An Invitation to Sin

‘Oops.’ A strange smile on her face, she eased away from him and finished dressing in a flash. ‘Maybe this isn’t such a good place after all.’

‘We could go back to the house.’ His mind was a blur, his body rock hard.

‘No. You’ve arranged a secret night out for me. No one has ever done this for me before. I want to do it.’ She grabbed the bag and tugged on a pair of floral shorts. ‘These clothes are hideous. Who chose them?’

‘Someone with no taste whatsoever.’ But it made no difference, he realised. Whatever she was wearing, she was the hottest woman he’d ever met. Trying to think cold thoughts, he changed into jeans and slid into the car, ducking his head so that he didn’t bang it on the roof.

‘Do you really think we won’t be recognised?’

‘I sincerely hope not or my reputation as the head of a fashion house is for ever destroyed. I would rather shoot myself than have someone think I chose to wear this. Come on. Let’s do this.’ Making an effort not to look at her, Luca turned the key in the ignition, rolling his eyes as the engine coughed and spluttered. ‘Believe me, even if the clothes don’t convince people, this car is a perfect disguise. Everyone who knows me also knows I wouldn’t be seen dead driving this piece of garbage.’

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.’