‘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.’
‘Don’t make me hurt you, Tomas.’ Still smiling, she slid her arm through his and Luca frowned slightly and opened his mouth to remind her that they didn’t need to play the role of an engaged couple tonight but she seemed more relaxed than he’d ever seen her so he closed his mouth and drew her against him as they joined the noisy, friendly crowd moving towards the arena.
He felt her tension as they were surrounded by people and then felt that same tension seep from her as she realised that no one had even given them a single glance.
They didn’t expect to see her and so they didn’t see her.
And the disguise was good.
‘So, Teresa—’ he pulled her forward to the area in front of the stage where a group was already performing ‘—what does a girl like you normally get up to on a Saturday night?’
She blinked innocently. ‘Normally I’m milking the goats, Tomas. And what do you normally do when you’re not dressing in jeans that are a crime against fashion?’
Normally he was sleeping with some woman he never intended to see again.
Luca was slowly absorbing that fact when the crowd surged forward.
Instinctively he reached for Taylor, intending to protect her from the crush of people, but she was already dancing, arms in the air, joining in with everyone around her as the group on the stage revved the audience into a state of excitement.
As the sun set, darkness fell over Mount Etna and coloured lights played over the crowd and the atmosphere turned from excited to electric.
And still Taylor danced and it was the sexiest, most erotic thing he’d ever seen.
She moved with unconscious grace and sensuality, in perfect time to the music, thinking of nothing but the moment. It was the first time he’d seen her out in public and not looking over her shoulder.
‘You’re a real wild child, Teresa.’ But she couldn’t hear him over the music so he scooped her face into his hands and kissed her and she kissed him back, smiling against his mouth, happier than he’d ever seen her.
The chemistry was instantaneous and mutual.
Her arms locked around his neck and they kissed, oblivious to the crowd around them.
If someone hadn’t bumped against them hard, they might never have stopped kissing and Luca released her suddenly, wondering what he was doing and she was obviously wondering the same thing because her smile faltered.
‘Thank you for this—’ she glanced at the crowd and the stage ‘—and for arranging something you knew would make me happy. You’ve gone to so much trouble and, well, you’ve surprised me, Luca Corretti.’
He’d surprised himself. He didn’t go out of his way to make a woman happy because a happy woman was a woman who wanted to stick around and he’d never wanted that.
But seeing Taylor having fun had given him a high like no other.
They stared at each other. He brushed her hair away from her face and she caught his hand and gave him a warning look.
‘Don’t mess with my hair, Tomas. Took me hours to get it looking like this.’
He’d forgotten about the wig. All his attention had been on her and suddenly he wanted to be on his own with her. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘No wait—’ she shouted above the noise, her voice pleading ‘—can we just stay for the fireworks? I love fireworks.’
He intended to talk her out of it but then he saw her face as she gazed up at the sky, as enchanted as a child as silver exploded against black, showering the night sky with a thousand stars.