An Invitation to Sin

‘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.’