An Invitation to Sin - By Sarah Morgan Page 0,64

for compliments or press him for reassurance that she’d be able to do the job.

It occurred to him that not once in all the time they’d spent together had she asked for reassurance about her appearance. In fact, she hadn’t asked anything of him except to be her fake fiancé.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. ‘I just want you to be yourself. Taylor Carmichael.’

‘Which version?’ She was back to being her usual guarded self and although he knew he should have been relieved, he missed the laughing version of the night before.

‘The real version. You’re edgy, modern, strong. Sure of who you are. It shows in the way you carry yourself, in the way you deal with people and in the way you face the world. You’re a self-sufficient high-achiever who has learned to depend on no one but yourself because everyone you’ve ever met has used you so you’re not going to let that happen again.’ He kept his eyes on the road as he described how he saw her. ‘You were let down by your mother, by your father and by a man you trusted and every secret you ever had was blown over the pages of newspapers. It’s left you vulnerable, but it’s also given you strength because there’s no way you’re ever going to let anything like that happen to you again. You’re so afraid of being hurt again you shut the world out and hide behind the tough-girl act. That’s what I want to see when you’re wearing the clothes.’

She was staring at him, her face pale. ‘I—I’ve told you so much. Too much.’ Her voice was a whisper. ‘Why did I do that?’

‘I don’t know.’ He was asking himself a similar question. ‘Because you trusted me.’

‘I don’t trust anyone.’ Her lips were bloodless and it took no effort to read her mind.

‘You’re worried I’ll sell your story to the media?’ He was surprised by how much that hurt. ‘Come on, Taylor—’

‘You’ve remembered every detail. Every single detail I’ve ever told you.’

‘Because I’m a good listener.’

‘Why? So that you don’t forget the juicy parts?’

‘You know me better than that.’

‘I don’t know you at all. You haven’t let me know you.’ She was stammering in her panic. ‘I have no idea what you’re capable of when you’re upset or annoyed and I’ve trusted you with information I would never have given to anyone else.’ She pressed shaking fingers to her face and breathed deeply while Luca swore under his breath and tried to grab hold of a situation that was fast spinning out of control.

But they’d arrived at the docklands and already the usual crowd of journalists pressed around the car.

Luca yanked on the handbrake. ‘We need to talk.’

‘I’ve talked.’ There was no missing her emphasis on the word. ‘The problem is you haven’t and I’m not interested in a one-sided relationship.’ Before he could respond Taylor was out of the car, tall, long-limbed and beautiful as she walked gracefully to where the modelling shoot was to take place.

He wanted to remind her their relationship was fake. That confidences had no part in what they were doing here. But the whole thing was a confused mess in his head and there was no opportunity to sort it out because the photo shoot was already under way.

And she was as professional during the shoot as she was with her acting. She listened to what was required and worked her heart out and by lunchtime Luca knew that what he had was perfect. Even the exacting, hypercritical Gianni was happy.

He had no idea how Taylor felt because the mask was back up and he knew it was his fault. Not only had he stripped away her protective shell and frightened her, he’d shut her down when she’d asked him a personal question.

I don’t know you at all. You haven’t let me know you.

Her words stayed with him as he walked into the boardroom an hour later. Prepared for something close to adulation from them for the way his ideas were already increasing occupancy and profits, Luca opened the door and was greeted by stony silence. A few of the older members of the board avoided looking at him.

Deciding that this was a day that definitely wasn’t going his way, Luca strolled to the head of the table and braced himself for trouble. ‘Well, this isn’t quite the fun afternoon I was anticipating.’ He kept his tone light but he was surveying the room, trying to identify