‘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 to stare at that version of me when I switch on my computer or open a magazine. And yes, there are things I wish I hadn’t done. Things I’d do differently if I had my time again.’ Things she regretted deeply.
Her past lurked out there like a beast in the shadows and she knew it was going to pounce. Suddenly she wished she could keep driving into the sunset. Vanish and live a different life.
On impulse, she pulled in by the side of the road and stared at the view. ‘It’s so beautiful.’
‘Sicily is the most beautiful island in the world. That’s why I try and spend as much time here as I can.’
The phone in her bag pinged to signify a message, disturbing the moment, and Taylor reached across him eagerly and pulled it out of her bag. ‘With luck this will be good news on the director situation.’
But it wasn’t and her excitement turned to sick panic as she read the words on the screen.
Her hands grew clammy and her phone almost slid from her fingers.
She wanted to hurl it off the cliff, as if that simple gesture might cut her off from her past and keep her safe. But she knew there was no point. Whatever she did, her past would always haunt her. He would always haunt her.
‘Trouble?’ Luca was watching her and she tried desperately to pull herself together.
‘No.’ She shut off her phone and slipped it back into her bag.
‘For an actress, you’re a terrible liar.’
She knew she wasn’t a terrible liar but she was fast discovering that Luca Corretti, for all his reputation as a shallow playboy, was sharp as a razor. ‘I’m not lying. Just tired. I wish the press would disappear.’
‘You care too much about what people think.’
‘You have no idea what it’s like.’ The lump in her throat appeared from nowhere. ‘No idea what it’s like having cameras filming your every move from your first step to your first boyfriend. No idea what it’s like to be betrayed by the people closest to you—people who are supposed to care about you and love you—and no idea how it feels to wake up and realise the only person in the world you can trust is yourself.’ Her outburst shocked her almost as much as it clearly shocked him.