The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит

launched himself at the other man with an angry growl, hauling him off Taylor as if he were a savage dog and delivering a solid punch to the side of his face. the director almost stumbled but then came back at Luca with a grunt. Within seconds both of them were rolling in the dust but Luca, younger and infinitely fitter, instantly had the advantage and he pinned the other man’s arm behind his back and pressed his face into the dirt.

      ‘Don’t ever touch her again.’ The blood in his veins pulsed with fury and he realised how close he was to the edge. Closer than he’d ever been in his life before. ‘You threaten her, you look at her in the wrong way, and I’ll come after you, capisci?’

      ‘Luca?’ From somewhere in the distance Taylor’s voice penetrated the mist of anger. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘I’m doing what someone else should have done the moment he touched you.’ Springing back to his feet, he nursed his throbbing hand. ‘I’m protecting you from him. Where the hell is everyone anyway?’ He glanced round and saw people emerge from The fringes of the set, openmouthed and speechless.

      ‘I was demonstrating a scene, you idiot.’ The director stumbled to his feet, rubbing his bruised jaw with his palm. ‘She kept getting it wrong.’

      ‘If she was getting it wrong then it must have been because your direction sucked,’ Luca said coldly, seriously tempted to knock him flat again.

      ‘You shouldn’t be on my set.’ The other man stood there, covered in dust and fuming. ‘I don’t care if the producer is your cousin. You can’t barge in here and disrupt filming.’

      Dealing with a suspicion that he might have overreacted just slightly, Luca turned his attention to Taylor.

      Her hair was mussed up and wild, her face as pale as an Arctic winter, her slender frame impossibly fragile in the flimsy dress.

      He spent his days dealing with women who were considered the most beautiful in the world but in that moment he knew he’d never seen a woman more beautiful than Taylor.

      And suddenly he knew. He didn’t just want the docklands for his advert, he wanted Taylor. ‘This is it.’

      ‘This is what?’ Rafaele snapped the words but Luca ignored him.

      ‘This is the place.’ Luca glanced around him, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before. ‘It will be the perfect backdrop for the new Corretti collection.’

      ‘Luca…’ This time it was Taylor who stammered his name and Luca strode over to her and smoothed her tangled hair away from her face, worried by how exhausted she looked.

      ‘I want to do the shoot here and I want you to model the clothes. We can link it with the film. It will be great publicity for both sides of the business. I’ll talk to Santo.’

      ‘Luca, you just punched Rafaele. And your suit…’ She gave him a strange look. ‘You’re covered in dirt.’

      Surprised, he glanced down at himself and realised he hadn’t given a single thought to his appearance when he’d jumped the gates and wrestled in the dirt. ‘There’s a price to everything,’ he drawled lightly. ‘I wanted to stop him hurting you.’

      ‘But it was part of the film. This is my work.’ Her eyes skidded to the director and Luca felt a rush of emotion he couldn’t interpret as he saw the look they exchanged.

      It was a look of two people who knew each other. Knew each other well.

      ‘You were struggling.’

      ‘That was the part I was playing. My character is very conflicted about seeing her husband again.’

      ‘You looked scared. Not the character, you. You were afraid of him.’

      There was a few seconds of silence and then desperate eyes met his. ‘I don’t need you running to my rescue, Luca. What were you thinking?’

      It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say.

      He’d expected gratitude, even silent gratitude. He hadn’t expected criticism and he certainly hadn’t expected that question.

      What had he been thinking? Just for a moment his brain froze. ‘I’m your fiancé.’ He was relieved as the answer came to him. Yes, that was why he’d reacted in such an extreme way. He’d got so deeply into the role that he was actually starting to feel the way a fiancé should feel. What did they call it? Method acting or something. ‘When I see you in trouble I’m going to try and protect you, and yes, I’m a touch possessive. Don’t expect me to apologise for that. I’m Sicilian. We don’t hand our women over to other men without a fight. If that isn’t what you want from a relationship then maybe you’re with the wrong guy.’

      Her shock mirrored his own.

      What the hell was he saying?

      He didn’t want the relationship to end. And anyway, how could you end something that wasn’t real in the first place?

      Freaked out by a nagging voice that told him he’d totally lost the plot this time, Luca turned on his heel and strode away.

      ‘Luca wait. Wait!’ Taylor sprinted after him, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach that was her barometer of trouble. She knew a bucket load of it waited for her back on set but right now she had other things on her mind. Like Luca’s extreme reaction.

      She’d never seen him anything but relaxed. Even when he was driving too fast or drinking too much she had the sense that every action he took was deliberate, but this…

      He’d been out of control, and if she needed confirmation of that then all she had to do was look at his suit.

      Luca Corretti was never anything less than immaculate and yet his perfectly tailored suit was marked from his scuffle on the ground and there was a small tear in the leg of his trousers, no doubt caused when he’d jumped the fence. Jumped the fence to protect her.

      Her heart was racing like a horse leading the field in the derby. All day she’d tried to block out memories of the night before but she thought about it now, her mind and her body remembering the intensity, the intimacy, everything they’d shared.

      ‘Don’t walk away—don’t—’ She caught up with him by the gate and grabbed his arm, releasing him immediately as he shook her off. ‘Just…wait, will you? We need to talk.’

      He stopped walking but his face was cold. Colder than she’d ever seen it. ‘You just made it clear I’m not welcome on the set.’

      ‘Because we’re in the middle of filming, but—’ She glanced over her shoulder quickly and his face blackened.

      ‘So are you going to tell me what is going on between you and that guy? I mean, what’s really going on?’

      Taylor’s mouth dried and her heart bumped hard against her ribs. ‘Nothing.’

      ‘This is me you’re talking to.’ His voice was thickened with emotion as he closed the gap between them. ‘Last night we shared everything. Last night you were honest. Don’t ever hide who you are from me.’

      Was she the only one who thought this conversation was crazy? ‘Last night was…’ What was it? Taylor shoved her fingers through her hair, not knowing how to begin to unravel the emotions at play here. Not knowing which questions to ask or which answers she wanted to hear. Glancing over her shoulder, she checked no one was close enough to overhear them. ‘Is this you acting? Because I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t any more.’

      There was a long pulsing silence.

      Luca stared at her. Something flickered across his face. ‘You were scared.’

      She took a step backwards, shaken that he’d seen that when no one else had. ‘I was acting.’

      ‘No, that was real. You were scared.’ He pushed and pushed, cracking open the shell she’d put around herself, seeing right through