An Invitation to Sin - By Sarah Morgan Page 0,4
going to need someone to lend her a jacket when her stupid dress split. ‘It’s the perfect opportunity to meet interesting people.’ Unfortunately you’re not one of them.
‘But so much temptation for someone like you.’ The woman eyed the glass of water in Taylor’s hand. ‘I suppose you don’t dare even take a sip of champagne in case you undo all the good work and lose control. It must be impossibly hard given the circle you move in.’
‘It isn’t hard.’
‘What stops you drinking?’
The knowledge that she couldn’t pee without the assistance of a seamstress. ‘I’m going to be filming twelve hours a day. My focus is on my work.’ And she couldn’t wait. She knew that once she was playing that role, she’d be lost in it. Acting was all she wanted to do. And not just because it meant she could escape the empty, meaningless circus of her life.
Another woman pressed closer. ‘I can’t believe you’re back in circulation. You just vanished off the face of the earth. You have to tell us whether those stories about you were true.’
They circled her like wolves waiting to pounce on a carcass. And she was the carcass.
Taylor laughed inwardly. Given the amount of weight she’d lost in preparation for this part, she almost was a carcass.
The moment filming was over she was going to rush to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts and indulge her carb fantasy but until then she had to play the game.
She couldn’t keep this up for much longer. She was going to punch someone, split her dress and end up naked.
Exhausted, Taylor pressed a button on her phone and made it ring. ‘Oh, excuse me—’ with an apologetic smile, she pulled it out of her bag ‘—I just have to take this call. So good to meet you. I’ll see you inside the chapel in a little while!’ And I hope you both choke on a canapé.
Phone held to her ear, talking to herself in a bright tone, she walked to the edge of the terrace, aware of Santo’s eyes watching her every move.
As far as she was concerned, he could watch all he liked. She wasn’t going to slip up.
She could do this. All she needed was a quick breather and then she’d sit somewhere at the back of the church, away from all the intrusive questions.
Bypassing the groups of people gathered on the terrace, she glanced around her to find somewhere less populated. Spying the English garden and, beyond that, the maze, she increased her pace. Perfect. What better place than a maze to find shade and peace?
The high hedges gave much-needed protection from the burning Sicilian heat and the curious stares of the other guests. Taylor slipped off her shoes, moaning with relief as the soft grass cooled her throbbing feet. Breathing deeply, she listened to the sound of the birds. Live in the moment, wasn’t that what Zach had taught her? Block everything else out. It’s all about now.
Slowly, her pulse rate slowed. The knot in her stomach eased, leaving only the hunger pangs that had been her constant companion since she’d signed up for the role. She was just congratulating herself on being back in control when she turned a corner and walked straight into a man.
‘Cristo, can’t you take a hint?’ Hard hands gripped her and kept her on her feet but his tone was ice cold and Taylor stared at him, disorientated.
‘What hint?’ She recognised him instantly. Luca Corretti, billionaire playboy, occasionally described as Sicily’s biggest tourist attraction and absolutely the last man in the world she would have chosen to be alone with given her current objective of staying out of trouble.
‘Mi dispiace, chicca.’ His smile was disturbingly attractive. ‘I thought you were someone else.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ Taylor said coldly, ‘so if you’d just let go of me, I can carry on walking and you can carry on hiding or whatever it is you’re doing.’
‘I’m dodging my past.’
Him too? ‘I would have thought that was an ambitious objective for someone with your reputation.’
‘Actually, I was talking about my immediate past. Last night.’ His smile held no hint of apology. ‘And you’re not exactly in a position to judge, are you, Taylor Carmichael? Your past is every bit as dirty as mine.’
His use of her name made her insides lurch. ‘You know who I am.’
‘Of course. I’ve even seen you semi-naked.’ Those eyes gleamed dangerously. ‘That movie about the teenage runaway? God, you were sexy.’
Why did he have to pick that