The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит
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capable of sensitivity, she swallowed. ‘I have no idea what capisci means but I assume it’s some unspeakable part of an animal that you probably just fed me.’
The corners of his mouth flickered into a smile. ‘Lift your chin. The first rule of hiding something is not to look as if you’re hiding it.’
‘I’m not hiding anything.’
‘You’re hiding more secrets than MI5, tesoro, but now is not the time to talk about them. Now smile that perfect smile you’ve perfected—the one that tells the world everything is good in your life even when it sucks.’
Taylor smiled obediently and he took her hand firmly in his and led her across the vine-covered terrace, down some steps and onto the street.
His hand tightened on hers. ‘You are thinking only of me,’ he murmured, ‘you’re not interested in them because you’re so in love with me.’
She just had time to mutter ‘in your dreams’ before they were mobbed.
‘Luca, Luca! Can we get a picture of you together?’
‘When is the wedding?’
‘When did you first meet Taylor?’
There was no such thing as privacy, Taylor thought numbly. There was no question they wouldn’t ask. No secret that they wouldn’t unearth and expose. They had no limits.
She thought of what they didn’t know and turned cold.
It would come out. It always came out.
She hadn’t realised she’d stopped walking until she felt Luca’s arm tighten round her. ‘You’ve already had more than enough pictures of us together.’ He spoke in that lazy drawl that made it sound as if he didn’t have a care in the world. ‘The wedding will be when we decide it will be and you will most certainly not be invited. Now go and bother someone else.’ Gently but firmly he nudged her forward, deflecting the barrage of intrusive questions with casual charm as he guided her to the car.
She envied the ease with which he dealt with them and she left him to do just that and was just about to climb into the passenger seat when he threw her the keys.
‘You’re driving.’
‘You can’t be serious?’
‘You’ve had one mouthful of champagne. I intend to take advantage of that. Not to mention the fact that you could barely keep your hands off the wheel earlier. Admit it, you’re longing to take this baby for a spin.’
‘One car is exactly the same as another to me.’
He smiled. ‘Right.’
It drove her mad that he knew her so well after five minutes in her company. ‘I’m not a speed merchant like you.’
That maddening smile widened. ‘Of course you’re not.’
Since her act was obviously wasted on him, Taylor slid behind the wheel, promising herself that she wasn’t going to drive fast. No way. She was going to prove that a car like this could be driven sedately. She was going to prove he was wrong about her.
Luca stretched out his legs and rolled his eyes. ‘Any time in the next century would be good.’
‘I’m taking my time.’
‘And while you’re taking your time, they’re snapping away,’ he murmured under his breath. ‘Snap, snap, snappety snap. Unless you want tomorrow’s headlines to be Taylor Carmichael Forgets How to Drive, I suggest you make a move.’
Horrified by that prospect, Taylor pressed her foot down and the car roared and sprang forward like a racehorse out of the starting gate. ‘Oh, I love this.’ The words burst from her spontaneously and he smiled.
‘So drive it. I presume you have no objection to speed on this occasion, my little petal? Let’s lose them, shall we?’ With a wolfish smile, Luca put his hand on her thigh and pressed her foot to the floor.
Taylor gasped and heads turned as the engine of the supercar screamed. The paparazzi jumped out of the way and she flinched back in her seat.
‘Did I kill anyone?’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Sadly, no. But if you slam it into reverse now and spin the wheel to the right you might just get lucky.’
‘You’re terrible.’ She gave a snort of laughter and accelerated away, the power making her moan with pleasure. ‘I’ve never driven anything like this before.’
‘I can tell. Speed up. If they’re going to chase us at least give them something to chase.’
‘You’re an exhibitionist.’
‘This from a woman who ripped her dress at a celebrity wedding.’
‘You ripped the dress.’
‘And great fun it was too. I’m partial to naked thigh, particularly when it’s wrapped around me.’
She felt a rush of relief as they left the photographers behind and she had to admit that the car was sublime. There was something illicit and wickedly good about the power she now controlled. ‘Are they following us?’
Tilting his handsome head, he glanced in the rearview mirror. ‘Strangely enough, no. Clearly they think we’re off to have boring almost-married sex which no longer makes us worth following.’
‘I wish.’ She changed gear smoothly and he raised an eyebrow.
‘You wish we were having almost-married sex?’
‘No! I meant that I wish they thought we’re not worth following.’ Flustered by the way he made her feel, she shifted gear slightly too early and saw him wince.
‘Premature gear-change, dolcezza. Keep her hanging on until she’s desperate—then you give her what she wants.’
She felt her cheeks burn. ‘Is everything about sex to you?’
‘This car is all about sex and you know it.’
Taylor kept her eyes fixed on the road. She was trying really hard not to think about sex around this man. Quickly, she changed the subject. ‘Thank you for what you did back there.’
‘You mean when I chipped your frozen, terrified carcass off the ground? Want to tell me what that sudden panic attack was all about?’
No.
‘It wasn’t a panic attack.’ Ahead of her the setting sun dipped low on the horizon, touching the sea and sending slivers of red across the darkening surface while the soft evening breeze whispered across her face and whipped at her hair.
It was a blissful, perfect moment and Taylor wished she could freeze time and keep things this simple for ever but that wasn’t life, was it?
She was aware of Luca watching her, his expression veiled by thick dark lashes. ‘You were scared.’
‘Journalists do that to me.’ Her hair tangled in front of her face and she pushed it away, hating the fact that her fingers were still shaking. She had so much to hide and deep down she knew it was only a matter of time before it all came out. And when it did…‘They wrecked my life.’ And they’d wreck it again without a moment of hesitation.
‘You mean they wrote stuff about you. You’re too sensitive.’
‘They wrote about private things. Things that were none of their business. And they lie—’ The wind dried her lips and she licked at them. ‘Do you honestly not care when they do that?’
‘No. If people want to write about me they can go ahead. But I’m not ashamed of who I am. Unlike you.’
‘I’m not ashamed! I’m—’ She kept her eyes on the road. ‘Private. People change. I’m not the same person I was at ten, or seventeen or even twenty-four, so I don’t want to have