An Invitation to Sin(11)

       
           



       

Just when it appeared the driver was going to mow them down he hit the  brakes, sending a cloud of dust rising upwards. And Taylor simply stared  because there, seated behind the wheel, his eyes hidden by a pair of  dark glasses that made him look insanely attractive, was Luca Corretti.

A female journalist standing nearby reached into her bag for lipgloss and Taylor felt the anger start to boil inside her.

This was all his fault.

Not only had he created this whole situation with his careless lack of  concern for other people, but he'd refused to go along with her plan to  bail them both out. And now he had the nerve to turn up here to make  sure she'd confessed to her crime in public.

Her anger grew as he vaulted from the car and strolled towards the  journalists with indolent grace. ‘So maybe I broke the speed limit just a  little bit-' playing to the crowd, he gave a wicked smile that held no  trace of regret or apology ‘-but some things are worth rushing for and a  beautiful woman is one of those.'

Furious that he could be so relaxed when her life was in shreds, Taylor  elbowed her way through the journalists, who retreated in fascination,  their professional sensors telling them that they were about to witness  something worth writing about.

Taylor didn't care. She was off the film anyway. How much worse could it get?

‘Luca Corretti, you are the most-'

His hands cupped her face and his mouth covered hers. His kiss was hot,  explicit and devastating, and when he finally lifted his dark head  enough for her to speak, the only sound she was capable of was a moan.  Because there was no way she was moaning in public, she stayed silent.

‘Sorry, tesoro, you were saying?' Slumberous dark eyes looked down at  her. ‘You wanted to tell me that you missed me, no? That I am the  sexiest man in the world? The most clever? The most amusing?' Sliding  his arm around her shoulders, he turned to face the journalists, his  smile disarming. ‘She is struck dumb.'

A ripple of laughter spread across the crowd.

Taylor was so shaken by that kiss, she couldn't focus. All she wanted to  do was lock her hands in that glossy dark hair, pull his head down to  her and kiss him again. And again-

‘Luca-'

‘Mi dispiace … ' Turning towards her, he leaned his forehead against hers  and smiled that smile that made women forget how to put one leg in front  of the other to walk away. ‘Forgive me for not making it here on time. I  am a rat. A total bastard. I don't deserve you.'

She stared at him, eyes locked with his, hypnotised by the sheer power  of the chemistry. It wrapped itself around her like metal bands, holding  her trapped.

A sea of excited questions washed up against the wall of their own private sexual cocoon.

‘So it really is true?' A female journalist thrust a microphone towards  them. ‘Luca, you always said you weren't the marrying kind. What's  changed?'

Taylor wanted to ask the same question. ‘Yes,' she muttered through  clenched teeth, ‘do tell us what changed.' But relief spread through  her, taking with it her anger.

He was going to play along. For now, she was safe and that was all that mattered. They could work out the detail later.

His fingers stroked her face gently. ‘I realised there is nothing I want more than to be engaged to Taylor.'

Another journalist stepped closer. ‘You've just broken a million women's hearts.'

‘I'm only interested in one woman's heart.' He leaned closer to her, his  mouth by her ear. ‘How long am I supposed to keep this up?'

She went from wanting to punch him to wanting to laugh out loud and not  just because she was relieved he'd decided to go along with her plan.  She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips along the dark shadow of his  jaw. ‘Mess this up and I'll sentence you to death by a thousand  Portias.'

‘Portia?' His tone was innocent. ‘I've never met anyone called Portia.'

To the watching journalists it looked like a romantic exchange and she heard someone sigh wistfully.

‘All right, that's enough romance for one day,' Luca murmured under his  breath, easing away from her and addressing the crowd. ‘All this  attention is very distracting for my … fiancée.'

Taylor wondered if she was the only one who noticed he stumbled over the  word. ‘Yes. I need to get on with my job. So if there are no more  questions-'

‘Tell us about the proposal. And why aren't you wearing a ring?'

Taylor froze. Deprived of sleep, her brain failed to think of a response  but Luca pushed his hand into his pocket and there, dangling from his  fingers and sparkling in the Sicilian sunshine, was a huge diamond ring.                       
       
           



       

‘I chose an extra big one,' he drawled, ‘to hold her in place so she  can't run away when I misbehave. And also so that when she's angry with  me she can throw it and knock me unconscious. I've been keeping it with  me because we hadn't exactly planned to go public with this today.'

Wondering where he'd managed to find such an incredible ring at such  short notice, Taylor allowed him to slip it onto the appropriate finger  and smiled her most romantic smile while the female journalists gazed on  with envy and greed.

‘Taylor, can you tell me in a single word how you felt when he gave you that ring?'

That was easy enough. ‘It was a moment beyond words. I was speechless.'

‘And that was the best possible response because speechless is how I  prefer my women.' At his most shocking, Luca kept her hand tightly in  his and ploughed his way through the flock of press back to his Ferrari.  ‘And now if you'll excuse us, we are going to seek some privacy to do,  er, to do those things engaged people do. Santo, when you find a  director with balls, call us.'

She was still on the film.

Weak with relief, Taylor closed her eyes, leaned her head against The  passenger seat and let the wind blow through her hair. Beneath her she  felt the power of the engine and smiled. the car was a glorious, sinful  expression of luxury and speed and part of her just wanted to push him  aside, grab the wheel and slam her foot to the floor. She wanted to  swing round tight hairpin bends and drive the car to the edge in every  sense of the word.

But Taylor Carmichael didn't do things like that.

Not any more.

Taylor Carmichael behaved herself at all times.

Taylor Carmichael was never, ever going to be caught out again.

She opened her eyes feeling light-headed. Somehow, she was still on the  film. Unfortunately she was also with Luca Corretti, a man as capable of  extinguishing her good fortune as he was at nurturing it. ‘Where are we  going?'

‘Somewhere away from all those people who seem determined to share in  our special, private moment.' He shifted gears smoothly. The engine  roared and they overtook car after car as they sped along the coast  road.

Taylor, who normally hated being driven, wondered why she didn't feel  nervous. ‘So why the change of heart? I thought you didn't want to be  engaged.'

‘I don't. But I don't mind pretending to be engaged for as long as it  suits me. I gained instant respectability. The board cried over my  instant transformation.'

‘They cried? Really?' The wind whipped her hair around her face and she  anchored it with her hand, exhilarated by the speed, a smile on her  lips. ‘That's almost funny.'

‘I agree.' Leaning on his horn as he executed a deathdefying  acceleration to pass another car, he threw her a slanting smile that  made her think of nothing but sex. ‘Who would have thought it? We appear  to share a sense of humour. And a love of speed.'

Unsettled at the thought of having anything in common with him, Taylor  frowned. ‘We'll be sharing an ambulance if you don't slow down.'

‘Oh, come on-' his eyes were back on the road ‘-you're a woman who was built to go fast.'

‘I hate driving fast.'

‘No, you don't. You love it.'

‘You're reckless.' She told herself it was the speed of the car not the  wicked curve of his mouth that made her heart beat a little bit faster.

‘Has it ever occurred to you that it's the other drivers who are going  too slowly? There should be a sign-Dithering Is Dangerous. And you  should know that fast is my default speed for everything except sex.'

‘I don't need to know that.' She'd been trying not to think about sex  but it was impossible around this man. Everything about him screamed  masculinity, even the way he handled the car. She looked away quickly,  trying to forget the sheer animal passion they'd unleashed together. And  that had been just a single kiss. Her brief moment of relief turned to  dread as she realised that her desperate, impulsive attempt to protect  her position on the film had placed her in a position where she was  going to have to spend time with this man. This man who tempted her more  than any other. Despite the baking sun her skin felt suddenly cold. ‘I  already know enough and I think you are the most infuriating man I've  ever met.'