An Invitation to Sin

by Sarah Morgan

  A female journalist standing nearby reached into her bag for lipgloss and Taylor felt the anger start to boil inside her.

  This was all his fault.

  Not only had he created this whole situation with his careless lack of concern for other people, but he’d refused to go along with her plan to bail them both out. And now he had the nerve to turn up here to make sure she’d confessed to her crime in public.

  Her anger grew as he vaulted from the car and strolled towards the journalists with indolent grace. ‘So maybe I broke the speed limit just a little bit—’ playing to the crowd, he gave a wicked smile that held no trace of regret or apology ‘—but some things are worth rushing for and a beautiful woman is one of those.’

  Furious that he could be so relaxed when her life was in shreds, Taylor elbowed her way through the journalists, who retreated in fascination, their professional sensors telling them that they were about to witness something worth writing about.

  Taylor didn’t care. She was off the film anyway. How much worse could it get?

  ‘Luca Corretti, you are the most—’

  His hands cupped her face and his mouth covered hers. His kiss was hot, explicit and devastating, and when he finally lifted his dark head enough for her to speak, the only sound she was capable of was a moan. Because there was no way she was moaning in public, she stayed silent.

  ‘Sorry, tesoro, you were saying?’ Slumberous dark eyes looked down at her. ‘You wanted to tell me that you missed me, no? That I am the sexiest man in the world? The most clever? The most amusing?’ Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he turned to face the journalists, his smile disarming. ‘She is struck dumb.’

  A ripple of laughter spread across the crowd.

  Taylor was so shaken by that kiss, she couldn’t focus. All she wanted to do was lock her hands in that glossy dark hair, pull his head down to her and kiss him again. And again—

  ‘Luca—’

  ‘Mi dispiace…’ Turning towards her, he leaned his forehead against hers and smiled that smile that made women forget how to put one leg in front of the other to walk away. ‘Forgive me for not making it here on time. I am a rat. A total bastard. I don’t deserve you.’

  She stared at him, eyes locked with his, hypnotised by the sheer power of the chemistry. It wrapped itself around her like metal bands, holding her trapped.

  A sea of excited questions washed up against the wall of their own private sexual cocoon.

  ‘So it really is true?’ A female journalist thrust a microphone towards them. ‘Luca, you always said you weren’t the marrying kind. What’s changed?’

  Taylor wanted to ask the same question. ‘Yes,’ she muttered through clenched teeth, ‘do tell us what changed.’ But relief spread through her, taking with it her anger.

  He was going to play along. For now, she was safe and that was all that mattered. They could work out the detail later.

  His fingers stroked her face gently. ‘I realised there is nothing I want more than to be engaged to Taylor.’

  Another journalist stepped closer. ‘You’ve just broken a million women’s hearts.’

  ‘I’m only interested in one woman’s heart.’ He leaned closer to her, his mouth by her ear. ‘How long am I supposed to keep this up?’

  She went from wanting to punch him to wanting to laugh out loud and not just because she was relieved he’d decided to go along with her plan. She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips along the dark shadow of his jaw. ‘Mess this up and I’ll sentence you to death by a thousand Portias.’

  ‘Portia?’ His tone was innocent. ‘I’ve never met anyone called Portia.’

  To the watching journalists it looked like a romantic exchange and she heard someone sigh wistfully.

  ‘All right, that’s enough romance for one day,’ Luca murmured under his breath, easing away from her and addressing the crowd. ‘All this attention is very distracting for my…fiancée.’

  Taylor wondered if she was the only one who noticed he stumbled over the word. ‘Yes. I need to get on with my job. So if there are no more questions—’

  ‘Tell us about the proposal. And why aren’t you wearing a ring?’

  Taylor froze. Deprived of sleep, her brain failed to think of a response but Luca pushed his hand into his pocket and there, dangling from his fingers and sparkling in the Sicilian sunshine, was a huge diamond ring.

  ‘I chose an extra big one,’ he drawled, ‘to hold her in place so she can’t run away when I misbehave. And also so that when she’s angry with me she can throw it and knock me unconscious. I’ve been keeping it with me because we hadn’t exactly planned to go public with this today.’

  Wondering where he’d managed to find such an incredible ring at such short notice, Taylor allowed him to slip it onto the appropriate finger and smiled her most romantic smile while the female journalists gazed on with envy and greed.

  ‘Taylor, can you tell me in a single word how you felt when he gave you that ring?’

  That was easy enough. ‘It was a moment beyond words. I was speechless.’

  ‘And that was the best possible response because speechless is how I prefer my women.’ At his most shocking, Luca kept her hand tightly in his and ploughed his way through the flock of press back to his Ferrari. ‘And now if you’ll excuse us, we are going to seek some privacy to do, er, to do those things engaged people do. Santo, when you find a director with balls, call us.’

  She was still on the film.

  Weak with relief, Taylor closed her eyes, leaned her head against The passenger seat and let the wind blow through her hair. Beneath her she felt the power of the engine and smiled. the car was a glorious, sinful expression of luxury and speed and part of her just wanted to push him aside, grab the wheel and slam her foot to the floor. She wanted to swing round tight hairpin bends and drive the car to the edge in every sense of the word.

  But Taylor Carmichael didn’t do things like that.

  Not any more.

  Taylor Carmichael behaved herself at all times.

  Taylor Carmichael was never, ever going to be caught out again.

  She opened her eyes feeling light-headed. Somehow, she was still on the film. Unfortunately she was also with Luca Corretti, a man as capable of extinguishing her good fortune as he was at nurturing it. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Somewhere away from all those people who seem determined to share in our special, private moment.’ He shifted gears smoothly. The engine roared and they overtook car after car as they sped along the coast road.

  Taylor, who normally hated being driven, wondered why she didn’t feel nervous. ‘So why the change of heart? I thought you didn’t want to be engaged.’

  ‘I don’t. But I don’t mind pretending to be engaged for as long as it suits me. I gained instant respectability. The board cried over my instant transformation.’

  ‘They cried? Really?’ The wind whipped her hair around her face and she anchored it with her hand, exhilarated by the speed, a smile on her lips. ‘That’s almost funny.’

  ‘I agree.’ Leaning on his horn as he executed a deathdefying acceleration to pass another car, he threw her a slanting smile that made her think of nothing but sex. ‘Who would have thought it? We appear to share a sense of humour. And a love of speed.’

  Unsettled at the thought of having anything in common with him, Taylor frowned. ‘We’ll be sharing an ambulance if you don’t slow down.’

  ‘Oh, come on—’ his eyes were back on the road ‘—you’re a woman who was built to go fast.’

  ‘I hate driving fast.’

  ‘No, you don’t. You love it.’

  ‘You’re reckless.’ She told herself it was the speed of the car not the wicked curve of his mouth that made her heart beat a little bit faster.

  ‘Has it ever occurred to you that it’s the other drivers who are going too slowly? There should be a sign—Dithering Is Dangerous. And you should know that fast is my default speed for everything except sex.’
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  ‘I don’t need to know that.’ She’d been trying not to think about sex but it was impossible around this man. Everything about him screamed masculinity, even the way he handled the car. She looked away quickly, trying to forget the sheer animal passion they’d unleashed together. And that had been just a single kiss. Her brief moment of relief turned to dread as she realised that her desperate, impulsive attempt to protect her position on the film had placed her in a position where she was going to have to spend time with this man. This man who tempted her more than any other. Despite the baking sun her skin felt suddenly cold. ‘I already know enough and I think you are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ His voice was a soft, masculine purr. ‘I make you laugh and we understand each other, dolcezza, because we are so alike.’

  It felt as if someone were squeezing her throat. ‘I’m nothing like you. And you drive me mad.’

  ‘You just think that because you’re hungry. A hungry woman is always irritable. When did you last eat?’

  ‘Eat? I don’t want to eat.’ She just wanted to get out of the car. She wanted to wind the clock back and find another way of extracting herself from this mess.

  She didn’t do this. She didn’t put herself in the way of temptation.

  ‘Of course you want to eat. You’re permanently starving but for some reason you suppress every appetite you ever experience.’ Without warning, he took a right turn, roared into a small village and cut the engine, oblivious to the stares he earned from the locals. ‘Wait here.’

  He disappeared for a few moments and then reappeared and dropped a bag onto her lap. ‘Never let it be said I don’t know what a woman really wants.’

  The smell made her stomach rumble and Taylor opened the bag curiously. ‘A cheeseburger? You think that’s what a woman really wants?’

  He leaned towards her and for a terrifying, breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her again but he simply smiled that maddening smile that made her stomach curl. ‘I’m good at understanding a woman’s hidden desires, dolcezza.’

  Pride kept her still in her seat. ‘Evidently not, because I have no desire for a cheeseburger.’ Her stomach growled loudly and his smile widened as he pulled back from her and started the engine.

  ‘I’ll leave you to argue with your stomach about that one. But while you’re engaged to me, you’ll eat carbs. Otherwise one of us will kill the other and that is not going to produce the headlines you’re hoping for.’ Eyes in the mirror, he executed a perfect U-turn and rejoined the main highway while Taylor stared at the cheeseburger, remembering the time she’d sneaked out with friends for a burger and been caught by her mother. She’d been twelve years old, excited by her first-ever invitation to join a group of girls and feeling almost normal for the first time in her life, when her mother had come storming into the restaurant and dragged it out of her hand, demanding to know why she was so determined to ruin her career.

  Taylor closed the bag and gripped the top so that she wasn’t tempted, but the smell wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Her mouth watered. Her stomach mewed.

  She made an impatient sound. The day was turning from a bad dream into a nightmare. ‘You’re cruel, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Just eat it and spare me the drama.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Her fingers tightened on the bag. ‘It’s on the forbidden list.’

  ‘Scusi?’

  ‘The forbidden list. The list of things I can’t do.’

  ‘You’re seriously telling me you have a list of things you can’t do?’

  ‘I don’t expect you to understand,’ Taylor snapped, ‘but I can’t eat this. For a start my character in the movie is supposed to be slender.’

  ‘Your character will be found strangled by her infuriated fiancée if you don’t eat something substantial soon.’ He pulled back onto the coast road. ‘Tell me more about this forbidden list. I think I might have one too.’

  ‘You? You have to be kidding.’

  ‘Well, I have a list—the difference is that mine is called my priority list. What else is on yours?’

  Spending time with men like him.

  ‘Everything that is bad for me and will wreck my career.’

  ‘So it’s also called the boring list. I suggest you flip that list and do everything on it, starting with eating food that’s bad for you and tastes good. Open that bag and feed the real you. Go on. You know you want to.’

  She did want to. She wanted to so badly.

  Oh, hell, why not?

  Tired and starving hungry, Taylor gave in to temptation. It wasn’t as if one hamburger was going to kill her.

  Trying to block out the sound of her mother saying ‘think of your career’ she closed her eyes and took a bite. Flavour exploded in her mouth. She moaned. ‘I think that might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Find a bin, quickly. I have to throw it away before I’m tempted to take another bite.’

  ‘Take another bite. And then another. When your stomach is full and you’re not behaving like a she-wolf stalking her prey, we’ll talk.’

  Flavour slicing through her willpower, Taylor took another bite. ‘OK, you win. When filming is over I’m going to buy a truckload of these. How do I ask for it in Italian?’

  ‘You ask for pane con la milza.’

  ‘Pane con la milza. That’s Italian for cheeseburger?’ She took another mouthful and chewed slowly, savouring every moment. ‘I know that pane means “bread,” and con means “with.” So milza must be—what? Beef? Ham?’

  ‘Spleen.’

  Taylor stopped chewing. ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Milza means “spleen.”’

  At the point of swallowing, she choked. ‘I’m eating a spleen burger? You fed me spleen burger?’

  ‘Your translation is less than elegant but yes, the meat is spleen. Pane con la milza is a delicacy, particularly around Palermo. My grandmother used to make it in her kitchen when I was a little boy.’

  She dropped the rest of the ‘burger’ in the bag and put it on the floor of his car. ‘Pull over. Now.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m going to throw up.’

  ‘Throw up in my Ferrari and this engagement is off. Nothing is worth that. Cristo, Taylor, stop behaving like a wimpy female.’ He flung her an impatient look before fixing his eyes on the road again. ‘What is that phrase you use? Put your big-girl pants on. But not literally—I prefer you in something more revealing. A thong works for me. Does that phrase exist? Put your sexy-girl thong on? Whatever—show some guts.’

  ‘Thanks to you I just ate guts.’

  ‘And even as we speak the nutrition will be flowing into your starved veins. Your starved body should be thanking me.’

  ‘You have a problem with my body? That’s odd because it certainly didn’t seem that way when you were ripping my clothes off a few days ago.’ She had the satisfaction of seeing his hands tighten on the wheel.

  ‘I didn’t see enough of it to judge.’

  The atmosphere in the car had shifted dangerously and she wished she’d kept the conversation on the topic of food. Wiping her fingers on a napkin, she shuddered. ‘Do not ever mention this particular meal again. I do not want to even think about the fact I just ate a—never mind.’

  ‘I never would have thought you were squeamish. Meat is meat.’

  ‘I don’t often eat meat and when I do I like to know what I’m eating before I eat it. Now I understand why all your relationships have been short. I don’t think I can even pretend to love you enough to marry you. You drive me crazy.’

  ‘Anyone choosing to get married has to be crazy, so I don’t see that as a problem.’ He slowed the car, waiting as a pair of electric gates opened slowly, and then accelerated along a drive bordered by tall cypress trees.

  ‘Where are we?’ She threw a glance at his profile, wondering why he was so firmly against marriage. She decided it was probably because he lived his life surrounded by gorgeous
women.

  ‘We’re somewhere exclusive where we can be assured of privacy.’ The tyres crunched over gravel as he pulled up outside a beautiful building built from honey-coloured stone.

  A woman appeared from nowhere. ‘Luca!’ She burst into a stream of fluent Italian and Luca replied in the same language. Taylor glanced around her, trying to ignore the fact that hearing him speak in that beautiful, lilting language made her tummy tighten.

  Impatient with herself, she reminded herself that any time her self-control weakened around him she just needed to think of him feeding her a spleen burger. Most of all she needed to remember that there was nothing romantic about this situation.

  Which suited her just fine.

  Never again was she trusting a man. Or any other person for that matter. She was using Luca Corretti, just as he was using her.

  Having reminded herself of that, it was doubly unsettling when the woman walked across to her and took her hands, her eyes filling.

  Taylor suppressed her natural impulse to back away. ‘Er, bueno, er…’ She glanced hopelessly at Luca, who rolled his eyes.

  ‘That’s Spanish. What are you trying to say?’

  Taylor felt her face turn scarlet with embarrassment. ‘I’m trying to be friendly and say hello.’

  ‘If it’s after midday you can just say buona sera. This is Geovana. She speaks some English, although she might not be familiar with “spleen burger.”’

  ‘You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.’ Geovana’s hands tightened on hers. ‘Welcome.’

  Touched by the warmth shown to her, Taylor looked at Luca. ‘How do I say “I’m pleased to be here” in Italian?’

  ‘I amarlo così tanto la sua folle.’

  She repeated it slowly and was stunned when Geovana flung her arms round her and hugged her tightly. Unused to being hugged, Taylor held herself rigid. ‘Oh! This is…nice and…welcoming.’ Most of all it was unfamiliar. She frowned slightly, feeling something inside her unravel. Geovana was warm and plump and…motherly. Taylor swallowed. Her own mother had seen her as a meal ticket, as a means to live out her own dreams, not as a daughter to be hugged. Their conversations had only ever been about how Taylor could do more, be more, never about who she was or what she wanted, and it had never, ever been about affection. They’d parted ways when Taylor was seventeen and hadn’t spoken since.