by Sarah Morgan
‘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.’
‘Stories don’t die.’ The words tumbled out of her mouth along with years of anxiety and pressure. ‘They never die. Sometimes they lie dormant and that’s even worse because you have no idea when they’re going to explode in your face.’
He stared at her in bemusement. ‘I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.’
Of course he didn’t. And she had no intention of enlightening him. ‘This is all your fault.’
‘You kissed me back.’
‘I wasn’t talking about that, I was talking about the fact that you treated that woman badly and she sold her story to the press! If you were more sensitive, this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘You kissed me back.’ His voice was dangerously soft and suddenly her mouth was dry and her heart was thundering.
‘Or if you’d just paid her—’
‘You kissed me back.’
‘Yes, all right, I kissed you back!’ Her head full of images she didn’t want to see, her voice rose. ‘But I wasn’t thinking at the time.’
‘I know. You were stripped down to the most basic version of yourself. The real you. I like that version much better, by the way.’
‘Well, I don’t,’ Taylor snapped. ‘I’ve left that version behind.’
‘You might want to look in the maze. I’m sure I had my hands on that version yesterday.’
And that version of her wanted to grab him and haul his mouth back against hers. That version wanted to rip at his clothes and explore those parts of his body she hadn’t already explored. That version was burning up with sexual awareness and a need so strong it took her breath away.
That version was driving her mad and had to be buried.
Just to be sure she couldn’t be tempted to follow her instincts, she kept her hands locked behind her back. ‘This is a joke to you, isn’t it?’
‘Surprisingly enough, no. There is nothing amusing about marriage or anything that goes with it.’ The phone on his desk rang and then immediately stopped as his PA intercepted it from her office. ‘That is about the seventieth call I’ve had from journalists on my private line since you so kindly announced our engagement a few hours ago. It’s not working out for me. It’s time we broke it off.’
‘No!’ Anger turned to desperation. Trying to ignore the chemistry, Taylor lifted her fingers to her temple and forced herself to breathe. ‘Please. You have no idea how badly I want this job.’
His gaze was cool and unsympathetic. ‘Buy cheaper shoes or, better still, wear one of the thousands of pairs you already own.’
She lowered her hand slowly. ‘You think this is about shoes? About money?’
‘What is it about then?’
It was about acting, but it didn’t occur to anyone that she loved her job. They thought it was all about the publicity and that was her mother’s fault. She’d made a name for herself as the pushiest parent in Hollywood and Taylor’s reputation had suffered as a result.
Not just her reputation.
Her decision making.
‘I want to be taken seriously as an actress, that’s all you need to know.’ She’d learned the hard way to guard the private side of her life and she did it with the tenacity of a warrior. ‘I need this job to go well.’
‘And for that I’m expected to marry you?’
‘No, not marry me. But I thought maybe we could keep the whole engagement pretence up, just until filming is finished.’
‘You thought wrong. So far we’ve been engaged for about ten minutes and that’s ten minutes too long as far as I’m concerned.’
The thought of having to walk out there and admit that she’d fabricated the engagement pushed her close to the edge of panic. ‘You travel a lot,’ she said desperately, ‘we wouldn’t need to see each other much. Just the odd photograph of us looking happy together would do it.’
‘It wouldn’t do it for me. I have no desire to tie myself to one woman, fictitious or not. It would cramp my style.’ He glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist. ‘I’m late to a board meeting. When I come out of that meeting I’ll be behaving like a single guy so unless you want the next headlines to say I’m cheating on you, I suggest you break the news to them fast.’
‘I just told them we were engaged.’
‘Your problem, not mine. Tell them you came to my office and found me with another woman. Tell them anything you like—unlike you I have no problem having the real me presented to the world. But by the time I come out of my meeting I want calls asking me for a comment on how I feel about being dumped and if that doesn’t happen then I’ll be making a statement about dumping you. Your choice, dolcezza.’
With that he strode out of the room and left her standing there.
Women.
Unsettled by the depth o
f the chemistry and even more upset by overexposure to the word engaged, Luca strode towards the boardroom like a man trying to escape the hangman’s noose.
He genuinely couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to get married. The thought of committing to one woman for the rest of his life made him break out in a rash. Where was the pleasure in tying yourself to one woman? He could cope with female insecurity for the duration of a photo shoot, or even a single night of passion—providing it wasn’t the whole night—but the thought of a lifetime of ego stroking made him contemplate entering a monastery. Or maybe not a monastery, he mused as he was momentarily distracted by the chairman’s pretty executive assistant, but certainly a place where marriage was banned.
She blushed prettily. ‘The board is waiting for you, Luca.’
Boring old fossils, Luca thought, suppressing a yawn. They needed blasting into the twenty-first century and he was perfectly happy to be the one to do it if only they’d let him but there was no chance of that.
As he entered the room, he estimated that the meeting would take four minutes. One minute for them to stare at him gravely and comment on how his appalling behaviour left a stain on the Corretti name and the company as a whole, another minute while they told him he wasn’t going to have a seat on the main board and a further two minutes while he gave them an uncensored, unvarnished account of what he thought of them. That part promised to be entertaining.
Prepared to make full use of his two minutes, it threw him to see the chairman rise to his feet, tears in his eyes.
Tears?
Luca executed a perfect emergency stop. He was used to women crying over him, but men crying over him? That was taking things a step too far.
‘Luca…’ Hands outstretched, the man who had been a close friend of his grandfather’s walked round the table towards him.
Preferring all physical contact to come from the opposite sex, Luca backed away hastily, crashing into a chair in the process. ‘No need for the drama. I’m the sort of guy who prefers the truth without embellishment.’
‘I’m not going to lie to you, we didn’t see this coming.’
‘Didn’t see what coming?’
‘Your engagement.’
The word felt as if someone was rubbing sandpaper over raw skin. ‘Ah, yes. About that—’
Bursting into a stream of Italian, the man hugged him and Luca stood rigid in that embrace, thinking that if becoming engaged triggered so much uncontrollable emotion in people then he was doubly relieved he’d chosen never to do it. ‘Look, there’s something I need to—’
‘It changes everything.’
‘Marriage? Yes, I know, that’s why I’ve never—’ Luca broke off, horrified as the older man took his face in his hands.
‘If you’re responsible enough to take that step then you’re responsible enough to have a seat at this table.’
‘Scusi?’
‘We’re voting you in as Matteo’s successor at least until the fuss dies down and he returns. Angelo thinks he can just walk in here and take over our hotel—we’ll show him a united front. You’re a family man, now. A true, loyal Corretti.’
Biting back the observation that the words loyal and Corretti went together about as well as lion and baby gazelle, Luca extracted himself carefully from the man’s grip, thanking his lucky stars that he hadn’t actually been kissed. ‘So what you’re telling me,’ he said slowly, ‘is that my track record with the House of Corretti meant nothing to you but now that I’m engaged, I’m suddenly fit to run the hotel group?’
‘Running a hotel group takes more than brain power.’ One of the other directors spoke up. ‘It takes dedication. You have to demonstrate responsibility not just to your employees, but to your shareholders. We saw no evidence of that in your life, but it seems we were wrong. Not only that, but you’ve proved yourself capable of discretion. You and Taylor Carmichael are both highprofile people and yet somehow and we can’t imagine how—’ he beamed approvingly ‘—you have managed to keep this relationship a secret until now. Frankly, this has come as a shock to us, Luca.’
‘It came as a shock to me too,’ Luca confessed with perfect honesty. ‘I didn’t see it coming.’
‘So what are your plans?’
Plans? He’d planned to kill the engagement rumours and move on with his life, unrestricted, but now he was rethinking fast. Being engaged seemed to have afforded him a status within the board that impressive profits and innovative thinking had failed to produce.
If that was what it took to prove to this bunch of dinosaurs that he could add value to their company, then maybe it was worth considering.
He tested the water. ‘The wedding itself isn’t going to happen for a while.’
That statement was met by more beams of approval.
Encouraged, Luca elaborated. ‘And right now we’re both so busy we’re not managing to see much of each other.’
Approval turned to sympathy and Luca decided that maybe he could be the first engaged man on the planet who never actually saw his ‘fiancée.’ Pondering on that thought, he decided that the situation could actually be turned to his advantage. All he had to do in return for the responsibility he wanted was resist the urge to throw himself under the wheels of a passing car every time someone said the word engaged.
As his mind gradually emerged from the vice-like panic that came from thinking about weddings, he realised that Taylor Carmichael was probably already announcing to the world that she’d dumped him.
Knowing he had to act quickly, Luca spread his hands and smiled at the board. ‘I just came here today to share the happy news, but I’m afraid I can’t stay. Gutted though I am not to spend more time with you, I’m sure you understand. It’s Taylor’s first day of filming down at the docklands and I want to just go over there and be supportive, because—because—’ never having been supportive before, he floundered for a plausible reason for his actions ‘—because that’s what engaged people do.’ Truthfully he had absolutely no idea what engaged people did. All he knew was that he had nothing in common with them. ‘I want to be there for her.’
Fortunately the board seemed impressed. ‘Of course. After Matteo’s behaviour at the wedding that demonstration of loyalty is just what the public need to see. Who would have thought you would be the one to add sobriety to the Corretti family name.’
Sobriety?
Luca recoiled in alarm. He was prepared to live behind a facade of respectability just to prove to these old codgers that he could do more for the company than a whole boardroom full of men in suits, but being accused of sobriety made him wonder if it was worth it.
‘Go.’ Visibly moved, the chairman waved his hand towards the door. ‘We’ll have a meeting of the hotel executive committee tomorrow evening and we look forward to hearing your ideas for boosting the hotel business then. Bring your fiancée!’
Biting back the comment that his ideas would have been the same whether he were engaged or not, Luca left the room not sure if he were in the frying pan or the fire.
Whichever, there was no doubt in his mind that he needed to get to the docklands where filming was taking place before Taylor ruined everything. He’d tell her he was willing to go along with this whole engagement thing just as long as it got him a seat on the main board.
How hard could it be?
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WHEN ARE YOU getting married?’
‘Tell us how you met Luca Corretti.’
‘Why didn’t you attend the wedding together?’
Journalists pressed around her, trapping her with a volley of questions until Taylor wanted to scream at them to leave her alone but she couldn’t react because there, at the edge of the pack, watching her with a warning in his eyes was Santo Corretti.
He hadn’t said a word but she’d got the message.
If she didn’t handle this well, she was off the film.
He wouldn’t save her.
And how could she handle it well? Thanks to Luca�
�s refusal to play along with her, there was nothing to handle. As soon as she told them there was no engagement, it would be over.
The day was turning into a bad dream.
She’d already ordered herself a taxi and in the meantime she was stalling, waiting for it to arrive. Once she told them the truth she’d be on her own. She had no illusions about that. She needed an escape route.
And once she was safely away from here, she’d rethink her life. She didn’t have much choice, did she? Her past was a constant roadblock to her dream of being taken seriously as an actress. Maybe she should give up on film and work in theatre instead. Maybe she could fly to England and base herself there. They had Stratford on Avon and The Globe.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she told herself that the first thing she was going to do when she was safely away from here was eat something. The second was to give that Portia woman Luca’s home address and all his personal details. They deserved each other.
The loud roar of an engine made heads turn.
Taylor’s heart beat faster. So this was it. ‘I have something to tell you—’
But the journalists weren’t looking at her. They were staring at a red Ferrari hurtling towards them at a terrifying speed.
At any other time the car would have made her drool, but right now the only car she was interested in was her taxi and this definitely wasn’t it.
She felt a flash of panic. Already some of the journalists were turning back to her, waiting for her to finish her sentence. It was too late to back down. She was going to have to go ahead and tell them the truth about Luca. Santo Corretti would be so disgusted he’d leave her to it. She was going to have to elbow her way out of this mob alone and just hope the taxi showed up before she was ripped to pieces.
The sports car showed no sign of slowing and she saw several journalists mutter to one another in alarm before taking a few precautionary steps backwards.
Just when it appeared the driver was going to mow them down he hit the brakes, sending a cloud of dust rising upwards. And Taylor simply stared because there, seated behind the wheel, his eyes hidden by a pair of dark glasses that made him look insanely attractive, was Luca Corretti.