An Invitation to Sin(23)
‘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.’