An Invitation to Sin - By Sarah Morgan Page 0,9
on his lips, he felt no inclination to take her up on her less than subtle invitation. ‘Last night should not have happened. You’re a beautiful woman but I need to behave myself.’
Her eyes narrowed and she stared down the path where Taylor had recently disappeared. ‘Really? So you’re telling me women are off the agenda today?’
Something in her tone made Luca wonder if she’d seen Taylor but he decided that wasn’t possible. No one could have sneaked up on them without him noticing.
‘Sadly, yes. What we shared was very special—’ he pulled out one of his stock phrases ‘—but I can’t risk anything else at this point which is killing me because last night was one of the best of my life.’
‘All right. If that’s the way it has to be then so be it.’ She looked at him for a long moment, as if she were working something out. ‘You’re never going to forget me, Luca Corretti.’
‘Of course I’m not.’
‘And you’ll never again forget my name.’
‘It’s your own fault for being beautiful—I take one look at your face and my memory goes.’
Three minutes, Luca thought idly, glancing to the place he’d last seen Taylor and missing the jealous glint in the woman’s eye. That was how long it would take him to forget her.
Forty-eight hours later Taylor sat in the back of a limo as she was driven to the docklands for filming to begin. She’d spent the entire previous day locked in her hotel room checking every online newspaper and gossip column for pictures, terrified that her momentary lapse with Luca might have been captured on camera. When she realised she’d got away with it she’d been weak with relief.
From now on she was going to keep well away from men like Luca Corretti.
Never again would she do something that gave a man power over her.
But even as she thought that, she knew that her response hadn’t been driven by stupidity but by a raw attraction so strong nothing could have prepared her for it.
And it wasn’t just his physical appeal that had caused her downfall, it had been something else. Something layered beneath the surface of masculine perfection. An honesty that presented a stark contrast to the atmosphere of falseness that had hovered over the wedding. Yes, that was it. Luca Corretti embraced everything he was. He took what he wanted without explanation or apology and that was—she struggled to describe it—refreshing.
She felt a twinge of envy and dismissed it instantly. She didn’t want to be like Luca, a slave to her emotions. Her life had been so much happier since she’d been in control.
‘We’ll be there in ten minutes, Miss Carmichael.’
The voice of her driver came through the intercom and excitement buzzed through her. She couldn’t wait to be back on a film set. She was going to throw herself into her work and forget about her narrow escape. And forget about Luca.
Blocking out disturbing memories of that kiss, Taylor leaned her head back against the seat, finally able to think back to the wedding and laugh. What a crazy day. She still couldn’t believe that Luca’s brother Matteo had run off with the bride before she’d made it as far as the altar. Bad behaviour was obviously in the DNA, but she was grateful for that because all the attention that had been focused on her had immediately switched to the Corretti family.
She shook her head at the irony of it.
And Santo Corretti had been worried about her causing a scandal.
As the car approached the docklands area, she noticed the pack of photographers pressed against the security fence and her heart sank.
There were so many of them, no doubt all waiting for her to screw up on her first day and give them a nice juicy headline.
Was it going to be like this all the time?
Her phone buzzed with a text and she checked it quickly, her heart rate doubling when she saw it was from Rafaele.
New phone. New number. And still he had no trouble contacting her.
She hesitated and then opened the text.
Good luck today. Enjoy Sicily.
Flinging the phone back in her bag, she rubbed her forehead with fingers that shook. She felt as if she’d been dipped in iced water. He wasn’t wishing her luck, he was telling her that he knew exactly what she was doing and where she was doing it.
She was never going to be rid of him. Never.
Knowing that she couldn’t afford to think of him now, she