The Legend of de Marco

‘It’s perfect.’

He came towards her then, hands coming out of his trouser pockets, and Gracie almost stumbled backwards at the sheer force of him in the tuxedo. She was standing by a table and he reached down and picked up a box she hadn’t noticed. He opened it up, presenting it to her, and she looked down to see a plain diamond stu

dded necklace and stunning diamond drop earrings.

She looked up at him. ‘What’s this?’

He frowned. ‘Jewellery for you to wear.’

Gracie shook her head, backing away a little. ‘It’s too much, Rocco. I can’t wear these. They must be worth a fortune.’

A dark shadow seemed to pass over his face, and then it cleared. Easily he said, ‘They’re from the shop in the hotel. They can be returned in the morning.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘They’re really only for tonight?’

He nodded, his eyes unreadable. ‘If you want.’

Gracie looked at the jewels again, and after a long second nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll wear them.’

Rocco took out the necklace and deftly fastened it around her neck. Then he handed her the earrings. She put them in with shaky hands. The necklace felt cool and heavy around her throat, and the earrings swung when she moved her head.

Rocco held out an arm and said, ‘Shall we?’

Gracie nodded and put her arm in his, and felt ridiculously as if she were walking to some kind of gallows.

Rocco kept Gracie’s arm firmly in his. He could feel the tiny tremors in her body as they went down in the lift. She was nervous. In the reflection of the lift doors she almost looked a little ill. And despite that she looked stunning. When she’d emerged from the bedroom for a split second he hadn’t recognised her. Her hair up showed off her long graceful neck. Make-up made her cheeks dewy, her eyes even bigger, lashes so long he’d seen them from across the room.

The colours of the dress shimmered around her like a hundred exotic birds, and the way the material clung to her curves showed off her petite lithe physique to perfection. With the tiniest amount of polish she had morphed into a beauty who could give any woman in his sphere a run for her money.

The diamonds were picking up the colours of her dress and flashed like fire around her neck and ears. He was so used to the routine of buying women jewellery when he took them out like this that he’d not been prepared for Gracie’s reaction, and he didn’t like the way it added to the clamour in his head urging him to believe in her innocence. The feeling of claustrophobia was back, but this time for entirely different reasons.

They travelled the short distance to where the function was being held in the chauffeur-driven limousine which had picked them up from the airport. When they stepped out of the car Gracie relished the warm, sultry blanket of air. Rocco was leading her into a beautifully ornate wooden building, its lines long and swooping in the distinctive Thai style. It was all so impossibly foreign. Like nothing she’d ever seen before. Gracie was drunk on the sights and smells, and the fascinatingly staccato sounds of the Thai language.

The building was open to the elements on all sides and surrounded by stunning gardens where the trees were lit up with fairy lights, giving everything a magical air. The rain had stopped and stars lit up the sky. Beautiful Thai women moved through the crowd in traditional long skirts, serving drinks and food.

Gracie refused a glass of champagne and Rocco replaced it with water, saying easily, ‘You don’t drink at all?’

Gracie grimaced and avoided his eye. ‘My mother was an alcoholic—and my grandmother. I’ve never touched the stuff.’

He looked at her for a long moment. She glanced at him quickly and then away again.

She couldn’t believe she’d just told him that so easily, and spoke again to distract him. ‘The women are so petite. I feel like an elephant next to them.’

Rocco took her free hand and lifted it to his mouth. Gracie looked up and her breath caught when he kissed the inner palm. ‘You do not look like an elephant. You look stunning.’

‘Th-thank you,’ Gracie stuttered. She couldn’t really believe she was here. In this dress. With Rocco de Marco. It was as if the fantasy she’d indulged in after they’d met for the first time had been plucked out of her brain and made real. It was too much.

She knew rationally that he was only being charming because she was there to fulfil a function in his bed, because he desired her momentarily, but she couldn’t help her silly heart from thumping ominously. Her mind was screaming, Danger, danger. Especially after what had happened on the plane, when he’d shown his deep mistrust of her. But then he’d dissolved that anger by asking her to explain about the passport. She cursed him again silently for removing her defences as though they were mere children’s play-blocks.

Rocco led her further into the crowd, through the main room and out to where tables dotted the gardens, candles flickering like small beacons of light. Gracie was glad Rocco had thought to give her some mosquito repellent earlier. She could well imagine that her whiter than white skin would be a magnet on a night like tonight.

Just then a man approached Rocco and clapped him heartily on the back, and that was the start of a long evening during which people approached Rocco and talked to him about things Gracie had never heard of nor could understand. Things like market forces and trends. But she didn’t mind. She’d always found it fascinating just to listen to other people talk.

‘Are you bored?’

Gracie looked up at Rocco, genuinely shocked. Another man had just walked away. ‘No! Why? Did you think I was?’

‘No,’ he said dryly. ‘But you’re awfully quiet and that makes me nervous.’