An Invitation to Sin(57)

Still laughing, Taylor was pushing stray wisps of hair into the wig. ‘Do you like me as a redhead?’

In the process of reversing the temperamental car out of the garage, Luca allowed himself a brief glance. ‘You look surprisingly cute given that you’re dressed in something that should be banned by the fashion police.’

She pushed her feet into a pair of running shoes. ‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’

‘No. It’s a surprise. And turn your phone off just in case some nosy journalist is tracking you.’

Her eyes widened slightly but she turned it off. ‘You’re a very surprising person.’

‘Surprising how?’ He winced as the car bumped over the uneven road.

‘Doing this for me. I thought you only ever did things for yourself.’

‘I am doing this for myself. I want to have fun and you’re no fun when you think people are watching your every move. Tonight you can be yourself. That’s if we ever get there.’ He pushed the accelerator but the car chugged along at the same pace. ‘I’m starting to think that it might be quicker to walk. What is under the bonnet? I think someone forgot to install an engine.’

She clutched the seat as they bounced along. ‘It must be killing you to drive something that doesn’t go over ten kilometres an hour.’

‘Next time I’ll hire a donkey. It will be faster. How are you doing with that disguise? Have you tucked away all your hair?’

‘I’m one hundred per cent redhead.’

Luca turned his head. But still beautiful. ‘Scrub the make-up off.’

‘You just kissed off the only make-up I was wearing. Where exactly are we going?’

‘To a charity concert at the Teatro Greco at Taormina.’ He could taste her lipstick. Taste her mouth. Distracted, he crunched the gears and winced. He hadn’t had trouble driving since he was a teenager. ‘You said you wanted to go to a concert, stand in the crowd and not be recognised. That’s what we’re doing.’

‘I—seriously?’ She sounded doubtful. ‘I read about it and the lineup is fantastic but we’ll be recognised.’

‘No, we won’t because we’re not in the VIP seats, angelo mia. We are in with the crowd just as you requested. You are no longer Taylor Carmichael. Tonight, you are Teresa, a good Sicilian girl from a strict Catholic family—’

‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘And I am Tomas, the son of a local farmer who is hoping to get lucky.’ Luca flattened his foot to the floor to try and overtake a tractor but nothing happened and he rolled his eyes and made a mental note never to complain about his Ferrari again. ‘We are sneaking you away from your strict parents, who would beat you if they knew you were out with me.’

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Luca discovered that he was. ‘Maybe I’m into role play. Think you can play the role of a virgin from Catholic school who has never been alone with a boy before?’

‘Sure.’ There was a shimmer of humour in her voice. ‘Pull over and take your clothes off.’

‘Shouldn’t you be shy and nervous?’

‘No. If I were a virgin from Catholic school who has never been alone with a boy before, I’d be desperate. So pull over and get your clothes off, Tomas.’

‘If I pull over we’ll never get the car started again, especially not on this hill.’ Luca shifted gears as he drove up towards Taormina. ‘How do you feel about pushing?’ He winced as the car juddered over a bump. ‘On second thought, forget that. You don’t eat enough carbohydrate to have the strength to push a pen across a desk let alone a car up a road like this.’

‘Are you questioning my strength? Because that probably isn’t wise. I can take you, Corretti.’

‘I wish you would. I’ve been desperate since last night and that encounter in the car park hasn’t helped.’ Ignoring the instantaneous reaction of his body, he kept his eyes on the road. ‘Any time you want a repeat performance just leap on me and rip my clothes off. No prior warning needed.’

‘I’m a good Catholic girl. I have no idea what you mean.’ But she was laughing and he was laughing too, as the car shuddered to a halt by the side of the road.

‘Let’s walk from here. It will be faster and probably a lot safer. You do have the strength to walk, don’t you? Ouch.’ He winced as her fist made contact with his arm. ‘What a hot, spirited little thing you are, Teresa.’