An Invitation to Sin(27)
‘You have to calm down.’ Luca strode over to her and pushed the door shut with the flat of his hand, saying something to her in Italian. ‘Cristo, Taylor, why all the drama? You’re not on set now.’
‘I hate being photographed.’
‘Yes, I’m starting to get that part. Even I’m not that obtuse.’ His keen gaze was fixed on her face. ‘What I don’t get is why. You’re an actress. You’re photographed all the time. It’s part of the job.’
‘And I accept it when I’m out filming, or at a premiere or even when I’m out having fun because I know I can never go anywhere without being recognised any more, but I have to know I’m safe when I’m at h-home. I don’t want to be photographed when I—think I’m alone.’ She was stammering. ‘I deserve that. Doesn’t everyone deserve that?’
‘Yes, I suppose so, if that’s what they want. And now are you going to tell me what happened?’
Her stomach felt as if someone had tied a knot in it. ‘What do you mean?’
‘No one freaks out like that without a reason. So tell me the reason. What happened?’
‘Nothing happened.’ She had no intention of talking about it, especially not to him. She’d learned the hard way that no one could be trusted. Thinking back to how naive she’d been at seventeen made her want to curl up in embarrassment but at least she’d learned the lesson. ‘I’m a private person, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Except that, like most celebrities, the press considers you public property.’
His choice of phrase triggered something inside her. ‘I’m a person, not property. I am not anyone’s meal ticket!’
‘Taylor—’
‘Enough, OK? I don’t even know why we’re talking about this. I just hate the press, that’s all you need to know. I don’t want to stay somewhere they can see me! If they’re pushing a camera in my face, I want to know about it.’ Shocked to discover just how much emotion was still simmering deep inside her, Taylor reached for the door handle but his hand covered hers.
‘Cristo, you’re shaking.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met,’ he breathed. ‘Ballsy one minute and fragile the next.’
‘I’m not fragile.’
There was a long pause. ‘I’ll brief my security team. I’ll make sure this place is like a fortress. The only photographs those bastards get will be the ones we want them to take. Us doing engagement stuff—whatever that is. Talking of which, we’d better find out what we’re supposed to do.’ He released her and strolled across the bedroom as if nothing had happened, leaving Taylor shaken. It unsettled her to know she was nowhere near as in control as she liked to think she was.
Pulling herself together, she looked at him. ‘What are you doing now?’
He keyed something into his phone. ‘Given that you and I are clueless, I’m doing a search for the typical behaviour of engaged people. There has to be a website. It’s probably called getmeoutofhere.com. Or possibly killmenow.org.’ The remark was typical of him and for some reason that normality helped relax her.
‘We’re not just engaged, we’re newly engaged.’
‘And the significance of that is…?’
‘The first glow of excitement has yet to wear off. We have to be supersickly.’
‘No worries. The thought of being engaged makes me feel more sickly than you can possibly imagine.’
‘And you fed me spleen burger. Need I say more?’
‘No, but you’re a woman so no doubt you will anyway. If you want to sit down, sit on the bed. It can’t be seen from the window unless they have a lens shaped like a periscope.’ It was the only reference he made to her sudden loss of control. ‘Here you are. Ten habits of engaged couples. Can you believe someone researched that and then wrote about it? What a total waste of a life.’
Taylor glanced from the window to the bed and decided to follow his advice. She slid off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the end of the bed. ‘Go on. Read it out.’
He was staring at her legs. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Relaxing. I do yoga. It’s good for the core and helps keep me flexible.’
‘Flexible?’ His voice slightly rough, Luca lifted his gaze from her legs to her face, his phone forgotten. ‘How flexible?’