The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит

      ‘Where are we?’ She threw a glance at his profile, wondering why he was so firmly against marriage. She decided it was probably because he lived his life surrounded by gorgeous women.

      ‘We’re somewhere exclusive where we can be assured of privacy.’ The tyres crunched over gravel as he pulled up outside a beautiful building built from honey-coloured stone.

      A woman appeared from nowhere. ‘Luca!’ She burst into a stream of fluent Italian and Luca replied in the same language. Taylor glanced around her, trying to ignore the fact that hearing him speak in that beautiful, lilting language made her tummy tighten.

      Impatient with herself, she reminded herself that any time her self-control weakened around him she just needed to think of him feeding her a spleen burger. Most of all she needed to remember that there was nothing romantic about this situation.

      Which suited her just fine.

      Never again was she trusting a man. Or any other person for that matter. She was using Luca Corretti, just as he was using her.

      Having reminded herself of that, it was doubly unsettling when the woman walked across to her and took her hands, her eyes filling.

      Taylor suppressed her natural impulse to back away. ‘Er, bueno, er…’ She glanced hopelessly at Luca, who rolled his eyes.

      ‘That’s Spanish. What are you trying to say?’

      Taylor felt her face turn scarlet with embarrassment. ‘I’m trying to be friendly and say hello.’

      ‘If it’s after midday you can just say buona sera. This is Geovana. She speaks some English, although she might not be familiar with “spleen burger.”’

      ‘You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.’ Geovana’s hands tightened on hers. ‘Welcome.’

      Touched by the warmth shown to her, Taylor looked at Luca. ‘How do I say “I’m pleased to be here” in Italian?’

       ‘I amarlo così tanto la sua folle.’

      She repeated it slowly and was stunned when Geovana flung her arms round her and hugged her tightly. Unused to being hugged, Taylor held herself rigid. ‘Oh! This is…nice and…welcoming.’ Most of all it was unfamiliar. She frowned slightly, feeling something inside her unravel. Geovana was warm and plump and…motherly. Taylor swallowed. Her own mother had seen her as a meal ticket, as a means to live out her own dreams, not as a daughter to be hugged. Their conversations had only ever been about how Taylor could do more, be more, never about who she was or what she wanted, and it had never, ever been about affection. They’d parted ways when Taylor was seventeen and hadn’t spoken since.

      When Geovana finally released her only to kiss her on both cheeks, Taylor felt confused, raw and vulnerable.

      ‘She likes you,’ Luca said in a flat drawl, ‘that’s a compliment. Come on, I’ll show you to our bedroom suite.’

      Our bedroom? She decided to ignore that until they were alone. ‘Doesn’t she usually like your girlfriends?’

      ‘She’s never met any of them.’ Taking her hand, Luca strode into the house as if he owned it, crossed the beautiful, light-filled entrance hall and up a curved staircase.

      ‘Why hasn’t she met any of them?’ Taylor tugged at her hand but he didn’t release her. His fingers were cool and strong. ‘I assumed this hotel is one of your regular sex hideouts. Or do you smuggle your women in and out through the window?’ She tugged at her hand, harder this time, and this time he released her.

      Relief flowed through her and she promised herself that from now on she’d keep a physical distance from him. No touching. She had enough problems without adding to them.

      ‘This isn’t a hotel.’ He pushed open a door and walked into a room that took her breath away. Through the open French doors the view stretched across a garden to a vineyard and, beyond that, in the distance, the towering peak of Mount Etna.

      Taylor decided she’d never seen a more perfect view in her life. ‘Wow. You have an eye for beauty, I’ll give you that. It’s stunning. And so private.’ Reluctantly, she dragged her eyes from the view to look at him. ‘If this isn’t a hotel, then what is it?’

      ‘It’s my home.’ He shrugged off his jacket and removed his tie. ‘And I don’t bring women here, so don’t get too comfortable. Strictly speaking I should have blindfolded you before I brought you to my private lair.’

      ‘Why don’t you bring women here?’

      ‘Because my home is a place to relax and women are exhausting.’ He strolled across the sunlit room and placed his cufflinks in a dish on the nightstand, ‘From their uncanny ability to misinterpret everything a man says or does, to their endless demands for reassurance, including such well-loved phrases as “Does this dress make me look fat?” and—every man’s favourite—“What are you thinking?”’

      ‘Yeah, that must be a tough one for a guy like you who never bothers thinking. If you had bothered to think you wouldn’t have messed up so badly with Portia.’ She used sarcasm to cover up the way he made her feel. It wasn’t just the sexual chemistry that terrified her, it was the buzz she had from talking to him.

      ‘I didn’t mess up with Portia. That relationship ended precisely when I intended it to. I consider that to be a success.’

      ‘But if you’d ended it more thoughtfully we wouldn’t be in this position.’

      ‘In what position? Suddenly we’re both respectable. It’s a miracle.’ With a complete lack of self-consciousness he undid the rest of the buttons of his shirt, allowing it to fall open. His trousers rode low on his lean hips, revealing toned, male abs, and Taylor averted her eyes, ignoring the dangerous curl of warmth that spread through her body.

      ‘Thanks, but I can live without the striptease.’

      ‘Is it bothering you?’

      Exasperation mingled with a much more dangerous emotion. ‘No, it isn’t bothering me. But I’m the sort of person who needs personal space. We should have stayed at my hotel.’ The glimpse had been brief, but the image of his bronzed, fit body was seared onto her brain. ‘I have a suite with two rooms.’

      ‘I can’t stand hotels.’

      ‘And yet you want to run the family business?’

      ‘That’s different.’ He shrugged, his tone bored. ‘That’s just about proving a point. And if we’re going to be engaged then I need space too. I’m not good at being trapped with a woman.’

      But now they were both trapped and he was looking at her, assessing her with that lazy, sexy stare that was so much a part of him until she felt as if her skin might catch fire.

      Desperately, she steered the subject onto safer ground. ‘So tell me about Geovana.’ She thought about the warmth the other woman had shown her. ‘Why did she hug me so tightly? When I said I was pleased to be here, she almost strangled me.’

      ‘That’s because you didn’t say you were pleased to be here. You said you were so in love with me it’s driving you crazy.’

      She gaped at him. ‘I said what you told me to say.’

      ‘Yes. And you were remarkably fluent. Very impressive for a non-Italian speaker.’

      Mouth tightening, she tapped her foot on the floor. ‘I suppose you think that’s really funny. Like teaching a toddler to use rude words.’

      ‘Since I don’t intend to ever marry, that’s an experience I’m not going to be in a position to comment on but strangely enough I didn’t do it to be funny. I did it because we’re supposed to be engaged. You’re not the only one who can act a part when required.’

      ‘That’s why she hugged me? Because I told her I was crazy about you?’