An Invitation to Sin(17)

‘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.