An Invitation to Sin(26)

‘Yes. And you were remarkably fluent. Very impressive for a non-Italian speaker.’

Mouth tightening, she tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I suppose you think that’s really funny. Like teaching a toddler to use rude words.’

‘Since I don’t intend to ever marry, that’s an experience I’m not going to be in a position to comment on but strangely enough I didn’t do it to be funny. I did it because we’re supposed to be engaged. You’re not the only one who can act a part when required.’

‘That’s why she hugged me? Because I told her I was crazy about you?’

‘So it would seem.’ A ghost of a smile touched his mouth. ‘Today is probably the happiest day of her life. Geovana had given up on seeing me bring a woman home.’

‘Because no woman would put up with you.’ But part of her wondered whether there was a deeper reason for his aversion to marriage. Her instincts told her there was more to it than simply a love of a playboy lifestyle. ‘Have you known her a long time?’

‘Since I was five years old.’

Taylor felt a twinge of envy at the warmth of his relationship with the woman.

She didn’t have anyone in her life she was close to. No one she could trust as Luca clearly trusted Geovana. It was obvious that the older woman adored him.

‘How did you meet her?’ She asked the question as they walked up the stairs towards the bedroom.

‘She was our nanny until my mother fired her in a fit of jealousy.’

‘You had a nanny?’ She bit her tongue. Of course he’d had a nanny. He came from a rich family. He hadn’t been used as the breadwinner by an ambitious mother while he was still in nappies. ‘Did your mother work?’

‘It was a full-time job trying to keep my father happy.’

She was about to question that statement when he started to unbuckle his belt. ‘Whoa. Rewind. I do not need to see you naked. This engagement is fake, remember?’

‘There is no way I’ll forget that, dolcezza. Just make sure you don’t.’

‘Oh, please—there is no way I’ll forget that.’

‘Don’t be so sure. Every woman I meet thinks she’s going to be the one to change my ways and drag me to the altar.’

Turning her back on him, Taylor paced around the room, noticing the art on the walls and the beautiful stylish touches. There were no photographs. Nothing personal. ‘You are known for living the high life. We are going to have to work extra hard to convince people this is real. Even pretending is giving you a hunted look. I’m going to have to teach you to act.’

‘I can act. I don’t need your help.’

‘And I may not need yours if Santo doesn’t manage to replace the director.’ Battling a rush of insecurity, Taylor walked through the French doors onto the pretty balcony with its glorious views of the Sicilian countryside. ‘It’s gorgeous. Are you sure the press won’t find us here?’

‘Of course I’m not sure. They can find us anywhere, that’s their job.’ He seemed completely indifferent to the possibility and she felt her own pulse rate quicken as she walked back into the bedroom.

‘Don’t you care?’

‘Why would I?’

‘It’s an invasion of privacy.’

‘I’ve never seen the need to hide what I do.’ He removed his shirt and dropped it onto the bed. The flex of hard, honed muscle across his wide shoulders had her staring, and because this was the day where nothing was going her way that was the moment he turned and caught her.

‘Enjoying the view?’

‘Not particularly. And I have no idea why you’re undressing.’

‘Purely for your entertainment, dolcezza.’ Sending her a sexy smile, he unclipped his watch. ‘And for the entertainment of any photographers who happen to have long lenses trained on my bedroom. I’d hate to disappoint them. Oh—and because I intend to take a shower.’

‘Photographers?’ Horrified, she looked from him to the long windows that offered a view into the distance. ‘Can this house be seen from the road?’

‘I have no idea. I suppose we’ll find out now you’re staying here.’

‘I’m not staying here…’ She stumbled over the words in her panic, tripping over her bag as she backed to the door and opened it. ‘If the press could be watching, I can’t stay. I have to go somewhere I know I can’t be photographed—I have to—’