The moon sent arrows of light onto inky dark water and she knew from the soft splash next to her that Luca was adjusting his pace to stay level with her.
They swam until her limbs felt tired and her eyes stung from the salt water. Reluctantly she left the water, picked up her T-shirt and dried her face. Then she twisted her hair into a thick rope and squeezed out the water, conscious of him next to her. Conscious of every beat of her heart and the movement of her breath through her lungs.
She'd thought she was immune to this. She'd worked with hot men for her entire career and these days had no trouble resisting them. But this was different and she knew it wasn't his looks that drew her-it was his hunger for living. He ate it up, devoured everything life had to offer without regret or apology, and she admired that and wanted it for herself. She wanted to live like this every day.
Her heart gave a little leap although whether it was nerves or excitement, she didn't know.
All she knew was that she wanted him.
She pulled his head down to hers and his mouth closed over hers with no hesitation, hot and demanding.
He scooped her wet hair away from her face, his sinfully clever mouth fierce on hers, and she kissed him back with the same desperation, feeling something unravel inside her.
Instead of hearing her mother's voice she heard nothing but her own heartbeat, her own desires, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her body aching for his, so aroused she couldn't think straight. She held nothing back, gave him all that she was as they kissed hungrily, bonded together by mutual desire and chemistry. She sensed that he was no more in control than she was and she heard him groan as she slid her hands down his body, savouring the feel of hard male muscle.
‘You're killing me, Teresa.'
Laughing, breathless, she pushed him backwards and they tumbled together onto the soft pile of clothes they'd abandoned before their swim. ‘I haven't even started. You're driving me crazy.' She licked at his chest, tasted the salt of seawater on her tongue and then moved lower until his breathing changed, until his hands tangled in her wet hair, until he took control and shifted her onto him.
She straddled him in the moonlight, her damp hair trailing over his chest, her eyes fixed on his as she took him deep, her lips parting as she felt the thick, hot pulse of his erection inside her. His hands gripped her hips and they moved together in a perfect rhythm as if this intimacy was something they'd shared forever.
‘Cristo, Taylor,' he moaned her name. Her name. Taylor, not Teresa. The pretence had long gone as had the humour. His passion was every bit as dark as hers. They were both deadly serious, wrapped up in each other, oblivious to anything and everything but the moment as they rode the excitement until it exploded and took them over the edge and he caught her head in his hands and drew her mouth to his. And she discovered a kiss wasn't always about sensual manipulation. Sometimes it was a gift.
And as the madness faded she curled against him, her body dampened by sweat and sea as her heartbeat gradually slowed and steadied.
‘I've wanted to do this for so long.'
There was a pause and then his hand lifted to her hair and stroked it away from her face. ‘Swim naked?'
‘No.' Her words were muffled against his chest. ‘Be myself. Be invisible for a night. Be able to do what I want, with who I want, without thinking of the consequences. When I was a kid I just wanted to run off and assume another identity.'
‘You didn't want to be an actress?'
‘I loved the acting. I hated everything that went with it. And I hated that all I was to my mother was a meal ticket.'
‘She was ambitious for you.'
‘No, she was ambitious for herself. She was determined I'd live the life she'd wanted and hadn't had. She didn't want me to make any of the mistakes she'd made. She controlled everything I ate, everything I did, everyone I saw. Even the big Hollywood studios were afraid of my mother. She mapped out a path for me. She decided which parts I'd take, who I could be photographed with. And she played the media.' Taylor rolled onto her back and stared up at the stars. ‘She'd start rumours, anything to make sure my name and face were always in the press. I felt suffocated. Stifled. The only thing I never felt was loved.'
‘I'm surprised you didn't rebel in a big way.'
‘I did.' She'd unlocked the dark and it came swirling over her. Shocked by how sharp and raw it still was even after so many years she sat up sharply, trying to push it back. ‘I fired my mother as my manager and everyone labelled me as difficult. I wasn't. I was just horribly lonely and disillusioned about everything. I wanted someone to love me for me, not for what being with me could give them, but when I told her I didn't want her involved in my work any more, she told me to move out. And she gave all these stories to the press about how I'd betrayed her.' The agony was as raw as ever. ‘She was my mom, but she was only ever interested in what she could get from being with me. And I soon learned that was true of everyone around me. There was no one I could trust.' She didn't give him the detail. Didn't spell out the embarrassing number of times she'd trusted a person only to find intimate details in the press the next day.
‘Where did you go?'
Taylor wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘I moved in with Rafaele. He was directing my film and he saw me falling apart under the pressure. He offered me somewhere to go.'
‘In other words he took advantage.'
‘It didn't seem that way at the time but yes. I made a bad decision. I was seventeen and up until that point my mother had made virtually every decision for me.' She could see now that she'd allowed her vulnerability to colour her view of the people around her. ‘I was so lonely. So desperate for someone who would love me for myself and not for what they'd gain from being with me. The breakup with my mother was all over the press. It was horrible. And that was when my father saw his opportunity to come back into my life and play the hero.'
‘Perfect timing.'
‘Yes. Except I was pretty messed up by then. I couldn't see why he would want me when he hadn't bothered being in my life for the first seventeen years and I told him that. So then he milked the press interest for everything it was worth and told more stories about me being a spoiled brat. I kept the media going single-handed. Every day there was another story about me. It was vile. The only person who seemed to care about me was Rafaele.'
Luca took her hand in the dark. ‘Bastard.'
It was exactly the right response. She didn't think she could have handled sympathy, although the strength of his fingers on hers felt good.
‘Yes. He wasn't a nice man.' This was when she should tell him. She should confess about the phone calls, the threats, the sick feeling she lived with every day, the stuff she was terrified of people discovering, but she'd kept her secret for too long to part with it now.
Trust, even this degree of trust, was so new to her it felt unfamiliar so she drew her hand away from his. ‘Enough of that. Tonight is about having fun.'
And she realised with a lurch that every moment she'd spent with him had been fun. Even when they were fighting, he made her laugh. Unsettled by that realisation, she lightened her tone. ‘Good job the board can't see you now lying naked on a public beach. I think you're newfound respectability just died a death, Corretti.'
‘What the board doesn't see the board can't moan about. And it isn't a public beach.' He wrapped his arms around her and hauled her back to him, showing no urgency to get dressed, and she relaxed against him. Why not? It was perfect lying here with only the sounds of the sea for company.
‘What do you mean? If it isn't public, what are we doing here?'
‘It's my beach. Private. There's a path that leads up to the house from here.'
‘Seriously?' She lifted her head and stared at him through the semi-darkness. ‘We're that close? So we could leave the car and just walk?'
‘If you want to. But it's not easy to follow in the dark and it's steep. Car would be faster.'
‘Then let's take the car.' Suddenly she wanted to be home with him and she sprang to her feet and tugged her clothes out from under him. ‘I have no idea what happened to the wig.'
‘Doesn't matter. It served its purpose.' The serious nature of their conversation forgotten, he took her hand and they sprinted back to the car.