The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ some money from selling a story. You screwed that up before.’

      The pain was so intense he might as well have punched her. ‘I was young. Trusting. I’m not any more. And as for men—’ Taylor managed a careless shrug ‘—I can assure you there isn’t a man out there hot enough to tempt me.’

      Luca Corretti downed another glass of champagne to numb the boredom of behaving well.

      For the past twenty-four hours he’d driven under the speed limit for the first time in his life, declined seven party invitations and made it to bed before dawn. The fact that he hadn’t been alone at the time didn’t count. As far as the outside world was concerned, his behaviour had been impeccable. The only thing he hadn’t done in his quest for instant respectability was kissed a baby and even he wasn’t prepared to descend to those levels of hypocrisy just to impress the board of directors who’d decided his lifestyle wasn’t compatible with running another chunk of the family business. Apparently business flare counted for nothing, he thought savagely, wondering whether he could get away with swapping the champagne for whisky.

      And now, to add insult to injury, he was expected to sit through his cousin’s wedding.

      Was he the only person who hated weddings? All that happy-ever-after crap that everyone knew was a temporary illusion. Or maybe it was a delusion. Luca didn’t know and he didn’t intend to find out. He was going to be out of here at the first opportunity, preferably with the brunette bridesmaid he’d spotted on his way in.

      ‘Luca! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?’

      Before he could react, Luca was enveloped in soft bosom and a choking cloud of perfume. At any other time he would have thought it wasn’t a bad way to die, but he was conscious that heads were turning and, when heads turned, disapproval was bound to follow. It irritated him that he had to care. ‘Where have I been?’ He disentangled himself. ‘Avoiding you, Penny.’

      ‘My name’s Portia.’

      ‘Seriously? No wonder I didn’t remember it.’

      She giggled. ‘You are a wicked, wicked man.’

      ‘So people keep telling me.’ Luca put down his empty glass, trying to think of a method of stress reduction that didn’t involve sex or alcohol.

      Portia lowered her eyelashes. ‘About last night—’

      Aware that his one indiscretion was about to be made public, Luca removed the drink from her hand and swapped it for orange juice. ‘Last night? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Last night I went to bed with a book.’

      She gave a snort of laughter. ‘Well, you certainly turned my pages. I’ll never forget it. How could I?’ Her eyes on his mouth, she leaned towards him. ‘You were amazing. It’s never been like that for me before. You’re a genius.’

      ‘So I keep telling the board,’ Luca said in a flat drawl. ‘Unfortunately my opinion doesn’t seem to count. For some reason they seem to think activity in the bedroom saps my mental abilities so for the time being I have to prove I can keep my pants zipped.’

      ‘We could be discreet. leave the wedding.’

      ‘I love weddings and I love my cousin,’ Luca said immediately. ‘I couldn’t possibly leave until he’s married…married—’ what the hell was her name? ‘—the woman of his dreams.’

      ‘You love weddings? Honestly?’

      ‘Weddings never fail to make me cry,’ Luca said truthfully. ‘The thought of two people promising to love each other for ever makes me want to break down and sob like a baby.’

      ‘Oh. I had no idea you were so romantic.’ Her eyes misted. ‘And I’m so pleased that all those rumours that you hate your cousins are wrong. You’re nowhere near as bad as everyone says.’

      ‘Bad?’ Luca adopted his hurt expression. ‘I’m a saint compared to some people.’ He hoped she didn’t ask him to name someone as bad as him because he knew he’d struggle.

      ‘You’re quite a softie—’ she stroked his arm with her fingertips ‘—except in the one area that counts.’ She’d moved closer to him again and Luca stood up, cursing his lack of thought in picking up a guest at the wedding.

      What he’d taken to be a few moments of fun, she’d taken to be a future.

      Now he had to shake her off before the Corretti board gave him another black mark.

      Unfortunately Portia didn’t want to be shaken anywhere. ‘Will I see you tonight, after the wedding?’

      ‘The definition of a one-night stand, angelo mia, is that it lasts one night.’

      ‘You were keen enough last night.’ She pouted. ‘What’s wrong? Don’t you like me in this dress?’ The words robbed him of breath.

       Do I look good, Luca? Do I look better than her? Will he love me if I wear this?

      ‘Luca?’

      He dragged himself out of the black pit of his past and stared into Portia’s over-made-up eyes. ‘You look great,’ he said flatly, relieved when one of the wedding guests shrieked a greeting and Portia was reluctantly dragged away.

      Relieved by his narrow escape, he was momentarily distracted by a sheet of blonde hair that hung down the back of a woman standing on the far side of the terrace. People were pressing close, all desperate to get a piece of her, and he shifted slightly to see who she was.

      When she finally turned her head, he felt a flash of surprise.

      Taylor Carmichael. Well, well.

      It cheered him up to know that there was one person present whose reputation was as bad as his.

      According to the media, she’d done it all—drink, drugs and partying. And then she’d disappeared for a couple of years. He wondered what she’d been doing with herself and decided it was probably something disreputable. She was one of the few people at this wedding who could make him look saintly. Almost.

      Luca watched her across the room and remembered reading that his cousin Santo had recruited her to play the lead in his latest film.

      She had the most incredible body. Thinking that all that blonde hair would look good spread over his pillow, he took a step towards her and then remembered that members of the board were watching his every move and waiting for him to step out of line.

      Exercising a restraint he didn’t know he possessed, Luca turned away and engaged a suited man in a conversation about the economy.

      If Taylor had been able to take a big enough breath, she would have screamed.

      ‘You poor thing,’ the woman said in a voice sweet enough to rot teeth. ‘This wedding must be so stressful for you.’

      ‘Why would it be stressful?’ Taylor kept her smile in place and wished Zach would show up. She was going to need someone to lend her a jacket when her stupid dress split. ‘It’s the perfect opportunity to meet interesting people.’ Unfortunately you’re not one of them.

      ‘But СКАЧАТЬ