‘You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.' Geovana's hands tightened on hers. ‘Welcome.'
Touched by the warmth shown to her, Taylor looked at Luca. ‘How do I say "I'm pleased to be here" in Italian?'
‘I amarlo così tanto la sua folle.'
She repeated it slowly and was stunned when Geovana flung her arms round her and hugged her tightly. Unused to being hugged, Taylor held herself rigid. ‘Oh! This is … nice and … welcoming.' Most of all it was unfamiliar. She frowned slightly, feeling something inside her unravel. Geovana was warm and plump and … motherly. Taylor swallowed. Her own mother had seen her as a meal ticket, as a means to live out her own dreams, not as a daughter to be hugged. Their conversations had only ever been about how Taylor could do more, be more, never about who she was or what she wanted, and it had never, ever been about affection. They'd parted ways when Taylor was seventeen and hadn't spoken since.
When Geovana finally released her only to kiss her on both cheeks, Taylor felt confused, raw and vulnerable.
‘She likes you,' Luca said in a flat drawl, ‘that's a compliment. Come on, I'll show you to our bedroom suite.'
Our bedroom? She decided to ignore that until they were alone. ‘Doesn't she usually like your girlfriends?'
‘She's never met any of them.' Taking her hand, Luca strode into the house as if he owned it, crossed the beautiful, light-filled entrance hall and up a curved staircase.
‘Why hasn't she met any of them?' Taylor tugged at her hand but he didn't release her. His fingers were cool and strong. ‘I assumed this hotel is one of your regular sex hideouts. Or do you smuggle your women in and out through the window?' She tugged at her hand, harder this time, and this time he released her.
Relief flowed through her and she promised herself that from now on she'd keep a physical distance from him. No touching. She had enough problems without adding to them.
‘This isn't a hotel.' He pushed open a door and walked into a room that took her breath away. Through the open French doors the view stretched across a garden to a vineyard and, beyond that, in the distance, the towering peak of Mount Etna.
Taylor decided she'd never seen a more perfect view in her life. ‘Wow. You have an eye for beauty, I'll give you that. It's stunning. And so private.' Reluctantly, she dragged her eyes from the view to look at him. ‘If this isn't a hotel, then what is it?'
‘It's my home.' He shrugged off his jacket and removed his tie. ‘And I don't bring women here, so don't get too comfortable. Strictly speaking I should have blindfolded you before I brought you to my private lair.'
‘Why don't you bring women here?'
‘Because my home is a place to relax and women are exhausting.' He strolled across the sunlit room and placed his cufflinks in a dish on the nightstand, ‘From their uncanny ability to misinterpret everything a man says or does, to their endless demands for reassurance, including such well-loved phrases as "Does this dress make me look fat?" and-every man's favourite-"What are you thinking?"'
‘Yeah, that must be a tough one for a guy like you who never bothers thinking. If you had bothered to think you wouldn't have messed up so badly with Portia.' She used sarcasm to cover up the way he made her feel. It wasn't just the sexual chemistry that terrified her, it was the buzz she had from talking to him.
‘I didn't mess up with Portia. That relationship ended precisely when I intended it to. I consider that to be a success.'
‘But if you'd ended it more thoughtfully we wouldn't be in this position.'
‘In what position? Suddenly we're both respectable. It's a miracle.' With a complete lack of self-consciousness he undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt, allowing it to fall open. His trousers rode low on his lean hips, revealing toned, male abs, and Taylor averted her eyes, ignoring the dangerous curl of warmth that spread through her body.
‘Thanks, but I can live without the striptease.'
‘Is it bothering you?'
Exasperation mingled with a much more dangerous emotion. ‘No, it isn't bothering me. But I'm the sort of person who needs personal space. We should have stayed at my hotel.' The glimpse had been brief, but the image of his bronzed, fit body was seared onto her brain. ‘I have a suite with two rooms.'
‘I can't stand hotels.'
‘And yet you want to run the family business?'
‘That's different.' He shrugged, his tone bored. ‘That's just about proving a point. And if we're going to be engaged then I need space too. I'm not good at being trapped with a woman.'
But now they were both trapped and he was looking at her, assessing her with that lazy, sexy stare that was so much a part of him until she felt as if her skin might catch fire.
Desperately, she steered the subject onto safer ground. ‘So tell me about Geovana.' She thought about the warmth the other woman had shown her. ‘Why did she hug me so tightly? When I said I was pleased to be here, she almost strangled me.'
‘That's because you didn't say you were pleased to be here. You said you were so in love with me it's driving you crazy.'
She gaped at him. ‘I said what you told me to say.'
‘Yes. And you were remarkably fluent. Very impressive for a non-Italian speaker.'
Mouth tightening, she tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I suppose you think that's really funny. Like teaching a toddler to use rude words.'
‘Since I don't intend to ever marry, that's an experience I'm not going to be in a position to comment on but strangely enough I didn't do it to be funny. I did it because we're supposed to be engaged. You're not the only one who can act a part when required.'
‘That's why she hugged me? Because I told her I was crazy about you?'
‘So it would seem.' A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Today is probably the happiest day of her life. Geovana had given up on seeing me bring a woman home.'
‘Because no woman would put up with you.' But part of her wondered whether there was a deeper reason for his aversion to marriage. Her instincts told her there was more to it than simply a love of a playboy lifestyle. ‘Have you known her a long time?'
‘Since I was five years old.'
Taylor felt a twinge of envy at the warmth of his relationship with the woman.
She didn't have anyone in her life she was close to. No one she could trust as Luca clearly trusted Geovana. It was obvious that the older woman adored him.
‘How did you meet her?' She asked the question as they walked up the stairs towards the bedroom.
‘She was our nanny until my mother fired her in a fit of jealousy.'
‘You had a nanny?' She bit her tongue. Of course he'd had a nanny. He came from a rich family. He hadn't been used as the breadwinner by an ambitious mother while he was still in nappies. ‘Did your mother work?'
‘It was a full-time job trying to keep my father happy.'
She was about to question that statement when he started to unbuckle his belt. ‘Whoa. Rewind. I do not need to see you naked. This engagement is fake, remember?'
‘There is no way I'll forget that, dolcezza. Just make sure you don't.'
‘Oh, please-there is no way I'll forget that.'
‘Don't be so sure. Every woman I meet thinks she's going to be the one to change my ways and drag me to the altar.'
Turning her back on him, Taylor paced around the room, noticing the art on the walls and the beautiful stylish touches. There were no photographs. Nothing personal. ‘You are known for living the high life. We are going to have to work extra hard to convince people this is real. Even pretending is giving you a hunted look. I'm going to have to teach you to act.'
‘I can act. I don't need your help.'
‘And I may not need yours if Santo doesn't manage to replace the director.' Battling a rush of insecurity, Taylor walked through the French doors onto the pretty balcony with its glorious views of the Sicilian countryside. ‘It's gorgeous. Are you sure the press won't find us here?'
‘Of course I'm not sure. They can find us anywhere, that's their job.' He seemed completely indifferent to the possibility and she felt her own pulse rate quicken as she walked back into the bedroom.
‘Don't you care?'
‘Why would I?'
‘It's an invasion of privacy.'
‘I've never seen the need to hide what I do.' He removed his shirt and dropped it onto the bed. The flex of hard, honed muscle across his wide shoulders had her staring, and because this was the day where nothing was going her way that was the moment he turned and caught her.