The Legend of de Marco
Gracie squirmed and felt heat rush to every extremity. ‘Rocco … stop.’ The words came out breathy and carried absolutely no conviction whatsoever. Her hurt at his suspicion of her was draining away. She was officially weak and shallow.
And then his hands did stop. He looked at her for a long moment and asked in a rough-sounding voice, ‘So why do you have a brand-new passport, then?’
Gracie held her breath for a long moment, eyes searching his face for some sign he wasn’t taking her seriously. She let out her breath and said a little shakily, ‘You’ll laugh at me.’
‘Try me.’
Gracie tried to pull back but Rocco only snaked his hands tighter around her, so that she was all but welded to his chest and her bottom sat snugly in his lap. How was she supposed to concentrate when she could feel him hardening against her?
She looked down, avoiding his eyes, as if that could help her concentrate, and played with a button on his shirt. She took a breath.
‘The reason I have a brand-new passport is because ever since I was little I always wanted to travel. I got a passport as soon as I could, even though I had no intention of going anywhere, and it was renewed just recently. I just liked the idea of having one, so I’d be ready to leave at a moment’s notice … it seemed romantic to me—like there was this world of opportunity I could explore some day.’ Gracie snuck a quick glance at Rocco and couldn’t decipher his stony expression. She’d never felt so exposed, and looked down again. ‘It’s silly, I know …’
Rocco battled hard against the maelstrom inside him. Either Gracie was the best actress on the planet … or she was telling the truth. She couldn’t even look him in the eye and his heart twisted. He knew what she was talking about, because the moment he’d taken his first passport in his hand he too had felt that sense of opportunity open up before him. He’d left Italy and never looked back.
He put a hand to her chin and tipped her face up to his, valiantly trying to screen the emotion he felt with the only weapon in his possession. Passion. Softly, though, before he gave in to it weakly, he just said, ‘Okay.’
Gracie looked at him. ‘Okay?’
Gruffly now, he said, ‘I believe you.’
Gracie’s heart felt as if it was expanding in her chest. All her hurt and anger dissolved and silently she cursed Rocco, perversely knowing that if he’d insisted on not believing her she would find it so much easier to deal with him.
He stood up then, taking her with him in his arms, and she squealed again. As he brought her towards the bedroom and her skin prickled with anticipation, she said breathlessly, ‘Where are we going?’
‘To join the mile-high club.’
Gracie’s insides liquified. ‘Rocco … we can’t …’
But her plaintive plea was cut off by the closing door, and when Rocco put her down and put his hands around her face and kissed her senseless she couldn’t think of one reason why they couldn’t.
An hour later Gracie was draped over Rocco’s big body, legs either side of his hips. Their breathing was still erratic, hearts thumping hard. She’d hoped that making love wouldn’t be as intense as the first time, but it had been even more intense. Because now her body knew the pleasure he could give her.
She was a mere novice when it came to sex, but in the space of twenty-four hours she felt as if she’d been spoilt for life. She knew instinctively that no other man could affect her like Rocco did. Lightning didn’t strike twice. Her heart twisted ominously when she considered that the experience for him must be so much more banal.
Her hand was on his shoulder, and as she moved it down she felt some puckered skin. She lifted her head to look and saw some kind of scar. She’d never noticed it before. She touched it with a finger, tracing the outline, and could feel Rocco tense.
‘What’s this?’ she asked.
His chest moved. ‘I fell off my bike when I was a child.’
Gracie looked at him suspiciously. His eyes were still closed and she’d bet money that that was a lie. It had come out far too glibly. But why would he lie?
Knowing that he would be as likely to open up to her as he would to forgive Steven for his crime, she veered away from danger and said instead, ‘When I woke up first we were flying over snow-capped mountains. What were they?’
‘It was most likely the Himalayas.’
‘Wow …’ Gracie breathed. Feeling a little emotional, she said, ‘I can’t believe I might have been looking at Everest.’
Rocco shrugged minutely and said, ‘Could have been.’
He opened sleepy eyes and his vaguely bored tone affected Gracie. She half slithered, half climbed off his body and looked at him ‘You don’t have a clue how privileged you are, do you? Is it really so easy to take everything for granted?’
She stood up from the bed, self-conscious in her nudity, and looked around for her clothes. But her wrist was grabbed and she was pulled back down. Rocco
’s eyes were dark and unreadable.
‘I don’t take it for granted,’ he bit out. ‘Not one second of it.’