagne. I intend to take advantage of that. Not to mention the fact that you could barely keep your hands off the wheel earlier. Admit it, you’re longing to take this baby for a spin.’

‘One car is exactly the same as another to me.’

He smiled. ‘Right.’

It drove her mad that he knew her so well after five minutes in her company. ‘I’m not a speed merchant like you.’

That maddening smile widened. ‘Of course you’re not.’

Since her act was obviously wasted on him, Taylor slid behind the wheel, promising herself that she wasn’t going to drive fast. No way. She was going to prove that a car like this could be driven sedately. She was going to prove he was wrong about her.

Luca stretched out his legs and rolled his eyes. ‘Any time in the next century would be good.’

‘I’m taking my time.’

‘And while you’re taking your time, they’re snapping away,’ he murmured under his breath. ‘Snap, snap, snappety snap. Unless you want tomorrow’s headlines to be Taylor Carmichael Forgets How to Drive, I suggest you make a move.’

Horrified by that prospect, Taylor pressed her foot down and the car roared and sprang forward like a racehorse out of the starting gate. ‘Oh, I love this.’ The words burst from her spontaneously and he smiled.

‘So drive it. I presume you have no objection to speed on this occasion, my little petal? Let’s lose them, shall we?’ With a wolfish smile, Luca put his hand on her thigh and pressed her foot to the floor.

Taylor gasped and heads turned as the engine of the supercar screamed. The paparazzi jumped out of the way and she flinched back in her seat.

‘Did I kill anyone?’

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Sadly, no. But if you slam it into reverse now and spin the wheel to the right you might just get lucky.’

‘You’re terrible.’ She gave a snort of laughter and accelerated away, the power making her moan with pleasure. ‘I’ve never driven anything like this before.’

‘I can tell. Speed up. If they’re going to chase us at least give them something to chase.’

‘You’re an exhibitionist.’

‘This from a woman who ripped her dress at a celebrity wedding.’

‘You ripped the dress.’

‘And great fun it was too. I’m partial to naked thigh, particularly when it’s wrapped around me.’

She felt a rush of relief as they left the photographers behind and she had to admit that the car was sublime. There was something illicit and wickedly good about the power she now controlled. ‘Are they following us?’

Tilting his handsome head, he glanced in the rearview mirror. ‘Strangely enough, no. Clearly they think we’re off to have boring almost-married sex which no longer makes us worth following.’

‘I wish.’ She changed gear smoothly and he raised an eyebrow.

‘You wish we were having almost-married sex?’

‘No! I meant that I wish they thought we’re not worth following.’ Flustered by the way he made her feel, she shifted gear slightly too early and saw him wince.

‘Premature gear-change, dolcezza. Keep her hanging on until she’s desperate—then you give her what she wants.’

She felt her cheeks burn. ‘Is everything about sex to you?’

‘This car is all about sex and you know it.’

Taylor kept her eyes fixed on the road. She was trying really hard not to think about sex around this man. Quickly, she changed the subject. ‘Thank you for what you did back there.’

‘You mean when I chipped your frozen, terrified carcass off the ground? Want to tell me what that sudden panic attack was all about?’

No.

‘It wasn’t a panic attack.’ Ahead of her the setting sun dipped low on the horizon, touching the sea and sending slivers of red across the darkening surface while the soft evening breeze whispered across her face and whipped at her hair.

It was a blissful, perfect moment and Taylor wished she could freeze time and keep things this simple for ever but that wasn’t life, was it?

She was aware of Luca watching her, his expression veiled by thick dark lashes. ‘You were scared.’

‘Journalists do that to me.’ Her hair tangled in front of her face and she pushed it away, hating the fact that her fingers were still shaking. She had so much to hide and deep down she knew it was only a matter of time before it all came out. And when it did…‘They wrecked my life.’ And they’d wreck it again without a moment of hesitation.

‘You mean they wrote stuff about you. You’re too sensitive.’

‘They wrote about private things. Things that were none of their business. And they lie—’ The wind dried her lips and she licked at them. ‘Do you honestly not care when they do that?’

‘No. If people want to write about me they can go ahead. But I’m not ashamed of who I am. Unlike you.’

‘I’m not ashamed! I’m—’ She kept her eyes on the road. ‘Private. People change. I’m not the same person I was at ten, or seventeen or even twenty-four, so I don’t want to have to stare at that version of me when I switch on my computer or open a magazine. And yes, there are things I wish I hadn’t done. Things I’d do differently if I had my time again.’ Things she regretted deeply.

Her past lurked out there like a beast in the shadows and she knew it was going to pounce. Suddenly she wished she could keep driving into the sunset. Vanish and live a different life.

On impulse, she pulled in by the side of the road and stared at the view. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

‘Sicily is the most beautiful island in the world. That’s why I try and spend as much time here as I can.’

The phone in her bag pinged to signify a message, disturbing the moment, and Taylor reached across him eagerly and pulled it out of her bag. ‘With luck this will be good news on the director situation.’

But it wasn’t and her excitement turned to sick panic as she read the words on the screen.

Her hands grew clammy and her phone almost slid from her fingers.

She wanted to hurl it off the cliff, as if that simple gesture might cut her off from her past and keep her safe. But she knew there was no point. Whatever she did, her past would always haunt her. He would always haunt her.

‘Trouble?’ Luca was watching her and she tried desperately to pull herself together.

‘No.’ She shut off her phone and slipped it back into her bag.

‘For an actress, you’re a terrible liar.’

She knew she wasn’t a terrible liar but she was fast discovering that Luca Corretti, for all his reputation as a shallow playboy, was sharp as a razor. ‘I’m not lying. Just tired. I wish the press would disappear.’

‘You care too much about what people think.’

‘You have no idea what it’s like.’ The lump in her throat appeared from nowhere. ‘No idea what it’s like having cameras filming your every move from your first step to your first boyfriend. No idea what it’s like to be betrayed by the people closest to you—people who are supposed to care about you and love you—and no idea how it feels to wake up and realise the only person in the world you can trust is yourself.’ Her outburst shocked her almost as much as it clearly shocked him.

Taylor sat there, wondering how to pull back the words and recover the situation. She was usually so good at hiding her feelings but from the first moment she’d met Luca Corretti those feelings had been perilously close to the surface.

‘Sorry.’ Her voice was husky. ‘Ignore me. It’s been a difficult few days for me and today has been the most difficult of all.’

‘Why are you apologising? For once, you were honest about your feelings.’ Luca stared straight ahead, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Then he turned to look at her and when he spoke there was no trace of his usual humour. ‘We should go. Do you want me to drive?’

‘No.’ She was grateful to him for not delving further but of course he wouldn’t, would he? That sort of confession probably came under the heading of ‘emotional depth’ and Luca Corretti was a man who avoided ‘emotional depth’ at all costs.

He was no doubt already trying to find ways to ease himself out of their ‘fake’ engagement because who would want to be engaged to someone as messed up as her?

It took another ten minutes to get back to Luca’s house and, as the car purred through the security gates, she spotted cameras and two security guards.

‘You say you’re not worried about the press but you have very high-level security.’

‘That’s to protect me from all the women I’ve upset. and all the ones I haven’t yet upset, but probably will in the future.’ He was back to his normal self, his tone smooth and bored, and was relieved he clearly didn’t intend to question her further about her past.

‘I would have thought you needed an army for that.’

‘Fortunately for me I now have a fiancée.’ The tyres crunched on the gravel and he sprang from the car and opened the door for her in an old-fashioned gesture that surprised her. ‘I hate the word, but the institution might prove more useful than I could ever have imagined.’

‘So now you’re using me as a female defence system?’

‘Something like that.’ He relieved her of the car keys. ‘You drive well for a woman.’

‘That is so patronising. If I’d known you were going to say something like that I would have wrapped your precious Ferrari round a lamppost.’

The banter felt so much more comfortable than confidences but just being with him unsettled her. She was used to spending her time around ridiculously attractive men—men who spent their days working on their physique, men who spent a considerable time in front of the mirror, none of whom tempted her. Luca was different. He was spectacularly handsome, that was true, his Sicilian bloodline evident in his darkly brooding features and his volatile personality, but for her the attraction lay deeper. She was drawn to his self-confidence, his lack of pretentiousness and, most of all, his innate honesty. Luca Corretti didn’t waste time putting a barrier between himself and the world and if they came too close, he simply shrugged.

As his arm brushed against hers she felt sensation flutter across her skin and float through her body. She was tall but he was significantly taller, much taller than her current leading man, who needed heel lifts and clever camera angles to increase his height. Luca needed no such help.

It was only as he closed the bedroom door behind them that she realised they hadn’t discussed this part of their arrangement.

‘Where am I sleeping?’

‘In my bed, where all good fiancée’s sleep.’

Keeping her expression in place she dropped her purse on the soft white sofa. She realised that she was exhausted. She hadn’t slept well since hearing the film role was hers and now wouldn’t sleep until she knew she hadn’t lost it. ‘I will sleep in your bed, but not if you’re in it.’

‘Sleeping apart is not one of the habits of happily engaged couples.’

‘Unless you’re expecting hoards of slavering women to break into your room tonight, I assume we’re not going to have an audience for the next part of our deception?’

‘We might. It would strengthen our story if Geovana deserves to hear you moaning with pleasure as she walks past the door.’

‘I’m not a moaner.’

He smiled as he undid the buttons of his shirt. ‘You’d moan if you were with me, bellissima.’

‘Sure of yourself, aren’t you?’

‘I’ve never subscribed to the benefits of false modesty. I can have you moaning in under thirty seconds. Want to try it out? Practice the scene?’

Her heart was pounding. ‘I don’t need to practice. I’m a one-take wonder. And the only way I’d moan is if it was written into the script.’ Her mouth dried as he shrugged off the shirt, revealing bronzed shoulders and muscles that could have featured in an action movie. The hardness of his physique contrasted with the effortless elegance of his clothes and she clenched her jaw and dismissed the thought that he was better looking than any of the actors she’d worked with.

‘Admit it.’ Fully aware of her scrutiny, he dropped the shirt over the back of the nearest chair. ‘You can’t stop thinking about that kiss.’

‘What kiss?’

He smiled. ‘How does it feel to spend your life pretending to be someone you’re not? Uncomfortable? Frustrating?’

‘I’m not pretending. This is who I am.’

The smile faded and this time when he looked at her there was no sign of the flippant playboy. ‘No. You present the world with a plastic, perfect version of yourself. No flaws. You show the person you think the world wants to see, not the real you. Maybe that’s what some men want, but not me.’ The hardness of his tone surprised her and she took a step backwards, wondering what had triggered that response.

‘But this isn’t real so what you want is of no relevance.’

‘If I’m expected to spend time with you then it’s going to be with the real you. The real you is the woman who was with me in the maze. That woman interests me extremely. Any chance she could come out and play?’ His tone had lightened again but it was too late because already there was an electric tension in the atmosphere.

She was so aware of him, almost blinded by the raw sexuality that radiated from every throbbing, muscular inch of his powerful frame. From that silky dark hair to those moody black eyes, he was all man. And the most dangerous thing of all was that, somehow, he knew her. Not the public her that she’d created, but the real her. ‘That woman is a figment of your imagination.’

‘You had your hands on me. My imagination had nothing to do with it.’

‘You had your hands on me first.’

‘I never said it wasn’t mutual.’ Those eyes were dark as night, seeing everything she was hiding.

‘It isn’t mutual.’

‘Sweetheart, you should know that I have a highly competitive nature and you’re tempting me to prove it.’

‘No.’ She looked away from him, trying to snap the connection. Trying to pull together the torn threads of her protection. ‘It was just a kiss. A badly timed kiss as it turns out.’

‘Maybe not. We’re here because of that kiss.’

‘Precisely!’

Without warning he slid his hand behind her neck and drew her towards him. ‘Once again we see things differently. You see this as a bad thing, but because of this situation I finally have the board listening to me and you—’

‘I’m on a film that currently has no director.’ His mouth was so close to hers she was afraid to breathe. ‘How is that good?’

His phone buzzed and he paused, his eyes locked on hers.

For a moment she thought he was going to ignore it and then he let his hand drop. Instantly she stepped backwards, creating distance, and he gave her a mocking smile as he drew his phone out of his pocket and read the message. Dark brows rose. ‘Apparently you do have a director.’

‘We do?’ Taylor’s heart was pounding in her chest. ‘He found someone? Who?’

‘Rafaele Beninato.’

Just hearing the name made her feel sick.

‘Are you sure?’ It was her worst nightmare and the irony was that if she hadn’t been caught in the maze with Luca, it wouldn’t have happened. The first director would still be in place. But Rafaele had found a way to infiltrate her life, as he always had.

‘His name is familiar. Didn’t you and he have a thing once?’

‘I—yes. But it was a long time ago.’ She’d been seventeen years old and had been thrown out of the house by her mother. She’d been young, vulnerable and desperately lonely. A perfect target for a calculating opportunist like Rafaele. How had he got himself on the movie? He must have been stalking Santo Corretti as well as her.

Whatever the reason, her relationship with trouble had stopped being long distance and was suddenly right up close.

Luca glanced up from his phone. ‘Bit old for you, isn’t he?’

She was struggling to think. ‘Is this the part where we talk about our past relationships?’

He looked at her steadily and then slowly put his phone down. ‘I’ll assume from your defensive response he was one of the ones who let you down. Is it going to be difficult to work with him?’

‘I’m a professional,’ Taylor croaked. ‘I’ll work with anyone I’m expected to work with. No problem. I’m just pleased to have a new director.’

‘Are you sure?’ His tone was deceptively casual. ‘Because I can rough him up a little if you like. I’m your fiancé after all.’

She gave a choked laugh. Was it pathetic of her to wish, just for a minute, that their engagement was real and for once in her life she had someone who cared enough to offer support? ‘If you rough him up we’ll be minus a director again. And I want to act. I must do this film.’ Not just because the complexity of the role would finally earn her a reputation as a serious actress, but also because she didn’t want to give Rafaele the slightest reason to use what he had against her.

Luca stared down at her for a long moment. ‘All right. But he’d better not step out of line. I’ve met him a couple of times. The guy gives me the creeps. They want you on set at eight tomorrow morning to start filming the docklands scenes. He said he texted you but you switched your phone off.’

She hadn’t wanted to see another text from Rafaele. In the past she’d blocked him and changed her phone but he always managed to find a way to contact her.

‘I like to relax when I’m off set.’ She didn’t confess that she never relaxed because lurking in the back of her mind was the knowledge that her secrets could be revealed at any time.

Secrets that Rafaele knew.

And now he was back in her life.

Luca glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll drop you on set with a large fuss and dance and then pick you up later. And Randy Rafaele had better keep his hands to himself.’

He was seriously proposing that they spend the night together? In the same room?

Suddenly she realised that she had more immediate problems than Rafaele and that problem was six foot two of insanely sexy man.

‘They have a trailer for me,’ Taylor stammered. ‘I should stay there. It’s usually pretty luxurious.’

‘There is no way I’m spending the night in a trailer for anyone, however luxurious.’ Luca’s appalled expression was almost comical. ‘I’m strictly a five-star guy.’

‘I wasn’t inviting you to stay with me. I was suggesting we don’t spend the night together.’

An incredulous dark eyebrow rose. ‘People are no doubt struggling to believe I’m engaged. If we don’t spend the night together the whole thing is blown. We’ll stay here and I’ll drive you. That’s much more romantic. What’s the film about anyway? I probably ought to know what my beloved is spending her day doing.’

Her gaze skidded round the room. If he wouldn’t sleep on the couch then she would. There was no way she was sharing the bed with this man. No way.

‘The heroine’s husband was missing in Iraq, presumed killed. She goes to bed with his friend, gets pregnant and then the husband turns up alive. It’s a film about forgiveness, I suppose. It’s a very emotional role.’

Luca shuddered. ‘Chick flick. Don’t invite me to the premiere.’

‘No chance of that. Do you have another room I can use? I need to read through the script if I’m filming first thing tomorrow. It’s part of my routine and I don’t want to keep you awake.’

‘My routine is to have hot sex the night before a big meeting and I definitely do want to keep you awake.’ His smile was slow and lazy, his gaze unapologetically sexual as he focused on her mouth.

She felt her limbs weaken. He was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. ‘You’re winding me up.’

‘Maybe I’m not.’ Dark eyes grazed hers from under long, sinfully thick lashes. ‘Maybe I think you and I would be explosive together, Taylor Carmichael. Maybe I think we might as well take advantage of this situation.’

‘Yeah, right—and tomorrow you’d sell the story to the press.’

‘I’d never do that.’ His voice was suddenly cold. ‘Anything the press printed wouldn’t have come from me.’

She thought about Portia and realised he suffered from the same problem. ‘Doesn’t it upset you? When women talk to the press about you—doesn’t that make you mad?’

‘No, because I haven’t the slightest interest in what the general public think of me.’

‘So what do you care about, Luca Corretti? There must be something.’

‘I care about living my life the way I want to live it. I’m not a people pleaser—’ his eyes mocked her gently ‘—except in bed. That’s the one place I’m willing to make an exception to my rule.’

‘Then go ahead. I’m not stopping you. If you can find a woman brainless enough to have sex with you then call her. I’d rather sleep in the spare room anyway.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. Admit it, Carmichael—you’re tempted.’

‘I’m so not tempted.’

‘Yes, you are. But you won’t give in to it—’ his hand cupped her face and he stroked her cheek with his thumb ‘—because you’re scared to death of being yourself with anyone any more. You are so busy holding yourself back you’ve almost forgotten how to live.’

Her heart was pounding.

He was supposed to be a shallow playboy so how did he manage to read her so well?

‘I know this will come as a shock to you, but the fact that I don’t want to rip your clothes is because I just don’t find you attractive.’ His response to that was to laugh and she pulled away from him. ‘You are so arrogant. You just can’t imagine there is a woman who doesn’t want you, can you?’

‘I’m sure somewhere in the universe there may be a woman who doesn’t want me—it just doesn’t happen to be you. But we’ll see how long that self-control of yours lasts when it’s really tested, dolcezza. You can sleep in the bed tonight. I’ll take the sofa.’

And with that he walked into the bathroom leaving her fuming, confused and more desperate for a man than she could ever remember feeling in her life before.