An Invitation to Sin(32)

Taylor sat, covered in sand and happiness, wishing her life could always be like this.

‘I enjoyed being Teresa. It was fun.' And she rarely did anything for fun. Fun wasn't part of her plan.

‘Having fun suits you. You were built to have fun.' He shot out a hand  to steady her as the car lurched up the road. ‘Only next time let's have  fun in the Ferrari. I don't mind buying you a wig but I draw the line  at driving this car again.'

‘Where is the Ferrari?'

‘Hopefully back in the garage with no damage to the paintwork.'

‘I'm covered in sand. What if Geovana sees us?'

‘She'll thoroughly approve, but I'd rather avoid that conversation if possible.'

Like naughty children, they sneaked into the house, trailing sand on polished wood.

‘We are going to be in trouble tomorrow.' She gasped as Luca nudged her  into the shower, removed her clothes for the second time in one evening  and turned on the jets.

‘Then it's a good thing I've never been frightened of trouble.'

Taylor opened her mouth to ask what would happen when everyone found out their relationship was fake, but then closed it again.

Tonight, she didn't want to think that this was fake. And this part  wasn't, was it? The engagement-sure, that was fake. But everything else?                       
       
           



       

No, not this part, with his hands in her hair and his mouth hot and  demanding on hers. This was definitely real, and she closed her eyes and  let the water wash over her. Felt his hands move lower, gasped at the  skilled slide of his fingers over the most sensitive parts of her and  after that she stopped thinking at all and just let herself feel.

They fell into a routine-work during the day and each other at night.  Neither of them used the word relationship, nor any other word that  might have implied their arrangement had in any way veered from the  original plan.

Taylor found working with Ella, the new director, fulfilling and fun.

Of Rafaele she'd heard nothing and even her phone was silent.

She started to relax for the first time in years. It occurred to her that maybe Luca had frightened him off.

And although she and Luca kept up their public appearances, he was  remarkably good at protecting her privacy and giving her space.

It was several weeks after Rafaele's departure when she woke one morning to find herself alone in the bed.

Luca was standing on the balcony of the bedroom wearing nothing but a  pair of hastily pulled-on jeans, nursing a cup of strong coffee as he  stared into the distance.

Taylor slid out of bed and walked over to him. ‘You have the board meeting today. Is that why you're awake?'

‘I'm enjoying a few moments of smug satisfaction that my interior  make-over has had such an impact on profits. Profits of Corretti Home  are up by thirty per cent and I have a team working on a strategy for  Corretti Bambino. Would it make you laugh to discover I was studying  population forecasts yesterday?'

She laughed and slid her arms round his waist, enjoying the peace and  the privacy. ‘Have you always lived in Sicily? Did you grow up in this  house?'

‘No.'

His lack of response frustrated her and she drew away slightly. ‘You never tell me anything about yourself.'

‘There's nothing to say.'

‘Of course there isn't. You had no life before you met me.' She kept her  voice cool and his hand shot out and he hauled her back so that she was  eye to eye with him.

‘Don't do that. Don't pretend you don't care and that I haven't just  hurt your feelings.' His voice was rough and sexy, his jaw dark with  stubble. ‘Don't tuck the real you back inside the fake you. It's too  much effort to dig her out again, but if I have to I will, because  there's only one version of Taylor that interests me.'

‘Fine! If you want honesty I'll give you honesty. Yes, it hurts my  feelings when you strip me naked and have sex with me all night, every  night, and then won't answer a single question about yourself.'

They were eye to eye, nose to nose, flat up against each other and she could feel the warmth of his chest against her skin.

And then he released her and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Get  dressed.' His voice was unsteady and she felt a sudden lurch of horror.

Was this it?

Was this the end of their ‘engagement'? Had he decided that now his  project was safely reaching a satisfactory conclusion he no longer  needed her?

‘Why do you want me to get dressed?'

‘I'm taking you to meet someone.'

Luca parked the car outside the house and questioned the impulse that  had driven him to bring a woman to a place he'd never brought a woman to  before.

As if realising something significant was happening, Taylor gave him a puzzled look. ‘Where are we?'

‘This is my grandmother's house.'

‘You visit your grandmother?'

Luca strolled round the car and opened the door for her. ‘What's wrong with that?'

‘Nothing but-' she bit her lip ‘-I'm just surprised, that's all. You  don't strike me as the sort of guy who visits his grandmother. I thought  your family wasn't close.'

‘We're not. But my grandmother makes my life hell if I don't drop in and  see her once in a while. She's heard news of our engagement. She wants  to meet you. I'd appreciate it if you'd play the role of loving fiancée.  She doesn't need to know our relationship consists of numerous fake  performances and endless nights of hot sex.'

Endless nights?

The realisation hit him in the gut and he frowned slightly but Taylor didn't comment on that.

‘You care about her.'

Luca shrugged. ‘I don't want to upset her. She lost my grandfather a few  months ago. I try and visit whenever I'm not travelling. She'll be on  the terrace at this time, eating breakfast.'

With Taylor's hand locked in his, he strode round the house to the  vine-covered terrace and found his grandmother sipping coffee.                       
       
           



       

Every time he came here, the memories came with him but he'd already  stayed away too long and he greeted her in Italian and stooped to kiss  her wrinkled cheek. ‘I brought Taylor to meet you, Nonna.'

‘And about time too. Come and sit down.' His grandmother spoke in  accented English and gestured to the chair next to her. ‘I want to see  the woman who finally stole the heart of my favourite grandson.'

‘We're all her favourite grandson.' Knowing how wary Taylor was with  people she didn't know Luca wondered if the barriers would come up, but  she sank into the chair and faced the old lady with a smile.

‘My Italian is terrible. I apologise. And I know how to say that … ' She faltered slightly. ‘Mi dispiace.'

‘No doubt you and Luca are finding other ways to communicate.' The old lady's eyes gleamed and Taylor laughed.

‘His English is fluent.'

‘Yes. He always was the cleverest of my grandsons. He just hid it well.  So his reputation with women doesn't seem to frighten you.'

‘I have a reputation of my own.'

‘So I understand. You're the girl who fired her own mother.' His  grandmother peered at her and Luca cursed under his breath, knowing how  fiercely Taylor guarded her privacy.

‘Nonna-'

‘Yes, I did.' Taylor's voice was steady. ‘She used me as a way of making  money. She didn't care about what I wanted or what I needed. She wasn't  good for me.'

Braced to defend Taylor from a lecture on the importance of family, Luca  watched in surprise as his grandmother took Taylor's hands in hers.  ‘Family should be about giving unselfish support and that is  particularly true of the bond between a mother and child. I'm glad you  had the strength to remove her from your life. You obviously showed  remarkably good judgement for someone that young. So tell me what you  love about my Luca.'

‘Nonna-' Cursing under his breath, Luca tried to interrupt but Taylor answered without hesitation.

‘Lots of things. I love his sense of humour, his strength and the fact  that he's proud of who he is. I envy that. I … ' She hesitated. ‘I want to  be more like that. I'm trying to be more like that. It isn't easy.'

‘You're an actress. Fortunately my grandson is used to drama. He was  raised on it.' His grandmother gave him a meaningful look and Luca  switched to Italian.

‘I don't want to talk about that.'

‘I know. You never do.' Her voice soft, his grandmother reached out to  him and he frowned as he stared down at her wrinkled hands locked  tightly around his.

‘Nonna-'

‘You'll be perfect together. I sense it.' She patted his hands and then  released them. ‘And now you'll stay and eat breakfast with me.'