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An Invitation to Sin
Sarah Morgan
Taylor Carmichael holds one thing precious: the reputation she’s spent years rebuilding.Then one encounter with Corretti lothario Luca, a bottle of chilled champagne and a skin-tight dress and the paps have their shot. Cool, calm and irritatingly aloof, Luca couldn’t care less - splash his face over the papers, he has bigger fish to fry.But Taylor is fuming. Luca had the chance to halt the press and refused. Well, this time she’ll make the headlines work for her.STOP PRESS: BAD BOY LUCA CORRETTI TO WED SCREEN SIREN TAYLOR CARMICHAEL



‘I have a feeling that whatever I do, I will always be in the wrong.’
Taylor felt a flicker of sympathy. ‘I know that feeling.’
‘I’m sure you do. You, Taylor Carmichael, are one big walking wrong.’ His gaze lingered on her mouth. ‘So tell me what else is on your list of banned substances.’
‘Men like you.’
‘Is that right?’ His eyes on hers, he lowered the champagne bottle back into the fountain. Somehow, without her even noticing how he’d done it, he’d moved closer to her. His dark head was between her and the sun and all she could see was those wicked eyes tempting her towards the dark side.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Testing a theory.’ His mouth moved closer to hers and suddenly she struggled to breathe.
‘What theory?’
‘I want to know whether two wrongs make a right.’ His smile was the last thing she saw before he kissed her.

About the Author
USA TODAY bestselling author SARAH MORGAN writes lively, sexy stories for both Mills & Boon
Modern
and Medical Romance
.
As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer and although she took a few interesting detours on the way, she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.
Romantic Times has described her writing as ‘action-packed and sexy’ and nominated her books for their Reviewer’s Choice Awards and their ‘Top Pick’ slot.
Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading, Sarah enjoys music, movies and any activity that takes her outdoors.
Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

An Invitation to Sin
Sarah Morgan





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my editor, Lucy Gilmour, with thanks.
Of all the things we shared over the years,
winning the RITA
was the best. xx

CHAPTER ONE
‘ZACH? WHERE THE hell are you? You’d better not bail on me because I don’t think I can do this without you. Any moment now I’m going to give in and eat carbs and that is going to be the end of this dress. When you get this message, call me.’ The phone almost slipped from her sweaty palm and Taylor gripped it tightly. It was just a wedding. Just a bunch of people she didn’t care about and who certainly didn’t care about her. It shouldn’t be enough to put her in this much of a state. She was only here because the producer of her latest film had insisted on it.
She tried to take a deep breath but the dress wouldn’t allow her chest to expand. The designer had sewn her into it and then told her to send a text when she needed a bathroom break.
The Sicilian heat scalded her bare back and Taylor rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the situation. It was too hot to be sewn into anything and she’d kill before she allowed someone in the bathroom with her, which basically meant she couldn’t eat or drink. Not that she ate much anyway. The discipline instilled by her mother at a young age had never left her. She was used to feeling hungry but lately the cravings had got worse and she knew it made her irritable. She was likely to snap someone’s head off and if that happened she was going to make sure the head belonged to the member of the Corretti family responsible for her current discomfort.
She’d wondered if he’d had done it on purpose. This film was his baby. He’d probably briefed the designer to make sure no man could remove her dress and ruin her big comeback.
Zach was going to laugh when he saw her. She’d lived in jeans for so long and he’d never seen this side of her.
She’d stayed away from this for so long she’d forgotten how much she hated it. She hated the falseness, the agendas hidden behind air kissing and polished smiles.
Resisting the childlike temptation to bite her nails, she glanced at her slick manicure and was depressed to see her hand shaking.
She didn’t dare hold a glass of champagne. She’d spill her drink on her dress. Or, worse, on someone else’s dress and she knew how that would be interpreted.
Irritated with herself for caring what people thought, she dropped the phone into her bag.
It was pathetic to be reacting like this about something so trivial. The past couple of years had taught her what mattered in life. There were people out there with real problems and hers were all of her own making and all in the past.
She’d made bad decisions. Trusted people when she shouldn’t have done, but she was a different person now. Given time, she’d prove it.
And that was what today was all about, of course.
She was supposed to prove it.
No mistakes. No spilled drinks, however innocent the reason.
It didn’t matter if someone threw oil on the path in front of her, she wasn’t allowed to slip.
This was the price she had to pay if she wanted her acting career back—and she wanted it desperately. Desperately enough to star in the publicity circus that was part of the job. This was the price she had to pay for doing what she loved.
The thought had her dragging her phone out of her bag again. ‘Hey, Zach?’ Her voice shook. ‘Just letting you know that the women here are really hot. Even you can’t fail to get laid so hurry up before you miss your chance. And if that isn’t enough to get you here then I can tell you that I can’t pee unless someone removes the stitches from my dress. You are going to laugh yourself sick when you see me. Call, will you?’
She was frightened by how much she needed him here.
Zach was the one who had encouraged her to follow her dream and return to acting, but some dreams came with nightmares attached. If She couldn’t cope with this, how was she going to be able to cope with the attention of being back on a film set? She missed acting, but she didn’t miss this.
‘Taylor!’ Santo Corretti, head of the film production company who was reputed to have slept with every single leading lady of his past five films, strode towards her across the perfectly manicured grass. ‘You’re late.’
‘I was being sewn into the dress you chose.’ She didn’t mention that she’d been outside for half an hour trying to summon the courage to walk through the gates. That was too embarrassing to admit to anyone. She was terrified he’d see through her perfectly groomed exterior to the shivering wreck beneath. ‘In my experience the paparazzi are all the keener if you make them wait and work for it.’
‘Just remember you’re here to promote my film, not yourself. I want publicity and when I say publicity I mean good publicity. I don’t want anyone raking up your past.’
There it was. Just two minutes into a conversation and already the topic was her ‘past.’
There was no escaping it. Her mistakes had been played out so publicly they were branded into her so that now it was the first thing people saw, including him.
Her stomach growled a reminder that it was empty. ‘In a wedding packed full of various members of the Corretti dynasty, I’m sure the press will have plenty of alternative headline options.’ A different version of Taylor might have found him attractive but these days she avoided trouble instead of seeking it out. And she especially avoided the type of trouble that came shaped like a man. She’d learned that lesson and she’d learned it well.
‘Are you blushing?’ His eyes raked her face. ‘Taylor Carmichael, wild child and sex kitten, able to blush when the situation demands it. I’ll take that as a sign of your acting abilities. And I approve. The public loves vulnerability. They might even be prepared to excuse your shocking past.’
‘My past is no one’s business but my own.’ But it was stuck to her, like a dirty mark she couldn’t rub out. ‘So who do you want me to charm first?’
‘Weren’t you bringing someone?’ His eyes scanned the immediate area and Taylor managed to turn clenched teeth into a smile.
‘My friend Zach, but he’s been held up.’ And she was going to kill him.
‘Just remember your job today is to mingle with the people who matter, not nurture your love life.’
‘Zach isn’t—’ She stopped in mid-sentence, wishing she’d stayed silent but already he was nodding approval.
‘Good, because your messy love life has no place on my film set.’
‘My love life isn’t messy.’ She could have told him her love life was non-existent but she didn’t.
‘There are two reasons this film is going to pull in a big audience. The first is because it’s my film—’ his smile was cool ‘—and the second is because you’re starring in it, Taylor Carmichael. People are going to pack out movie theatres to see your big comeback because you’re a train wreck and everyone loves ogling a train wreck. If I’m right about you, they’ll leave knowing you can act. Don’t screw up.’
Despite the heat, she shivered.
This was what she hated. The press intrusion and studios who believed they owned her, not just on set, but in every area of her life. As a young star it had almost broken her, but she wasn’t that naive girl any more.
There was no way she’d let that happen to her again.
There was no way she’d screw it up or let them screw her.
They could fix their damn camera lenses to her ass and they still wouldn’t be able to catch her misbehaving. She was going to be so perfect the press would die of boredom. She was going to rub that dirty mark off her image until she shone like silver in sunshine.
‘So who is the most important person here today? Give me a brief.’ Brisk and professional, she was all business despite the fact the dress was all Hollywood. ‘Who am I supposed to impress?’
‘All of them. Every guest at the wedding is waiting for the chance to talk to you. Taylor Carmichael, finally back from exile. Everyone wants to know the details. The grapevine is buzzing.’
‘You’ve made sure of it.’
‘You’re my biggest asset and I know how to use my assets. Don’t give them details. No interviews until I say so.’
‘No problem.’ She’d pushed her past into a drawer and locked it and she hadn’t opened that drawer for years. The thought that others might be trying to uncover her secrets made her feel sick and his next words didn’t help dispel that feeling.
‘They’ll be persistent. After all, you’re the girl who fired her own mother.’
‘I fired my manager. The fact that she was my mother had nothing to do with it.’ But it should have done. It shouldn’t have been that easy to get rid of a mother, should it?
‘People have a morbid fascination with the way you crashed your own life.’
‘Thanks.’ The pain rose and she pushed it down again, alone with it as she was always alone.
‘So what have you been doing the past few years?’
Taylor watched as a bee hovered over a flower and then carefully landed on the fragile petals. ‘I was keeping a low profile.’
His eyes narrowed at her evasive answer. ‘Just as long as that profile isn’t going to suddenly pop up and hurt my movie.’
‘It won’t.’ She shifted her weight to ease the pain in her feet. She’d forgotten how uncomfortable stilettos were. Still, at least it took her mind off her growling stomach. ‘You can relax. If there is any scandal attached to your movie, it won’t come from me.’
‘It’s your first public appearance since you disappeared.’ His tone was hard. ‘Everyone is waiting for you to slip up, you know that, don’t you?’
‘Then I predict they’re going to have a very boring time.’
‘No drinking.’
‘Is that why you had me sewn into the dress? So I can’t use the bathroom?’
‘The dress shows your body. Your body is one of your assets.’
There had to be some benefit for being permanently starving. ‘And there was me hoping you wanted my acting skills.’ The bitterness leaked into her voice and he narrowed his eyes.
‘I do, but I’m not so naive as to think your looks don’t help. It’s all about the film, Carmichael. Don’t answer any questions about the past. You are the Mona Lisa. All they get is an enigmatic smile.’
‘I can tell you now there is no way Mona would have smiled if she were sewn into her dress. If she were forced to wear what I’m wearing she would have been the Moaning Lisa. And now we’ve established the ground rules, point me towards hell.’
‘Wait. You didn’t answer my question—’ He caught her arm. ‘What have you been doing with yourself for the past two years? You just disappeared. Were you in rehab or something?’
Rehab.
Of course they would think that. It never occurred to anyone that there could be any other explanation for her absence.
‘Sorry,’ Taylor murmured, disengaging her arm from his grip, ‘I’m absolutely not permitted to talk about my past. Your rules.’
‘You’re a beautiful woman. There won’t be any shortage of men interested, not in you but in the potential to make some money from selling a story. You screwed that up before.’
The pain was so intense he might as well have punched her. ‘I was young. Trusting. I’m not any more. And as for men—’ Taylor managed a careless shrug ‘—I can assure you there isn’t a man out there hot enough to tempt me.’
Luca Corretti downed another glass of champagne to numb the boredom of behaving well.
For the past twenty-four hours he’d driven under the speed limit for the first time in his life, declined seven party invitations and made it to bed before dawn. The fact that he hadn’t been alone at the time didn’t count. As far as the outside world was concerned, his behaviour had been impeccable. The only thing he hadn’t done in his quest for instant respectability was kissed a baby and even he wasn’t prepared to descend to those levels of hypocrisy just to impress the board of directors who’d decided his lifestyle wasn’t compatible with running another chunk of the family business. Apparently business flare counted for nothing, he thought savagely, wondering whether he could get away with swapping the champagne for whisky.
And now, to add insult to injury, he was expected to sit through his cousin’s wedding.
Was he the only person who hated weddings? All that happy-ever-after crap that everyone knew was a temporary illusion. Or maybe it was a delusion. Luca didn’t know and he didn’t intend to find out. He was going to be out of here at the first opportunity, preferably with the brunette bridesmaid he’d spotted on his way in.
‘Luca! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?’
Before he could react, Luca was enveloped in soft bosom and a choking cloud of perfume. At any other time he would have thought it wasn’t a bad way to die, but he was conscious that heads were turning and, when heads turned, disapproval was bound to follow. It irritated him that he had to care. ‘Where have I been?’ He disentangled himself. ‘Avoiding you, Penny.’
‘My name’s Portia.’
‘Seriously? No wonder I didn’t remember it.’
She giggled. ‘You are a wicked, wicked man.’
‘So people keep telling me.’ Luca put down his empty glass, trying to think of a method of stress reduction that didn’t involve sex or alcohol.
Portia lowered her eyelashes. ‘About last night—’
Aware that his one indiscretion was about to be made public, Luca removed the drink from her hand and swapped it for orange juice. ‘Last night? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Last night I went to bed with a book.’
She gave a snort of laughter. ‘Well, you certainly turned my pages. I’ll never forget it. How could I?’ Her eyes on his mouth, she leaned towards him. ‘You were amazing. It’s never been like that for me before. You’re a genius.’
‘So I keep telling the board,’ Luca said in a flat drawl. ‘Unfortunately my opinion doesn’t seem to count. For some reason they seem to think activity in the bedroom saps my mental abilities so for the time being I have to prove I can keep my pants zipped.’
‘We could be discreet. leave the wedding.’
‘I love weddings and I love my cousin,’ Luca said immediately. ‘I couldn’t possibly leave until he’s married…married—’ what the hell was her name? ‘—the woman of his dreams.’
‘You love weddings? Honestly?’
‘Weddings never fail to make me cry,’ Luca said truthfully. ‘The thought of two people promising to love each other for ever makes me want to break down and sob like a baby.’
‘Oh. I had no idea you were so romantic.’ Her eyes misted. ‘And I’m so pleased that all those rumours that you hate your cousins are wrong. You’re nowhere near as bad as everyone says.’
‘Bad?’ Luca adopted his hurt expression. ‘I’m a saint compared to some people.’ He hoped she didn’t ask him to name someone as bad as him because he knew he’d struggle.
‘You’re quite a softie—’ she stroked his arm with her fingertips ‘—except in the one area that counts.’ She’d moved closer to him again and Luca stood up, cursing his lack of thought in picking up a guest at the wedding.
What he’d taken to be a few moments of fun, she’d taken to be a future.
Now he had to shake her off before the Corretti board gave him another black mark.
Unfortunately Portia didn’t want to be shaken anywhere. ‘Will I see you tonight, after the wedding?’
‘The definition of a one-night stand, angelo mia, is that it lasts one night.’
‘You were keen enough last night.’ She pouted. ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like me in this dress?’ The words robbed him of breath.
Do I look good, Luca? Do I look better than her? Will he love me if I wear this?
‘Luca?’
He dragged himself out of the black pit of his past and stared into Portia’s over-made-up eyes. ‘You look great,’ he said flatly, relieved when one of the wedding guests shrieked a greeting and Portia was reluctantly dragged away.
Relieved by his narrow escape, he was momentarily distracted by a sheet of blonde hair that hung down the back of a woman standing on the far side of the terrace. People were pressing close, all desperate to get a piece of her, and he shifted slightly to see who she was.
When she finally turned her head, he felt a flash of surprise.
Taylor Carmichael. Well, well.
It cheered him up to know that there was one person present whose reputation was as bad as his.
According to the media, she’d done it all—drink, drugs and partying. And then she’d disappeared for a couple of years. He wondered what she’d been doing with herself and decided it was probably something disreputable. She was one of the few people at this wedding who could make him look saintly. Almost.
Luca watched her across the room and remembered reading that his cousin Santo had recruited her to play the lead in his latest film.
She had the most incredible body. Thinking that all that blonde hair would look good spread over his pillow, he took a step towards her and then remembered that members of the board were watching his every move and waiting for him to step out of line.
Exercising a restraint he didn’t know he possessed, Luca turned away and engaged a suited man in a conversation about the economy.
If Taylor had been able to take a big enough breath, she would have screamed.
‘You poor thing,’ the woman said in a voice sweet enough to rot teeth. ‘This wedding must be so stressful for you.’
‘Why would it be stressful?’ Taylor kept her smile in place and wished Zach would show up. She was 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 movie? She’d made over twenty films, but he’d picked the one she’d filmed at the very lowest point of her life.
She felt cold and hot at the same time. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘But you have the same incredible legs….’ His voice was a soft, sexy purr and his eyes dropped to her breasts. ‘And other parts of you. I remember envying the director—what was his name? Rafaele. He got to see you on and off set, lucky bastard.’
Taylor felt as if someone was choking her. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’
‘Why not? So you dumped him and he sold his story to the press.’ Luca gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Who cares?’
She’d cared.
And she still cared.
She had no choice. The moment she’d accepted the film role, the texts had started. Just like before. It didn’t matter how many times she changed her number, he always managed to track her down. His threats had been part of her life for nine years. Occasionally he went quiet, only to re-emerge when she’d started to hope it had all gone away and he’d finally become bored with tormenting her.
The dress was squeezing her like a boa constrictor trapping its prey. Taylor couldn’t breathe. She tried desperately to change the subject. ‘So what does your immediate past look like? Blonde? Brunette? You’d better tell me so that I can give her a wide berth. I’m not in the mood for dealing with an angry, jealous woman.’
‘Me neither. Why the hell do you think I’m hiding in here?’ He gave an exaggerated shudder and glanced up at the green wall of the maze. ‘I’m hoping the Corretti board don’t have security cameras planted round the grounds. I’m supposed to be behaving myself.’
Despite her stress, she found herself wanting to smile. ‘This is what you’re like when you’re behaving yourself?’
‘I’m positively restrained and it’s killing me. Especially right this moment.’ His eyes lingered on her mouth with blatant interest. ‘I might be about to fall from the wagon. Or roll in the back of the wagon. You and me. Together. Now there’s an interesting thought.’
Taylor felt her heart beat faster.
Against her will, her eyes moved to his mouth too. Firm, sensual and very masculine. There was no doubt in her mind that Luca Corretti would be a skilled kisser. If rumour were correct, he’d certainly had enough practice.
Appalled by her own thoughts, she turned her head away and took a step backwards. ‘It’s a thought that doesn’t interest me in the slightest. I’ll leave you to hide. I hope your past doesn’t catch up with you.’
‘Me too. I don’t suppose you saw her on your way in?’
‘I didn’t see anyone. What does she look like?’
‘Desperate?’
She choked back a laugh. ‘You spent the night with her?’
‘Not the whole night, obviously.’ He looked so horrified by the suggestion that this time she did laugh.
‘Have you ever spent the whole night with a woman?’
‘Cristo, no! My mantra is “Until dawn us do part.” My longest commitment so far is six hours and I was bored by the end of that. You?’
It was uncomfortable to remember the number of times she’d thought a man was serious about her only to discover he was only interested in selling her out to the press. It had been a harsh training ground for independence. ‘I’m not big on romantic commitment.’
He groaned. ‘You should not have told me that.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that makes you my perfect woman.’ That sexy mouth slanted into a charismatic smile. ‘Just don’t tell me you’re addicted to sex and fast cars or I’m doomed.’
Silence stretched between them. They were standing in the dappled shade of the maze but the heat was stifling and oppressive.
Their eyes met and held.
His head lowered towards hers.
And suddenly they heard voices.
Appalled by how close they’d come to kissing, she glanced at him only to find him doubled up with laughter.
Taylor was torn between laughter and panic. The last thing she needed was to be caught with Luca Corretti. No one would believe it was an innocent encounter.
‘Stop panicking, angelo mia, I’ll rescue you.’ Putting his finger to his lips, Luca took her hand in his and forced her to sprint with him deeper into the maze. ‘I am the expert at the great escape. No one knows more about running from women than I do.’
‘What are you doing? I don’t want to be caught running away with you. and don’t pull me—this dress has no give in it.’ She tugged at her hand but he held it firmly, turned another corner and she gave a little gasp because there, in a shaded glade, was a pretty fountain and by the fountain was an open bottle of champagne.
‘No glasses, I’m afraid.’ With a wicked, sexy smile he released her hand and retrieved the bottle. ‘We’ll have to slum it.’
Weak with relief that they’d avoided detection, Taylor shook her head in disbelief as she watched him. ‘How did you—?’
‘How did I get it here?’ Those wide shoulders lifted in a careless shrug. ‘I imported it here under cover of darkness in case of emergencies. This definitely constitutes an emergency. Judging from the look on your face earlier, your need is as great as mine. I’m always willing to help out a fellow sinner in need. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Take a dip in the cool water.’
Taylor looked wistfully at the fountain. ‘I wish I could. This dress is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever worn but sadly it isn’t designed to allow sitting.’
‘So take it off.’
‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. They’ve sewn me into it.’ She caught his look of astonishment and glared. ‘Don’t ask.’
‘All right—’ there was laughter in his eyes ‘—but if you want my opinion I’d say you’ve been stitched up, angelo mia.’
‘Very funny.’
‘I like the idea that you’re sewn into your dress. It could be erotic.’ He prowled around her, his eyes on her body. ‘So what do they expect you to do if you need to have wild, animal sex?’
‘I’m not going to need that.’
He scanned her dress. ‘This is your punishment for not picking something from the House of Corretti. Our clothes would make you feel seductive and feminine. We don’t have to sew our women into their dresses for them to look good. the dress becomes part of the woman.’
She’d forgotten that he ran the fashion house but it explained his effortlessly stylish appearance. Even with his shirt collar open and strands of dark hair falling over his forehead, he looked spectacular.
‘I didn’t pick this dress.’ Heat and hunger made her irritable. ‘I wore what your cousin told me to wear.’
‘He’d never pick anything from my company,’ Luca drawled, ‘it might signify approval and God forbid the rivalry between us should ever die. That fabric isn’t allowing your body to breathe. I could help you with that.’
‘Nice try.’
‘I’ve got moves that would make you weep.’
‘I’m sure you make women weep a lot, but I’m not a crier.’
‘I like you more and more. You could bathe naked in the fountain.’ He reached for the chilled bottle of champagne. ‘Or I could roll this over your skin.’
Her skin was prickling with the heat and she made a sound that was half laugh, half groan. ‘Now you’re torturing me. Talk about something else, before I melt.’ Taylor knew she should walk away but she decided it was safer to wait a few minutes until the people they’d overheard were safely back among the guests. Just five minutes, she promised herself. Five minutes. ‘So who is this woman you’re running from?’
‘I have no idea. Apparently her name is Portia but that was news to me.’
Taylor lifted her hair away from her neck to try and cool herself down. ‘You’re terrible.’
‘Not terrible enough to induce her to dump me, sadly. She was alarmingly difficult to shift.’
‘Some women find bad boys attractive.’
‘And from what I’ve heard, you know a lot about that.’
‘Do you often listen to gossip?’
‘All the time. Gossip makes me laugh.’ The cork flew out of the bottle with a pop. ‘So tell me the truth, Taylor Carmichael? How do you like your men? Welldone, medium or rare?’
‘Rare.’ Sticky and uncomfortable from the heat and the conversation she squirmed, wishing she could dip her toes in the water. ‘So rare I can’t remember when I last touched one.’
‘So I’m looking at a desperate woman.’
‘You’re looking at a controlled woman. I’m no longer a slave to my impulses.’
‘That sounds like the tag line for a good bondage movie. Slave to Her Impulses. The sequel could be Slave to His Impulses. I might be willing to star in that for a price providing you were the leading lady.’ That mocking smile touched the corners of his mouth and he tipped champagne into a glass and held it out to her. ‘Drink. It will help numb the boredom of the wedding.’
Hating the fact that she was even tempted, Taylor reluctantly shook her head. ‘No, thanks. Champagne is on my list of banned substances, particularly on an empty stomach.’
‘Personally I have a taste for banned substances.’ Shrugging, he tilted his head and drank, the sun glinting off his dark hair.
Just for a moment, because he wasn’t looking at her, she looked at him. At those slanting cheekbones, that nose, the olive skin—
It was so long since she’d looked at a man and found him attractive, the spasm of sexual awareness shocked her.
She reminded herself that Luca Corretti was probably the most dangerous man she could possibly have found herself with. ‘I thought you were trying to behave yourself.’
‘This is me behaving myself.’ He took another mouthful of champagne and she laughed in spite of herself, sensing a kindred spirit. A part of her long buried stirred to life.
‘So both of us are making a superhuman effort to behave. What’s your excuse?’
‘I have to prove myself capable of taking charge of another chunk of the family business.’ Underneath the light, careless tone there was an edge of steel and it surprised her because she didn’t associate him with responsibility.
That thought was followed instantaneously by guilt. She was judging him as others judged her, based on nothing but gossip. She was better than that.
‘But you already run a business. I read that you’d turned the House of Corretti around.’
‘I have a flare for figures.’
‘Especially when those figures belong to models?’
He laughed. ‘Something like that. Unfortunately trebling the profits of Corretti isn’t enough for them.’
She had to stop herself reaching for the champagne in his hand. Because she wasn’t able to get out of her dress, she’d avoided drinking and now her throat was parched from the heat. ‘But why do you want to meddle in other parts of the business?’
‘Sibling rivalry.’
‘But you’re all members of the same family. Surely that qualifies you for a seat on the board.’
‘The qualifications for a seat on the board seem to be old age and sexual inactivity.’ He suppressed a yawn. ‘I suppose that’s why they call it a “bored.” Needless to say I’m bombing out big-time. I have a feeling that whatever I do, I will always be in the wrong.’
Taylor felt a flicker of sympathy. ‘I know that feeling.’
‘I’m sure you do. You, Taylor Carmichael, are one, big walking wrong.’ His gaze lingered on her mouth. ‘So tell me what else is on your list of banned substances.’
‘Men like you.’
‘Is that right?’ His eyes on hers, he lowered the champagne bottle back into the fountain. Somehow, without her even noticing how he’d done it, he’d moved closer to her. His dark head was between her and the sun and all she could see was those wicked eyes tempting her towards the dark side.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Testing a theory.’ His mouth moved closer to hers and suddenly she struggled to breathe.
‘What theory?’
‘I want to know whether two wrongs make a right.’ His smile was the last thing she saw before he kissed her.

CHAPTER TWO
WHAT THE HELL was she doing?
Taylor opened her eyes and found herself staring into two dark, slumberous pools of molten male hunger.
As his mouth moved skilfully on hers, desire punched low in her belly and then spread through her body with a speed that shocked her. One minute she was thinking, the next minute she was kissing him back, gripped by a deep, visceral emotion she couldn’t even name.
He seduced her mouth with lazy expertise, his tongue teasing hers with a delicious skill that weakened her legs with frightening speed.
Her stomach twisted. Her body melted. She wanted to stretch luxuriously into the warmth of that hand resting high on her bare thigh.
Her bare thigh?
Horrified, she tried to pull back but her body was weakened by pleasure. ‘My dress—’ The words were swallowed by the heat of his mouth. ‘Luca—’
‘I agree. The dress has to come off.’
‘No.’ She was laughing and appalled at the same time, her hand covering his as she stopped him sliding the fabric upwards. ‘You’ve ripped the stitches.’
‘No, you ripped the stitches,’ he purred, ‘when you wrapped your leg around me.’
‘You pulled my leg round you—we shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t want to be doing this.’
‘Tell that to your pulse rate. It’s revving like the engine of my Ferrari.’
‘I thought you were trying to prove to the board you’re responsible?’
‘I’ll use a condom. Does that count?’
Appalled by how much she wanted to laugh, Taylor locked her hand in the front of his shirt, feeling hard male muscle against the backs of her fingers. ‘I don’t think that’s what they have in mind. You don’t want to take this risk and neither do I. We have to get back to the wedding before the bride comes.’
‘If I have my way you’ll come before the bride.’ Laughing wickedly, he delivered a slow, sensual kiss to the corner of her mouth. ‘Some things are worth taking a risk for and you, Taylor Carmichael, are definitely one of those. You are sexy enough to make me forget all about being good—’ his hand was buried in her hair and his mouth was on her neck ‘—and it really turns me on to know that underneath your icy, composed exterior you are still a bad, bad girl.’
Taylor closed her eyes but that simply intensified the crazy swirl of feelings so she opened them again. ‘You’re wrong. That isn’t who I am.’ It couldn’t be. ‘I don’t want this.’
‘You’re crushing me, dolcezza.’ He was kissing her jaw and she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Think of my poor, delicate ego.’
Nothing about him was delicate. Not the powerful shoulders, nor the rock-hard biceps. He was all muscle and masculinity and Taylor was so desperate for him her whole body ached. ‘I don’t want you.’
‘Yes, you do. You want me as much as I want you but you’re determined to deny your true self.’
‘I’m not denying anything.’ Panicking, she shoved at his chest. ‘Enough! Damn it, Luca—get away from me.’ In the past two years she hadn’t even looked at a man and suddenly here she was, pressed against the hardness of him, her body melting against the heat of his. The chemistry was off the scale and it terrified her. Of all the men she could have found herself with, he was the most dangerous of his species. ‘I’m not that person any more. I’ve changed.’
‘That person? What person? You mean the woman who embraced her life without apology?’
‘The woman who screwed up her life by trusting men like you,’ Taylor snapped, ‘and I’m not doing it again so stay away. I mean it, Luca. If you want to live up to your reputation then go ahead, but I’m not going to let you take me down with you.’
‘Why are you so ashamed of yourself?’
‘I’m not ashamed—’ she spoke so quickly she stumbled over the words ‘—but I’ve grown up.’
‘Grown-ups accept their mistakes instead of running from them.’
Hers haunted her.
The threatening messages never ended.
Her heart was pumping as she backed away from him. ‘Good luck with your future. I hope you manage to convince the board to trust you before you give in to the worst part of yourself and blow it completely.’
‘Ah, but that’s the difference between us, angelo mia.’ Reaching for the bottle of champagne again, he leaned his hips against the fountain, effortlessly sophisticated and insanely sexy. ‘I consider it to be the best part of myself. The fact that no one else appreciates it is their problem, not mine.’
For a brief moment she felt a flash of envy that he was so indifferent to what people thought and then the urgency of her situation propelled her into action and she jammed her feet into her shoes, the movement parting the seam of her dress as far as the waist. Gripping it with her hand, she held the two sides together and hurried through the shadowed corridors of the maze, grateful for the high hedges that concealed her from prying eyes.
If a photographer had been hiding in the maze, or even another guest—one of Luca’s disgruntled women—it would have looked awful and no amount of explaining would have worked.
She would have ruined everything before she’d even started filming.
The thought of how close she’d come to doing just that made her feel sick.
Weak with relief that her reputation was still intact, she pulled her phone out of her bag and texted the designer one-handed.
Ready to be sewn back into my dress. Meet me by the maze.
Luca let her go, that exercise in self-restraint costing him dearly in terms of physical discomfort. He shifted slightly and decided he didn’t dare leave the maze until his hormones had settled down.
Lifting the champagne to his lips, he paused as he spotted a woman approaching down another greenlined tunnel.
‘Luca, there you are!’
Cursing under his breath, he lowered the bottle of champagne. ‘Paula!’
‘It’s Portia.’
‘That’s what I said. The maze distorts sound.’
Her eyes were a little less warm than they’d been earlier. ‘Were you hiding from me?’
‘I didn’t trust myself around you,’ Luca said smoothly. With the taste of Taylor still 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 took a deep breath as the car slowed and shut off all those parts of herself she no longer showed to the world. Maybe everyone at the wedding had been fake, but she was the biggest fake of all. No one saw the real Taylor. She hadn’t even been sure she could access the real Taylor any more until that moment in the maze with Luca.
Pushing that thought aside, she stepped out of the car, telling herself that the media attention would die down after the first day of filming.
Her confidence lasted as long as it took her to notice the black expression on the director’s face. She’d assumed he was meeting her in person out of courtesy and respect for her position on the movie, but one look at his face told her that was a false assumption.
It was a struggle to keep her smile steady. ‘Sorry about the media circus. Hopefully they’ll lose interest soon enough.’
‘Why would they lose interest when you are a never-ending source of juicy stories?’ His voice was cold. ‘Your brief was to create interest in the movie, not in your personal life. The moment Santo told me he wanted you on the project I knew it would be a disaster.’
‘Oh.’ Shaken by that unwelcome news, Taylor spun a few more layers of protection between her feelings and the world and kept it professional. ‘I’d like to think you’d judge me on my performance now, not on something that happened years ago.’
‘The whole world is judging you on your performance at the Corretti wedding.’ His face was scarlet with anger and for the first time Taylor noticed the newspaper clutched in his hand.
‘The wedding never happened, but even I couldn’t be blamed for that, surely?’ Confused, she eyed the newspaper. Did people even still buy those things? If she ever wanted to glance at headlines she just used her phone. ‘If you’re worried about the fact the wedding didn’t go ahead, then don’t be. I’m sure Santo Corretti will deal with it. The publicity might even be good for the film.’
His mouth opened and closed. ‘“Good” that the movie-going public see you as a man-stealer?’
She looked at him blankly. ‘A what?’
‘Just in case you were too drunk to know what you were doing, you can read it for yourself.’
Taylor almost lost her balance as he thrust the paper at her. ‘I don’t drink. And I remember everything.’ An image of Luca’s handsome face floated into her head and she pushed it away as she fumbled with the newspaper.
‘Portia Bateman.’ He enunciated every syllable. ‘Are you going to tell me that name doesn’t mean anything to you?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to tell you because it doesn’t. I’ve never heard of Portia Bateman.’ Taylor’s mind was working in slow motion. Her fingers were clumsy as she unfolded the offending paper. ‘In fact, I don’t know a single person called Portia—’ The words stuck in her mouth as a snippet of conversation rose in her mind.
So who is this woman you’re hiding from?
Apparently her name is Portia.
Driven by a horrible, awful suspicion, she shook her head. ‘Oh, no, no, she can’t have done that. I checked. I looked…’ She muttered the words to herself but the director was watching her keenly.
‘So you do know someone called Portia.’
‘No, I don’t! I’ve never even met her. She’s just someone he…’ She scanned the piece, saw the photograph of a tearful blonde woman under the caption Exclusive—Taylor Carmichael Stole My Man. And there beneath the caption was a photograph of her and Luca. His bronzed hand was plastered against her bare thigh and they were kissing. Not just kissing. Devouring each other. Passion was painted into every line of the photo and she stared at it in dismay.
Her fingers gripped the paper.
The sounds faded around her.
Dizziness washed over her.
She’d congratulated herself on the fact that no paparazzi had caught her moment of indiscretion. She’d forgotten that since the advent of camera phones, everyone was a photographer. And this one had hit the jackpot.
Bathed in horror, Taylor closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening to her. It just couldn’t be. She couldn’t think through the panic. ‘Why did she wait a day to publish this?’
‘She says she offered Luca Corretti the chance to buy the photograph but he just laughed and told her to go ahead and sell whatever story she wanted to print. So she did. She sold her story to the highest bidder.’
He’d laughed?
Taylor felt cold.
What had she done?
The answer to that was nothing, but no one looking at this photograph was going to believe that. She’d dropped her guard for a few moments, that was all, and this was the result.
Keeping her expression neutral, she handed the newspaper back to the glowering director. She wanted to wake up and start the day again. She wanted to wind the clock back. She wanted to never have gone to that damn wedding. Most of all she wanted to kick Luca Corretti in a place that would ensure he’d never seduce a woman again.
‘I understand your concerns and I realise that the story looks bad, but I’m asking you to trust me. This piece isn’t—’ how on earth could she even begin to justify it in a way that would change his expression from sour to sympathetic? ‘—accurate. Please judge me on my acting ability, not the media circus that follows me.’
‘You think that pack of journalists are interested in your acting ability? Your movie comeback is over before it began. Santo Corretti is on his way here now and I can tell you he is not amused. After that wedding fiasco he isn’t in the best of moods as it is and this project means a lot to him. He doesn’t want it hijacked by your never-ending need to grab the headlines.’
He wasn’t interested in an explanation, Taylor thought numbly. The truth wasn’t going to help and a small part of her couldn’t even blame him for that because the picture did look incriminating. It had just been a kiss. Other people kissed all the time and did a whole lot worse and no one knew or cared. She slipped for one moment and the evidence was plastered everywhere and she had her mother to thank for that. She’d ensured the media had been fed a steady diet of Taylor Carmichael from the first moment she’d stuck her child in front of the camera.
Taylor wondered if Luca had even seen the pictures.
He’d probably laugh, she thought bitterly. It wasn’t his naked thigh that was up there for the world to see. It wasn’t his career that was ruined. Even if the board refused to give him more responsibility, he still had the fashion house. And anyway, he didn’t appear to care what the world thought of him. In fact, he seemed to behave in a way designed to invite and encourage salacious headlines.
‘I can tell you that Luca Corretti isn’t involved with that woman. It’s a kiss and tell. He rejected her and she’s getting her revenge.’
‘So you’re trying to tell me that picture is Photoshopped?’
‘No, but—’
‘It’s not you he’s kissing?’
‘Yes, it’s me, but—’
‘It’s not your dress that’s ripped?’
‘The dress isn’t ripped. The stitches came undone.’ Feeling like a fox with a pack of hungry hounds snapping at her heels, Taylor gritted her teeth. ‘They sewed me into it which I knew was a stupid idea right from the start.’
The director looked disgusted. ‘This story is everywhere. Tell me how I’m supposed to deal with this. How am I supposed to focus on making this movie when every single person on my set is looking at the bare thigh of my leading lady and sniggering? Just being this close to you is making me feel dirty.’
The whole world is going to know you’re dirty, Taylor.
Her breathing grew shallow.
Anger burst free inside her. This was all Luca’s fault. Because he didn’t care what people thought of him, he’d exposed her. He’d stripped her, almost literally, with no thought to the consequences. If he hadn’t been so careless with that Portia woman’s feelings, this would never have happened.
‘The press have embellished this to make it look bad, but it isn’t how it seems.’
‘The truth doesn’t even matter.’ The director made a hand gesture to signify two minutes to someone over her shoulder. ‘I can’t work in this circus. You’re off the movie.’
Those words turned Taylor’s limbs to water. ‘What? No!’ Composure deserted her. She wanted to act. More than anything else she wanted to act. It was all she wanted to do.
‘You can’t do that. You can’t get rid of me because of what the media say. You can’t give them that much power and control. I need to speak to Luca. Give me a chance to sort this out.’
But he’d already moved on. People were shouting things at him and his eyes were on the phone in his hand as he read a text. ‘You can’t sort this out. Wherever you go, trouble follows. It’s always about you and never about the film. You’re finished.’
Furious at the injustice of it, Taylor straightened her shoulders. ‘That’s Santo Corretti’s decision, not yours.’
‘Fine. He can tell you himself.’ Standing back, the director gestured towards the low, expensive sports car that had just parked behind her.
Taylor closed her eyes. This was a nightmare. She had to do something but nothing she said was going to rub out that picture of Luca with his hand on her thigh.
She forced herself to stand still as Santo strode towards her, his face black as the sky before a storm.
Judging from the little she’d read about the aborted wedding, he’d had a worse weekend than she had.
‘It isn’t how it seems,’ she said, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of her voice. Part of her hated herself for having to try and excuse herself but she was willing to do anything to keep the part. ‘She’s one of his exes and she obviously followed him and spied on him.’
‘And what were you and Luca doing together in the first place?’
‘I was—’ She broke off, suddenly furious with Luca. If he’d just paid the woman they wouldn’t be in this mess. Her mind raced ahead. She’d make him pay in another way. ‘We were meeting each other. You told me I couldn’t have a relationship, so we were trying to be discreet.’
‘Luca is never discreet. He does exactly what he wants to do with whomever he wishes to do it. He doesn’t care.’
‘But I do, and he respected that. He understands what the press are like and he wanted to protect me.’
Santo shot her a look of undiluted incredulity. ‘Your date at the wedding was some guy called Zach. I heard you on the phone.’
‘And you heard me tell you that Zach isn’t my boyfriend,’ she said truthfully. ‘He’s just a friend.’ And by that she meant that he was allowed one layer closer to the real her than most people.
The truth was she trusted no one.
‘So you were using him to cover the fact that you’re with Luca? You’re trying to convince me that you and my cousin are an item?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you.’
‘My cousin isn’t capable of a relationship.’
‘I think he was as surprised by how quickly our relationship developed as I was. After what you said to me, I made him promise to keep it a secret. I couldn’t change the way we felt about each other, but I thought I could stop you finding out. There is nothing sleazy about that kiss.’ Making a last-ditch attempt to halt the free fall of her career, she shot a look at the director. ‘It was two people sharing a special moment and that woman exploited that. We love each other. Now can we move on?’
‘Love?’ The director started to laugh. ‘You expect us to believe that nonsense? Today it’s Luca Corretti—who will it be tomorrow?’ Perhaps if he hadn’t sounded so contemptuous, she wouldn’t have said it but she was so upset at his implication that she was unlovable, the words fell out of her mouth.
‘It won’t be anyone tomorrow,’ Taylor heard herself say, ‘because I’m in love with Luca and he’s in love with me. We’re getting married.’ People used her all the time. Why shouldn’t she use someone else for a change? And since this was all Luca’s fault, he was the lucky candidate. ‘We didn’t want to say anything on Saturday and draw attention away from the bride and bridegroom.’ She couldn’t for the life of her remember their names. ‘We were trying to be unselfish which is why we sneaked a quiet few minutes together.’ For a few seconds she had the satisfaction of seeing the pair of them silenced. She held her breath, knowing that they were never going to believe her. Never.
Santo was the first to break the silence. ‘If my cousin were engaged, I would have heard.’
‘It’s a secret.’ So much of a secret that even Luca didn’t know about it. Her insides clenched as she realised the enormity of what she’d done. ‘No one knew but us. And because we’re keeping it a secret, obviously we had to be discreet.’ She snapped her mouth shut before she could trip over her own tangle of lies. ‘And now I’d be grateful if neither of you would mention it again. As far as the media is concerned, I’m single. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’
The director let out a stream of profanities and raised the palms of his hands. ‘I can’t work with this. If you want me on this project, I demand another actress.’
Santo stood in silence, a frown on his brow.
Taylor felt sick. So that was it. It was all over. She was just about to slide back into her car and hide her humiliation behind tinted glass when Santo spoke.
‘Taylor stays on this project.’
The director’s eyes narrowed. ‘If she stays, I go.’
‘Then go.’ With a total absence of sympathy, Santo nodded his head at Taylor. ‘We’ll talk to the press and then get on with the job we’re here to do.’
‘You just fired the director.’ Stunned by his unexpected support, Taylor could hardly speak. ‘And yesterday you told me to be discreet and not say anything to the press.’
‘That was when I thought you were likely to stir up a scandal. Taylor Carmichael engaged to Luca Corretti isn’t scandal, it’s news. It will stop the media focusing on your past and it will shift attention away from my family’s wedding fiasco. Don’t look so shocked—’ he placed the flat of his hand on her bag and guided her towards the press pack ‘—you’ve finally done something right. Relax, you still have a job.’
There were only two thoughts in her head. The first was that when Santo found out the truth, he’d fire her anyway, and the second was that Luca Corretti was going to kill her.

CHAPTER THREE
‘I’VE BEEN CALLED before the board, no doubt to answer for my sins. This promises to be a gripping meeting, Jeannie, the general tone of which will be that I’m a very bad boy who can’t possibly be trusted with the company even though my brother has just very inconveniently gone AWOL and another of my disgruntled cousins is trying to take over our flagship hotel.’ Hiding his bitterness beneath layers of boredom, Luca leaned back and put his feet on his desk, earning himself a reproving look from his long-suffering PA.
‘You could try not to be so shocking all the time.’
‘Where would be the fun in that?’
‘I’m just saying it might help if you were more…’ She hesitated and he lifted an eyebrow to prompt her.
‘More?’
‘More conventional.’
‘Conventional?’ Just saying the word made Luca shudder. ‘In the fashion business that word is death. And talking of death, whose idea was it to put lilies in my office? Get rid of them. They remind me of funerals.’
She put a strong cup of coffee in front of him and glanced at the extravagant display of fresh flowers that dominated the centre of the table he used for internal meetings. ‘I’ll have them changed. Gianni is having a meltdown. He wants to know if you’ve approved the location for the fashion shoot? The agency is driving him mad. He wanted me to remind you the theme is nautical, using unexpected twists on classic elements.’
Luca rolled his eyes. ‘Roughly translated from designer-speak to normal language, that means the sea, yes?’
‘The agency wants to use your yacht but Gianni wants something more edgy.’
‘I don’t want them on my yacht. It’s my bolt hole from press madness.’
‘Talking of press madness, they’ve been calling all morning about your latest—’ she cleared her throat ‘—indiscretion. Is there anything you want me to say to them?’
‘Yes. You can tell them to mind their own business.’ Irritated, Luca swung his legs off the desk. ‘Don’t look so shocked about it. You’ve worked for me for ten years. I know nothing shocks you.’
‘I just get upset when I read bad things about you.’ Jeannie’s voice was fierce and Luca frowned slightly.
‘Don’t let it bother you. I don’t.’
‘That’s why I let it bother me. One of us has to care, and it doesn’t seem to be you. I could strangle that Portia woman with my bare hands. How dare she tell those terrible lies.’
‘Ah, yes, Portia. I underestimated her.’ He wondered how Taylor was coping with the publicity and then shrugged it off. If anyone was capable of dealing with a media feeding frenzy, it was Taylor Carmichael. Her past was almost as messy as his. ‘The lawyers are dealing with it. I’m not worried.’
‘I’m worried enough for both of us. Between you and your brother, you keep the media going—’
‘Talking of my brother, I don’t suppose anyone has heard from him since he ran off with the bride?’ Shaking with laughter, Luca checked his phone for messages while Jeannie gave a despairing shake of her head.
‘It isn’t funny! What about poor Alessandro?’
‘“Poor” Alessandro had a narrow escape. He’s been saved from a miserable marriage followed by an expensive divorce. He should be celebrating his good fortune.’
‘You don’t really think that.’
‘I try to think about marriage as little as possible.’
‘Your parents were married for years.’
Luca stilled. If there was one thing worse than thinking of marriage in general then it was thinking of his parents’ marriage. ‘Did I miss the memo about introducing boring topics into office conversation?’
‘Sorry.’ Jeannie flushed. ‘But where do you think Matteo is?’
Luca shrugged. ‘Holed up somewhere enjoying wild honeymoon sex with his cousin’s almost-bride, I suppose, which makes it all the more galling that the board are proving so intransigent. They need a Corretti to run the company in his absence to stop that snake Angelo getting his claws on the company. They should be embracing me.’
‘Judging from the pictures of you and Taylor Carmichael, they probably think there’s been more than enough embracing.’
Taylor Carmichael.
He could still feel the silk of her hair against his fingers and the soft slide of her tongue against his mouth. In those few moments before she’d pushed him away, they’d created enough heat and energy to power a small country. The blaze of sexual chemistry had shocked him as much as her, the only difference was that he hadn’t wanted to fight it.
Before he could respond to Jeannie, the phone on his desk rang and she leaned across to answer it.
‘Signor Corretti’s office—no, he is currently out of the office….Which rumour?’ She paused, her calm professionalism visibly disintegrating as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone. She lifted shocked eyes to Luca. ‘No, I don’t have any comment to make….Yes, I’ll tell him you rang.’ Her hand shook as she replaced the phone and it immediately rang again. Luca clamped his hand over hers as she reached for it.
‘Leave it—it’s just the press wanting more details on that kiss. Don’t feed the frenzy.’
‘They didn’t want details of the kiss.’ Jeannie looked at him nervously. ‘You’re not the sort of guy who would shoot the messenger, are you?’
His radar for trouble on full alert, Luca released her hand and leaned back in his chair. ‘That,’ he drawled slowly, ‘depends on the message.’
She swallowed hard. ‘They want to know when you’ll release a statement on your engagement.’
‘I’m sure when he said that no one was to disturb him, he didn’t mean me.’ Taylor shot a dazzling smile at the security guard who was left blinded.
‘Well, er, he hasn’t mentioned you as such, Miss Carmichael—’
‘Of course he hasn’t. We agreed not to speak about each other.’ She stepped closer and lowered her eyelashes just enough to ensure he wouldn’t be able to think about anything but her all day. ‘If he talked about me, our relationship wouldn’t be a secret, would it?’
‘I suppose not.’ Sweating, he slid a finger around his collar. ‘Knowing Mr Corretti, I’m sure he’ll be only too pleased to see a beautiful woman walking into his office.’
‘Good.’ Striding into the express elevator before he could change his mind, Taylor hit a button and closed the doors. Safely inside, she switched off her megawatt smile and checked her reflection in the mirror.
She was going to kill the bastard.
First she was going to rip his elegant suit from his perfect body and then she was going to injure him in places that would ensure he’d remember her for ever.
It had proved difficult to persuade Santo to give her a few hours off from filming, but in the end he’d decided that they’d be more productive if they dealt with the media first.
Taylor hadn’t revealed that the only person she was going to be ‘dealing with’ was Luca.
The doors opened and Taylor stepped out into a contemporary office space like no other she’d seen. The walls were lined with photographs. Famous models in various poses pouted at her, their razor-sharp cheekbones accentuated by the powerful beam of sunlight pouring from an atrium above. It was a shrine to beauty and elegance.
The wide glass reception desk was unoccupied and she looked through the open door beyond and saw Luca Corretti at the same moment he saw her.
Their eyes locked.
Just for a moment she was back in the maze with his hand pressed to her bare thigh but then she remembered that was the reason she was here and her temper spurted.
‘Well, well—’ his sarcastic drawl carried across the open space between them ‘—it’s my fiancée. What an unexpected pleasure, angelo mia.’
‘In the circumstances, how could I stay away?’ Head held high, in full battle mode, Taylor stalked across the marble floor and into his office wondering how on earth they were going to unpick this mess.
She was going to kill him and how was she going to explain that to the press?
‘Leave us, Jeannie,’ Luca ordered in a silky tone. ‘It’s not every day a man gets engaged. I need to savour the moment. I might even indulge in desk sex so better not come in without knocking.’
The woman sent him a troubled look and then retreated from the office and closed the door behind her.
Taylor went straight into attack mode. ‘How dare you? How dare you play with my life just because you don’t care about yours! You should have paid that woman.’
‘If I paid every woman who threatened to take stories of me to the press I’d be broke.’
‘Maybe you should stop seducing women and then the problem would go away!’ She paced the length of his office, her attention caught by yet more black-and-white photographs on the walls. ‘You have photographs of women everywhere. You just can’t help yourself, can you?’
‘I run a fashion house. What do you expect?’ He looked effortlessly sophisticated in a suit designed to accentuate his physique and dark good looks. ‘Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I couldn’t care less whose picture you have on your wall or who you kiss.’
‘Really? Isn’t that rather a liberal attitude for someone who only recently decided I was the only man in the world for her?’
Livid by his flippant response, she glared at him. ‘Right now the only thing standing between you and death is the fact that I don’t want more negative headlines.’
Dark brows rose above eyes that glinted with mockery. ‘So much passion so early in our relationship. Not that I’m complaining. I love a woman who isn’t afraid to show emotion.’
‘Damn you, Luca, are you ever serious? Do you know how hard I’ve worked over the past few years to get people to take me seriously? This was a fresh start and then you—you…’ Her hands curled into fists and she turned away from him, hating the loss of control. Hating the attraction she felt towards him. Hating him.
‘And then I—what?’
‘You know what! You—you kissed me. You had your hand on my—’ Just thinking of the photograph made her close her eyes in horror. ‘It looked as if we’d—’
‘Do you ever finish your sentences? You’re like a walking crossword and I’m too lazy to fill in the blanks.’
‘I’m—I’m just so mad with you.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it will be good for you to express honest emotion once in a while.’
‘Don’t mess with me, Luca.’ Furious, she stabbed her finger into his chest and then wished she hadn’t because all she felt was muscle. ‘Be careful. I haven’t eaten carbs for three months and I’m always dangerous when I’m hungry.’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m mad with you too, and my diet is fine. My taste has never run to women who suppress their real selves. And now let’s get to the point.’ The snap of his voice raised the tension in the room several more notches. ‘Why the hell did you announce that we’re engaged?’
‘Because, thanks to you, I was about to be fired from the job I haven’t even started yet!’
That drew a frown from him. ‘Why would you be fired?’
‘Because the director refused to work with someone with my reputation.’
He looked bemused. ‘That’s crazy. So you like sex and you’re not afraid to show it. What’s wrong with that?’
Her cheeks burned. ‘What’s wrong is that I want the focus to be on my skills as an actress, not on my ability to make a fool of myself with a man.’
She’d done that before and she’d lived with the mistake ever since.
He’d left another message on her phone but this time she hadn’t even opened it.
It was a relief to be in Sicily, far from California.
Far from him.
Luca was watching her curiously. ‘So you are afraid to show it. You really need to get over that. Who you choose to kiss in your own time is no one’s business but your own.’
She felt like telling him it wasn’t that simple. That a kiss could be used and used again. ‘I didn’t choose to kiss you. You grabbed me.’
‘I don’t remember you struggling.’ He was maddeningly cool. ‘It takes two people to make a kiss look like that, tesoro.’
‘I never would have started it.’
‘But you finished it.’ His voice was low and threaded through with a sensuality she found off-the-scale disturbing. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. It was an understandable slip.’
‘You’re so full of—’
‘Now, now, Miss Carmichael—’ he placed his fingers over her lips ‘—you don’t want to give the press another quote, do you? I’m sure they have a lens trained at this office even as you shriek.’
‘You’re finding this funny. I don’t even know why you did it—why did You do it? Why the hell did you kiss me?’
He gave a careless shrug. ‘You were there.’
‘That’s all it takes for you to kiss a woman? She just has to be there?’
‘Unlike you, I don’t try and deny my true nature.’
‘Nice to know you’re discriminating.’
‘Have you played Katerina?’ One dark eyebrow lifted. ‘Taming of the Shrew? Because you’d be a natural. Do I need to remind you that you kissed me back?’
‘I was stressed out. I hadn’t eaten for two days.’
He smiled. ‘So that was why you were so hungry for me.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself.’
‘Why not? A moment ago you were telling the world you intend to spend the rest of your life with me.’
‘I didn’t know what else to say.’ Taylor paced over to the window of his office, her heels tapping on the floor. ‘I don’t need all the adverse publicity right now. It was a spur of the moment thing. I didn’t even think people would believe me, but they did. Apparently people are captivated by the thought of us together.’
‘Of course they are. I’m the man who has publicly said on numerous occasions that he never intends to settle down and you’re the wild child with a bad attitude. It’s a match made in hell. How can the public not be fascinated? If you’d kept quiet the story would have died by tomorrow. As it is, you’ve ensured it’s kept alive.’

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