An Invitation to Sin

‘Funnily enough I’m enjoying this one.’ It was the first time a woman had been more scared than him. ‘Admit it—last night was the hottest sex you’ve ever had.’

‘God, why do guys need so much praise? Just shut up and let me dress in peace. I have to go.’

Luca smiled. ‘All of this excess energy is wasted because you’re running from a man who isn’t chasing you, tesoro.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ She spoke between her teeth. ‘When we’re on our own, there is no need to pretend we’re anything other than—’

‘Two people who share explosive chemistry in bed?’

‘Not that either.’

‘I fully understand your aversion to relationships. I’m having more trouble understanding your panic about a night of incredible sex. Is this because you lost control?’

‘I did not lose control.’

‘I enjoyed the opera by the way. I had no idea the whole experience could be so…passionate. I love to hear you moaning, but silent sex was surprisingly erotic.’

Her look was fierce. ‘You took advantage.’

‘I didn’t hear you complaining either then or last night. You definitely moaned. And you dug your fingers in my back.’

‘Are you finished?’

‘For now. But only because we need to eat before we expend more energy.’

‘We won’t be expending more energy. This was a one-time thing. We’re going to forget this happened.’

He should have been relieved to hear that from a woman. The fact that he wasn’t surprised him. ‘Fine by me. But any time you want me to make you moan again, just tap me on the shoulder. My skills are at your disposal.’ He saw her eyes flash.

‘I can live perfectly well without your skills.’

‘Are you sure? Because it seemed to me that you were pretty desperate there for a while.’

‘I was not desperate.’ Without looking at him she slung her bag over her shoulder and made for the door. ‘I’ll call a taxi.’

Realising that she was serious, Luca sighed and sprang from the bed. ‘And spend tomorrow reading that we had our first row? You need to calm down and breathe. Give me five minutes in the shower and I’ll drop you on my way to work as usual.’

‘Not today.’

‘Yes, today. Taylor—’ he hauled her round and gave her a little shake, frowning slightly as he stared into eyes wide with fear ‘—this was just sex. Incredible sex, admittedly, but just sex. Sex followed by a lift to work.’ He said it slowly, as if he were speaking to a terrified child. ‘That’s all it is, so don’t allow the messed-up part of yourself to ruin everything we’re doing here. You were the one who got us into this but we’re in it now and we’re staying in it for as long as it suits us.’

She wasn’t messed up. She’d made mistakes and she’d learned from them and one of the things she’d learned was not to trust people. It was a simple rule and she’d had no trouble living her life by it. Until now.

She told herself that sex wasn’t trust but she knew it wasn’t as simple as that. What she shared with Luca was more than just sex. He got inside her head. He saw who she was.

And yes, she’d moaned.

Appalled with herself, Taylor paced the length of the bedroom and then back again. She could hear the shower running and she turned her head, wrestling with an almost painful urge to throw caution to the wind and join him there.

Admit it—last night was the hottest sex you’ve ever had.

‘No!’ She covered her ears with her hands to block out the sound of the water because hearing the water made her think of the man and thinking of the man made her think of his body and how it had felt to be with him.

When that didn’t work she snatched up her bag in desperation and left the room.

Down in the kitchen she found Geovana removing warm brioche from the oven. The scent was another assault on her already overloaded, overindulged senses.

Her stomach rumbled. ‘Could I make myself some coffee, please?’ She muttered the words in English and vowed to learn more of the language while she was filming here. ‘Strong, black. Americano.’

Geovana smiled and responded in Italian.

Taylor caught one word that she translated as breakfast and shook her head. ‘I don’t eat breakfast.’ But Geovana either didn’t understand her or chose to ignore her because she loaded a plate with fresh, glossy brioche and placed it on the scrubbed, antique table in front of Taylor.

Her mouth watered. It was as if everything in this house was designed to tempt her self-control. She felt herself weaken. ‘That smells so good but I really can’t—’