Scandals Of The Powerful: Uncovering the Correttis / A Legacy of Secrets (Sicily's Corretti Dynasty) / An Invitation to Sin (Sicily's Corretti Dynasty) (Mills & Boon M&B)

by Carol Marinelli

  Closeted on the film set, it wasn’t until Taylor finished filming for the day that she saw the usual crowd of journalists gathered at the barrier had swollen to ridiculous proportions.

  Remembering the studio’s insistence on publicity and determined not to give them any reason to complain about her, she forced herself to walk across to them. Her intention was to allow them a few shots that would hopefully satisfy them enough to make them leave her alone, but as she approached she sensed the buzz of excitement that comes with a major story.

  ‘Taylor, do you have any comment on the photographs that are going to be published tomorrow?’

  ‘Photographs?’ But she knew what photographs and it was like stepping off a cliff.

  The cameras were clicking away, microphones ready to record her response, and all she could do was stand there, staring at them in silence as the reality sank into her brain.

  He’d done it.

  Rafaele had finally done what he’d been threatening to do for years. He’d sold the photographs. Photographs he’d had taken when she’d still thought there were people in the world who could be trusted. Photographs she hadn’t even known existed until she’d broken up with him.

  She’d often wondered how this moment would feel if it ever came but it felt nothing like she’d imagined.

  She felt numb. Disconnected. As if she were watching events from the outside.

  She’d expected to feel betrayed but she realised now the betrayal had come years before. And it had formed her. Influenced every choice she’d made since then. Tainted every affair and ruined every friendship.

  ‘Taylor? The photographs are going to be published in an Italian magazine tomorrow.’

  So not even somewhere far away. On Luca’s home ground where it would cause him maximum humiliation. Soil his perfect shiny moment when his achievements were being lauded by the board.

  Everyone was talking and the noise in her head grew and grew until she wanted to cover her ears and scream.

  ‘I don’t have any comment to make but I’ll be contacting my lawyers.’ But it wasn’t her lawyers who she was thinking of as she forged her way to the black chauffeur-driven car that was always at her disposal during filming. It was Luca.

  Luca, who was going to walk into that boardroom thinking that for once he had the upper hand only to be knocked unconscious by the weight of the secrets tumbling out of his fiancée’s closet.

  She knew he wouldn’t care about the photographs—when had he ever cared what people thought—but he at least deserved some warning so that he was prepared to handle it.

  Grateful for the blacked-out windows that gave her privacy, she leaned forward and ordered the driver to take her to the Corretti building as fast as possible.

  The place was already swarming with press but with the help of the security team employed by the studio, Taylor made her way through the glass doors unmolested.

  Once inside, she took the elevator to the top floor and was about to ask where the board meeting was taking place when she saw Luca emerge from a room as if he were sleepwalking. His shirt was undone at the collar and he looked as if he’d been hit by a passing car. His handsome face was pale and his usually smooth hair tousled.

  Eyes glassy, he knocked into a passing PA, sent a pile of papers flying and didn’t even seem to notice. He didn’t send her his trademark slanting smile, didn’t use the opportunity to appraise her bare legs or make any comment at all.

  It was clear that he was in shock and the fact that he was shocked shook her to the core.

  Nothing shocked Luca.

  Nothing.

  Her insides lurched.

  Slowly, he focused on her. His handsome face turned a shade paler and he didn’t seem quite steady on his feet and for a moment he didn’t speak. Just stared at her in disbelief as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  That shaken glance sent a tide of humiliation flowing over her and she realised just how much she’d been hoping he’d simply laugh at the whole thing. How much she’d been hoping they’d laugh together.

  This was Luca Corretti. Bad boy personified. He was the one person she’d felt understood her. She’d wanted him to wink and say something in that careless voice of his—something like ‘I hope they got your good side, dolcezza.’

  Never, in all the time they’d been together, had she seen Luca Corretti at a loss for words. He always had a smart comeback for everything. He was never bothered by anyone’s opinion.

  But he was bothered now.

  In fact, he looked as if he needed to lie down.

  As if to confirm that, he turned to his PA. ‘Get me a whisky.’ His usual smooth, sexy voice was rough and shaky and when his stunned PA handed him a glass he drank it in one gulp, his hand trembling so badly he could barely hold the glass.

  Then he looked at Taylor. ‘I just found out— I had no idea— I learned something—’ He was uncharacteristically inarticulate and Taylor suddenly found she had a lump lodged in her throat.

  ‘I know you did.’ She snapped the words, horrified to hear her own voice crack. ‘I came to tell you myself. I’m sorry I was too late.’

  ‘What did you come to tell me?’ He looked distracted and she stared at him in exasperation.

  ‘Well, obviously that— Oh, never mind—you already know. You found it out yourself.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I did and—Cristo, Taylor...’

  The sight of him so shaken up unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. He’d seemed to understand her so well. Better than anyone ever had before. Why wasn’t it obvious to him that Rafaele had taken advantage of her? He knew about her controlling mother and the way her father had used her. He knew she’d been vulnerable at the time. He knew all that and instead of defending her or even encouraging her to tell, he was shocked.

  But of course he was.

  Because he was thinking about himself, not her, the way people always did.

  He’d agreed to the engagement as a means of gaining respectability and these revelations had just blown that out of the water. The board had probably just fired him, which would explain why he was reacting so strongly.

  Taylor lifted her chin. ‘I’m sorry you feel this way.’

  ‘You are?’ His voice was raw. ‘You’re sorry?’

  ‘Of course! It wasn’t what either of us wanted. It wasn’t part of our arrangement.’ I wanted your support. Suddenly she was desperate to leave before she made a fool of herself.

  ‘It’s over, Luca. Done. Finished. The terms of our agreement have changed so that’s the end of it. There’s nothing more to be said.’ She walked towards the door and then, because she just couldn’t help herself, she made the mistake of looking back. And wished she hadn’t because Luca was staring blindly into the distance, looking like a man who had lost everything.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TAYLOR LAY IN a sodden heap on her bed in her trailer where she’d spent the night, too drained to get up and face the press. She hadn’t slept at all, just lain there, hoping desperately to hear from Luca. Hoping desperately that once he’d had time to think about it, he’d revert to his usual indifferent self and come and laugh with her.

  But she heard nothing from him.

  It seemed everyone in the world had called her except him. Everyone wanted her comment on the impending publication of the photographs, everyone wanted to know her side of the story and how she felt about the world seeing her naked. And she didn’t even care. Each time her phone pinged with another message she grabbed it hopefully but it was never him. He didn’t communicate. Not even a single text saying how sorry he was that she was in this mess.

  She’d had no idea the pretence of respectability had mattered so much to him and the image of his shocked expression was jammed in her brain.

  It wasn’t just the thought of the whole world seeing her naked that upset her, it was the fact that Luca didn’t care about how she felt. All he’d thought about was himself and how it was going to affect him. When she�
�d walked into his office yesterday she’d wanted him to defend her. Instead he’d looked shocked.

  Luca Corretti, shocked.

  He’d done shocking things in his life but clearly he was like so many men. He had double standards when it came to his own behaviour.

  The weird thing was she didn’t even care about the photographs any more. Even though it was what she’d dreaded for so long, she didn’t care about the embarrassment and the humiliation. All she cared about was that her ‘engagement’ to Luca was over. No more dinners. No more skinny-dipping in the sea. No more Tomas and Teresa. No more...

  Fat, scalding tears slid down her cheeks.

  Reaching for another tissue, she blew her nose hard, acknowledging the truth with a sick lurch of her stomach.

  She loved him.

  Really loved him. All of him, from the fun outrageous side of him to the hurt, lonely boy who didn’t trust anyone.

  Somehow, somewhere, her feelings had shifted from fake to real whereas he—he didn’t have any feelings at all.

  There was a hammering on the door of her trailer but she covered her ears and screwed her eyes shut, ignoring it.

  She’d faced the press alone so many times in her life, why did it feel harder this time?

  But she knew the answer to that.

  She’d allowed herself to trust Luca. For the first time since her teens, she’d lowered her guard. She’d believed he was a friend. But when trouble had landed he’d cut her loose and tried to distance himself.

  She yanked another tissue out of the box. What had she expected? That he’d stand up and fight for her?

  The hammering grew louder. It sounded as if they were actually going to kick the door down and anger flashed through her misery.

  Why couldn’t they leave her alone?

  ‘Taylor! Cristo, open this door!’ Luca’s voice thundered through the door and Taylor jumped in shock.

  ‘Go away! You are a hypocritical bastard and I never want to see you again.’

  ‘Open the door or I’ll break it down.’

  ‘Fine! Whatever. If that’s what you want.’ Springing from the bed, she wrenched open the door and Luca immediately barged his way past her and slammed it shut, blocking out the cameras.

  He swore in Italian. ‘It’s crazy out there.’

  ‘Probably safer out there than in here.’ Defensive anger bubbling up through the misery, Taylor folded her arms and tapped her foot on the floor but the words on her lips died as she took a proper look at him. ‘You look awful. Isn’t that the same suit you were wearing yesterday?’

  ‘What? No. Yes.’ He looked down at himself blankly and then back at her, tension in his features. ‘I don’t know. I do know there are things I need to say to you.’

  ‘If “sorry for being a hypocrite” isn’t on that list then you can save your breath and get out now.’

  ‘Hypocrite?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Luca—I saw your face yesterday. You were shocked.’ The words choked her. ‘How dare you be shocked? After everything you’ve done in your life.’

  ‘But I’ve never done this.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘I just didn’t think this would ever happen to me. I didn’t want it to happen.’

  ‘“This” being involved with someone like me? Well, I’m sorry to have disturbed your perfect life.’ Tears of frustration and humiliation stung her eyes and she pointed to the door. ‘Leave, before I sully your reputation even more. If you think you’re such a saint, get out now. And it didn’t happen to you, it happened to me. That’s my naked butt up there on the Internet, not yours, so stop being so sanctimonious. You’ve done far worse, Luca Corretti. You are many things but I had no idea you were a hypocrite.’

  He raked his hand over the back of his neck, his expression bemused. ‘Cosa? What are you talking about?’

  ‘You! I just can’t believe you’re shocked to see naked photographs! You’re the one who almost ripped my dress off at the wedding.’ That revelation was met by tense silence.

  ‘You think I’m shocked about the photographs?’ Looking slightly dazed, he lowered his hand from the back of his neck. ‘That’s why you’re calling me a hypocrite?’

  ‘I saw you, Luca. Yesterday, when you stumbled out of the boardroom, you could barely speak you were so shocked.’

  ‘Yes, but not about the photographs. I was shocked because—’ he broke off and licked his lips ‘—because I...’

  ‘Because what?’

  He looked like a man who was about to step off a cliff. ‘Because I’d just discovered I was in love with you. Cristo, that is the first time I’ve said it out loud and it sounds as weird as it feels.’ He sank onto the edge of her bed and stared down at his hands. ‘Look at me—I’m shaking.’ He held out his hands as evidence but Taylor simply stared at him, stunned into silence by his raw confession.

  Her mouth opened and shut but no sound came out and he looked at her helplessly.

  ‘I’ve never been shocked by anything before but I was shocked by this. I still am. I’m a guy who has never fallen for a woman. I never intended to fall for a woman.’ His voice was as shaky as his hands. ‘When you started this engagement farce I thought I was going to hate every minute of it. Instead I loved every minute of it. I loved every minute of being with you. You’re bright, sexy, funny, confident, sexy, strong, warm—did I say sexy?’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ It was Taylor’s turn to shake. ‘Are you really telling me you love me?’

  ‘Yes and last night you said you were sorry I felt this way which, by the way, was not the most sympathetic comment I’ve ever heard.’

  ‘Last night I thought you were shocked because there are going to be naked photographs of me everywhere. You’re shocked because you love me?’

  ‘Yes. And there won’t be photographs. That’s where I’ve been all night. With the Corretti family lawyers. We’ve stopped the photos being published.’

  It was her turn to be shocked. ‘How can you do that? The Italian press are notorious for not caring about rules and regulations.’

  ‘There are some advantages to being a Corretti. We stopped it. That’s all you need to know. No one gets to see my wife naked but me.’

  ‘W-wife?’

  ‘You have to marry me.’ He was on his feet, his expression strained. ‘Until I met you I’d never spent a whole night with a woman and now I can’t stand being parted from you even for a moment. Even when I’m not with you I’m thinking about you all the time. I know you find it hard to trust people and I understand why, but I wanted to prove to you that you could trust me. I made sure those photographs won’t be used.’

  ‘But our engagement was fake. We did it because it gave us both respectability.’

  He gave a humourless laugh. ‘And how did that work for you, dolcezza? Because I hated every minute of being respectable. I don’t care what anyone writes about you. I never have and never will.’

  The fact he hadn’t sold her out to the press meant almost as much as hearing him say he loved her. ‘He told me I was beautiful. Rafaele...’ The tears were falling again and she brushed them away with her palm. ‘I was homeless and I had no one—my own mother had turned her back on me and my father had sold his story to the press, and he was there for me. Except that he wasn’t. I trusted him—’

  ‘Shh...’ Luca wrapped her in his arms. ‘He doesn’t deserve a moment of your time and he certainly isn’t worth your tears. Don’t cry.’

  ‘He’s held it over me for so long. He didn’t even tell me he had the photographs until after our relationship ended. He paid someone to take them from the garden of the house we were using in California. I had no idea. I thought it was just the two of us. I thought we were alone.’ She pressed her face against his shirt and felt safe. ‘And then I ended it and he told me what he had. How he’d use them. No matter where I went or what I did, he found me. And I always knew he was just waiting for the right time.’ She swallowed, relieved to finally be able to tell someone. ‘And the pressure got to me.
Do you know how it feels to wake up every day wondering if this is the day the world is going to see you naked? It’s just horrible. And finally—well, I had a sort of breakdown.’

  ‘I know. I saw the pictures of you but no one knew what happened or where you went.’

  ‘It wasn’t drugs or drink. It was just the pressure. I wanted to get away. I flew out of LA and on the plane I met Zach.’

  ‘Zach the friend?’

  ‘That’s all he ever was. He served in Iraq. We got talking and in the end I went back with him to DC and volunteered in a rehab unit. They didn’t care who I was, they were just grateful for the help. I felt good about myself for the first time in my life. It was Zach who helped me separate the acting from all the mess that surrounds it.’

  ‘I’m starting to almost like Zach.’ Luca stroked her hair gently. ‘So what made you come back to acting?’

  ‘I read this script. And Zach helped me see that I love being an actress, I just hate being in the spotlight when I’m not on set. I hate that feeling that everyone is waiting to tear me down. And because of our engagement you’ll be pulled down with me.’ She felt sick when she thought of it. ‘I dread to think what the board said to you.’

  ‘They told me I had to distance myself from you and that’s when I realised I didn’t want to. I didn’t want it to be fake. I want it to be real.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Her smile was wobbly. ‘The real me gets me in trouble every time.’

  ‘Never with me. You’re forgetting that I grew up with fake. I grew up watching my mother turn herself inside out in an attempt to please my father.’

  Taylor touched his face. ‘You’ve never talked about her.’

  ‘She worked so hard to make him love her.’ His raw confession startled her and she eased away so she could look at him.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me this.’

  ‘I want to. I want you to understand. But I’m not good at this—I’ve never talked to anyone.’

  ‘Why do you say she was fake?’

  ‘He hurt her again and again and she just came back for more and tried to be who she thought he wanted her to be. He travelled a lot and I used to dread him coming home. She went from being a relatively stable normal parent to an insecure mess. She’d walk into my room at all hours, sometimes she’d even wake me up, and she’d always be dressed in something different, wanting to know how she looked. “You have your grandfather’s sense of style, Luca, tell me if this works. Will he like me in this?”’ His handsome face revealed the strain. ‘For a while, when I was very young, I actually thought that to be loved you had to wear the right clothes. And every time my father rejected her she’d study his latest girlfriend and try and copy the look and she’d ask me again, “Is this better? Do you think he’ll like this?” And when he didn’t I always blamed myself. Maybe if I’d told her to wear pink instead of cream. Or wear her hair up instead of down. Maybe if I’d got it right, she wouldn’t have spent the whole night crying.’