The Legend of de Marco

Rocco said nothing for a moment, and he sounded almost surprised when he admitted, ‘I’ve never taken anyone to Bangkok with me before.’

Gracie’s heart swelled dangerously in her chest. As if to counteract it she said lightly, ‘I’m sure you’ve brought them to New York, though.’

Rocco looked straight at her, as if sending her a warning. She was straying into dangerous territory. Very clearly he said, ‘Yes, of course I’ve brought women to New York. I’m here much more frequently.’

Rocco looked away from Gracie and back to his papers. He’d been pretending for nigh on an hour now to be engrossed in work, when all he’d been aware of was each minute movement she made. He almost laughed out loud at the notion that any of his previous lovers would have got into a motorised rickshaw even if he’d paid them to do it. But Gracie had loved it as it had swerved and barrelled through the chaotic Bangkok traffic. And he’d loved it too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d just taken time off to look at the sights. To enjoy a place. Never, came back the succinct answer.

Going into the Grand Palace

, the staff had been strict about the dress code. Gracie had been wearing a vest top over shorts. The staff had a facility to make sure everyone was dressed appropriately, so she had had to put on a huge billowing plaid shirt and skirt to cover up her arms, shoulders and bare legs.

He’d braced himself for a fit of feminine pique, but she’d just been worried that she’d offended the staff and then, when assured that she hadn’t, she’d giggled at how ridiculous she must look. She hadn’t looked ridiculous at all. He’d ached to pull her behind the sacred wats and do very unsacred things with her.

Rocco welcomed the skyline of New York coming closer and closer. In this city he would feel safer around Gracie, and he would keep her at a distance if it killed him. Bangkok had been a mistake. It had been way too raw.

Just thinking of that made him picture Gracie jumping into the pool in that dress, and with a barely stifled curse Rocco forced himself to concentrate until the page he was looking at blurred.

Gracie was very aware as they drove into the city of Rocco being distant. He was more businesslike than she’d ever seen him. She refused to let his mood upset her and stared in awe at the famously iconic skyline of New York as they crossed one of the many bridges into Manhattan. As they drove onto the island and the buildings soared up around them she saw all the yellow taxis and was enraptured.

Famous designer names glittered at her on Fifth Avenue, and then the green trees of Central Park materialised. With the park to their right, the car pulled up outside an Art Deco style building with a huge awning over the pavement. Gracie was helped out of the car by a smiling doorman in a uniform and the summer heat hit her. It was totally different from the heat in Thailand, but just as intense—even in the morning.

The doorman was greeting Rocco. ‘Welcome back, Mr de Marco, it’s been too long!’

They walked through a cool lobby to where the concierge was waiting with the lift doors open. They stepped in and the lift smoothly ascended and came to a halt. The doors opened straight into a private corridor and the penthouse apartment. Gracie thought she’d seen pretty much everything by now, but this was palatial and stupendous on a whole new level. Everything was cream and gold. Carpets so thick you literally sank into them. Abstract oil paintings on the walls showed Rocco’s taste for mixing the old with the new again. Antiques perched on small, elaborately designed tables. Huge cream couches were piled high with cushions.

Rocco was opening French doors on the other side of the room and Gracie followed dumbly, nearly too afraid to breathe. She stepped out into the morning air to see a vast terrace stretching what looked like the length of the building, with potted trees and artfully tamed flower boxes.

Rocco was standing with his hands on his hips, watching her, and Gracie joked weakly, ‘Where’s the pool?’

Rocco gestured with his head. ‘Downstairs in the gym on the lower level.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s nice,’ he said redundantly. ‘It has a view out onto the park.’

Gracie felt seriously overwhelmed. She walked over to the wall and looked out to see one of the most famous city parks in the world stretching away either side of her. People walked along the streets below and looked like ants.

She could see a big open green space in the middle of the park. And a lake.

Again Gracie joked. ‘I’m surprised you’re not in the highest skyscraper so you can see the furthest.’

She wasn’t looking at him, so she didn’t see how his jaw clenched. And then he replied easily, ‘Ah, yes, but the Upper East Side is the best address.’

Gracie looked around at Rocco to see him glance at his watch and say, ‘Look, I have to head out now. I’ve got back-to-back meetings all day.’

For once she was glad at the prospect of a bit of space. She nodded her head. ‘Okay. I’ll just … settle in …’

Rocco took something out of his wallet and handed it to her. ‘Here—take this. Why don’t you go shopping?’

Gracie took the black credit card automatically and looked at it. She was barely aware of Rocco peeling something else from the wallet and putting it down on the table saying, ‘You’ll need some cash too, for taxis. I’ll have Ruben downstairs give you a map and some directions. We’ve got a function to go to this evening, so I’ll see you back here at six … okay?’

Gracie looked at Rocco and sensed his impatience to be gone. She just nodded again, feeling a little numb. ‘Fine. See you later.’

There was a moment when it looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he turned and walked out of the apartment. A few seconds later a woman appeared, wiping her hands on an apron, and introduced herself as Consuela, Mr de Marco’s housekeeper.

Gracie shook her hand. The woman was clearly a huge fan of Rocco. She insisted on showing Gracie around all four en suite bedrooms, two dining rooms, one informal sitting room, one formal drawing room, the gym and pool, sauna room, a massive kitchen and two further bathrooms.

When her head was spinning she let Consuela get back to work and set about unpacking her things and deciding what she would do for the day. She was determined to try and not think about Rocco for at least five whole minutes. And she resolved to find an internet café and see if there was an e-mail from Steven.