An Invitation to Sin - By Sarah Morgan Page 0,24

‘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