The Legend of de Marco

by Abby Green

  For a long moment she just looked at him stupidly, not believing her eyes, and then the emotion she’d been denying herself erupted into noisy sobs and she threw herself into his skinny arms. He grabbed her tight and stroked her back and shushed her.

  Without knowing how they’d got there, Gracie found herself sitting on a couch, with Steven pushing a glass with amber liquid in it into her hand.

  She sucked in a shuddery breath, her face and eyes felt swollen. ‘I don’t drink.’

  Her brother insisted. ‘You do now—go on; you need it.’

  Gracie took a sip and grimaced when her insides seemed to burst into flame. She coughed a little. As the drink brought her back to life and she registered that it was really her brother sitting in front of her panic gripped her. She grabbed his hand. ‘Wait. You can’t be here—Rocco is just downstairs. If he finds you—’

  She stopped talking when she felt her skin tingle and saw Steven look at something—or someone—over her head. She turned to see a pale-looking Rocco with his hands in his pockets.

  ‘I know he’s here. He came to see me first when he arrived.’ Rocco smiled faintly but it looked strained.

  Gracie was tense. She didn’t understand Rocco’s lack of anger, or her brother’s lack of urgency. She tore her eyes from Rocco. ‘Steven … what …?’

  He smiled and looked tired. ‘It’s a long story. I’ve explained everything to Mr de Marco. I was blackmailed, Gracie, by some guys I knew in prison. They knew where I was working and they had some knowledge of fraud and inside trading. They threatened to expose me to Mr de Marco. I was terrified I’d lose the best thing that had ever happened to me … The whole thing escalated until they wanted too much money and I panicked and ran …’

  Steven glanced at Rocco, and Gracie saw the respect in his face.

  ‘Mr de Marco has promised not to prosecute if I can help him track these guys down.’ He looked back to Gracie. ‘Depending on how much money we can recover, I’ll still owe a lot to Mr de Marco—but he’s offered me a job to get me back on my feet so I can start paying him back. Gracie, I don’t deserve this chance. But I’m not going to mess up again. I promise.’

  Gracie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was in shock. And then she heard Rocco say to Steven, ‘Would you give us a moment, here? Mrs Jones will show you to a room.’

  Steven nodded and pressed Gracie’s hands. ‘Are you okay?’

  Gracie wanted to laugh hysterically. She’d never been less okay. But she nodded her head and watched her brother walk out of the room with his loping, slightly awkward gait.

  Rocco walked into her field of vision and Gracie could only look up at him, willing down the tendrils of sensation and feelings that were too close to the surface. ‘Why did you do this? Why are you giving him a chance? After everything—’

  ‘Everything I said?’ he finished for her, in a voice so harsh she flinched minutely. Rocco cursed in Italian. ‘I’m sorry.’ He turned away then, as if he couldn’t bear for her to look at him, and said rawly, ‘God, Gracie. I’m so sorry.’

  He turned back after long seconds.

  ‘I was an idiot—a stupid, blind fool. When I read your e-mail I twisted it so that I could believe the worst. Last night in New York you got too close, too deep. I’d never told anyone about myself before, and yet with you … it all came out. And you didn’t turn away in horror or shock. You embraced it.’

  He pulled over a chair to sit in front of her. His eyes burned.

  ‘I didn’t set up the newspaper story. You have to believe that. When I saw the picture it was the first time I thought it might flush Steven out. I hadn’t even considered that possibility before. But I let you believe I had because I was so desperate to push you away.’

  Rocco grimaced, and Gracie could see the wildness in his eyes—but this was a different wildness.

  ‘I knew deep down that you were none of the things I accused you of yesterday. I seduced you because I couldn’t not.’ He shook his head, disgust with himself palpable. ‘I lashed out because I’ve never trusted anyone in my life until you. And then when Steven turned up today and came straight to me, demanding to know what was going on between us, the sheer evidence of the lengths he’d go to to make sure you were okay humbled me. I had nothing left to hide behind.’

  A tiny flicker of hope burst to flame in Gracie’s heart, as if a magical thaw was starting.

  Rocco said fervently, ‘I should never have kept you here in the first place, but the truth is that it always had more to do with how you made me feel rather than anything to do with your brother.’

  The flame inside Gracie trembled. ‘What are you saying?’

  Rocco took her hand. Gracie willed down the immediate physical reaction.

  ‘I can’t stop you leaving if you want to. But I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay … for as long as you want.’

  ‘For as long as I want?’ Gracie asked faintly. The fragile flame inside her sputtered dangerously.

  Rocco nodded. ‘We have something, Gracie. Something powerful.’

  Gracie pulled her hand free of Rocco’s. What he meant was that they had desire. Physical attraction. And he wanted her to stay until it had burnt itself out.

  Before she could say anything he was grimacing slightly and looking at his watch. ‘Look, I’ve got to go to a meeting. I can’t reschedule it. Think about what I’ve said. We’ll talk when I get back … okay?’

  He just looked at her, and Gracie felt numb.

  He said, ‘Please?’ and she realised that he wasn’t going to move until she said something. Dumbly she nodded. She saw relief relax his features.

  He didn’t say anything else. Just stood up and walked out.

  Gracie might have nodded to signify assent, but she knew what she had to do. She had to leave—to get away. Rocco wanted a brief relationship. He’d said nothing about love. And she couldn’t deal with that—not knowing how she felt. Not knowing how deeply in love with him she was. He could never have hurt her so badly yesterday if she didn’t love him.

  She was just a temporary diversion. Rocco would choose an ice princess to be his partner some day, and Gracie wanted to hate him for that—but how could she when she knew how badly he craved that ultimate acceptance? When she knew how hard he’d struggled to leave his past behind so he could get it? Didn’t he deserve it after the tragedy and pain he’d endured? She of all people couldn’t deny him that.

  Moving on autopilot, Gracie packed her paltry belongings and penned two brief notes—one for Rocco and another for her brother. She couldn’t even bear to see Steven right now, terrified he’d convince her to stay. When she went to the entrance of the apartment to leave a different bodyguard was on duty to let her out and she was glad. Seeing George might have shattered her brittle control completely.

  Two weeks later.

  Gracie was struggling through the dense crowd and had to hold the full tray of empty glasses practically over her head to get through. Even as she cursed, and sweat rolled down her back and between her breasts, she tried to stop herself from griping. With this job she would be able to afford to move out of the hostel in a few weeks and find somewhere cheap to rent. And once she had somewhere of her own she would put aside a few hours every day and work on her idea for the children’s book.

  Gracie heaved a sigh of relief when she saw the kitchen doors ahead. She went in and put the tray down, but was immediately handed another full tray of champagne by her boss, who said cheerily, ‘They’re a thirsty lot tonight.’

  She stifled a weary sigh and went out again. If anything the crowd seemed even denser now, and she looked at the vast, unmoving sea of men in black and women in glittering finery and wondered how on earth she could get through.

  Resolutely she started to say, ‘Excuse me …’ and, ‘Sorry …’ but she wasn’t making much progress. Suddenly a frisson of energy went through the crowd, as if someone special had arrived, and people were whispering. People were bunching together no
w and craning their necks. She rolled her eyes and clung on to the tray. No doubt it was some celebrity.

  Then she heard someone say, ‘Oh, my God, he’s getting up on a table.’ And then, ‘Is that really him …?’

  Through the hush that had fallen in the room Gracie heard a familiar voice ringing out. ‘Gracie O’Brien, I know you’re in here somewhere. Where are you?’

  Her heart stopped dead. It couldn’t be. She was hallucinating.

  The voice came again, with familiar impatience, ‘Dammit, Gracie, where are you?’

  Now she knew she couldn’t be imagining things.

  Tentatively she looked up, straining to see over taller heads, and her breath stopped in her throat when she saw Rocco way above the crowd, head swivelling back and forth, hands on hips as he stood right in the middle of one of the sumptuous buffet tables.

  He turned in her direction and she ducked too late. She heard his growl of triumph and the sound of feet hitting the floor. She tried to turn and run but by now people had crowded behind her so she was truly trapped.

  As if in slow motion the crowd in front of Gracie parted like the Red Sea and Rocco was revealed. Tall and dark and gorgeous. In a pale blue shirt and dark trousers. Hands on hips. Those dark eyes homing in on her like a laser. His jaw was stubbled and he looked wild. Her hands were shaking so badly now that the glasses wobbled precariously on her tray. Rocco strode forward and took the tray out of her hands, passed it to a stunned pot-bellied man who stood nearby.

  Then he turned back to Gracie. She just stood there and asked, ‘Why are you here, Rocco? I made it clear in my note that I’m not interested in an affair.’

  His mouth tightened and his eyes flashed. ‘Yes, your succinct one-line note: “Dear Rocco, I’m sorry but I’m not interested in an affair. Goodbye. Gracie.” Dio. I wanted to wring your neck when I got that.’

  The entire crowd around them was so silent you could have heard a pin drop, but Gracie could only see one man. Her body was already responding. She clenched her hands tight and kept her eyes up.

  ‘I meant what I said. I’m not interested in an affair.’

  Rocco took a step closer and Gracie moved back.

  ‘Neither am I.’

  Gracie shook her head. ‘But … you only said that we had Something.’

  ‘We do.’

  Gracie felt futile anger rise along with confusion. ‘Rocco … why are you here? I want you to leave me alone. I’m not interested—’

  He took a step closer again. ‘Tell me what you are interested in.’

  Horror filled Gracie and she lied desperately. ‘I’m interested in nothing with you.’

  He smiled. ‘Liar.’

  Immediately she exploded. ‘I’m not a liar. I’ve never lied …’

  Rocco’s tone turned soothing. ‘I know, cara … but I’m afraid that you are lying about this.’

  To her horror and disgust Gracie could feel tears spring into her eyes, and vaguely saw a horrorstruck look cross Rocco’s face. He reached for her and pulled her into him. It was heaven and hell. She couldn’t move in his tight embrace.

  ‘Damn you, Rocco.’ She spoke into his chest and then he pulled her back slightly.

  His hands were around her jaw, caressing her face, catching her tears. He sounded tortured. ‘Don’t cry, piccolina … please. I don’t want to make you cry. Just tell me—what are you interested in?’

  Gracie opened her mouth. She wanted to lash out at the hurt he’d caused her, and the beautiful pain he’d brought into her life by making her fall in love with him, but she couldn’t. She looked up into his dark, harsh face and could only see the man she loved.

  In a quivery voice she said simply, ‘I’m interested in you, Rocco de Marco. I’m interested in everything about you. What moves you, what you want, what makes you happy. I’m interested in making you happy. I’m in love with you, and I’m interested in spending the rest of my life with you—not just having a brief fling. I want more than that.’ A kind of defiant confidence filled her now as her eyes cleared and she saw Rocco hadn’t yet run screaming from the room in horror. ‘Well? Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that truthful enough for you?’

  Rocco smiled now—a smile like Gracie had never seen before—and she caught a glimpse of the youth he must have once been. Her heart turned over again.

  He nodded. ‘Oh, yes, cara. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Because, you see, I love you too—only I held back from saying it that day because I was afraid of scaring you away. I knew you had to hate me for hurting you, and I wanted to woo you slowly and methodically—until you fell so deeply in love with me that you would never leave me. But when I got home you’d gone, and all I found was your note.’

  He said a long stream of words in Italian then, and Gracie touched his jaw wonderingly, finally recognising the signs of strain on his face. For her.

  ‘You’re talking Italian.’

  Rocco grimaced. ‘Since you left I haven’t been able to eat, sleep or speak anything else. I had hideous curtains installed in my office and banished everyone to another floor so they couldn’t witness my pain.’ His face was serious. ‘You brought me back to life, Gracie, and the thought of a life without you in it now terrifies me more than anything else I’ve ever known.’

  Gracie just looked at Rocco. Her whole life flashed before her eyes. She too had always felt somehow alone … until she’d met Rocco. She’d subconsciously handed control over to him from the start, because on some level she’d already trusted him.

  To her utter chagrin tears pricked her eyes again, and she cursed colourfully. ‘I never used to cry until I met you.’

  ‘That’s because you finally realised you didn’t have to be the strong one, the protector all the time.’

  Gracie nodded as tears slipped down her cheeks and he gently caught them. ‘Yes, damn you, yes.’

  In the next second she’d thrown her arms around Rocco’s neck and was in his strong embrace. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and she was sobbing into his neck. And he was crooning to her in Italian, stroking her back.

  She pulled away and looked down at him. ‘God, I love you, Rocco.’

  He looked at her and his eyes darkened. ‘I love you too, Gracie.’

  He was reaching up to kiss her when she pulled back sharply and said, ‘Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you still fancy me and I’m normal? What if I come back and you get tired of me and realise you really do want a society ice princess?’

  Rocco looked around at the open-mouthed crowd. He felt triumph surge through him to be holding the woman he loved in his arms and to know she loved him too. This was the pinnacle of everything he’d ever wanted, and he’d never have known it if he hadn’t met her.

  He looked back to Gracie and said, ‘What do you think?’ He saw her take in the crowd too, and realise just what he’d done. In public. For her. Among the precious peers he’d cared about for so long.

  She blushed and looked at him. ‘Okay, I believe you.’

  ‘I think it’s time to go home.’

  Gracie’s arms were tight around his neck. ‘Yes, please.’

  Much later, when their bodies were finally sated and Gracie didn’t know where she began and Rocco ended, she took in a deep, voluptuous sigh.

  Rocco raised himself up on one arm and looked at her seriously. He brushed some hair from her cheek. ‘The only reason I didn’t tell you I loved you the day you left was because I didn’t want to scare you with the intensity I felt. I wanted to start fresh and woo you as you deserved to be wooed.’

  Gracie smiled wryly. ‘I think it’s safe to say you’ve wooed me, Rocco. I’m a sure thing.’

  He reached behind him to the cabinet and got something. It was hidden in his hand as he said, ‘Well, seeing as how we’ve fast-forwarded past the wooing stage, I’m happy to jump to the next bit.’

  ‘The next bit?’ Gracie came up on her elbow too.

  Rocco was opening a small velvet box, and Gra
cie looked down to see a stunning emerald ring surrounded by diamonds. She looked from it to Rocco.

  He said with a glint in his eye, ‘You can’t take this one back to the shop. It’s on loan for a lifetime.’

  Gracie sat up and pulled the sheet around her. She felt shaky. Rocco took her hand and placed the ring at the top of her finger and looked into her eyes. Gracie felt tears prickle and blinked them back.

  ‘Gracie O’Brien. I love you more than life itself. Would you come to Rio de Janeiro with me next week and become my wife, with George and Steven as our witnesses?’

  Gracie nodded jerkily, tears stinging in earnest now. With a choked voice she answered, ‘Yes. I’d love to come to Rio de Janeiro with you and become your wife.’

  Rocco pushed the ring onto her finger and pulled her into him with a growl of triumph. Their mouths met and clung.

  After a long moment Rocco pulled back and said throatily, ‘Good, because then we can get to the next bit.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Gracie’s voice was breathless.

  Sounding serious all of a sudden, he said, ‘Living the rest of our lives together and having a family we can love and nurture and give everything to that we were denied.’

  Feeling incredibly emotional, because she knew he was waiting to see if she wanted the same thing—which, considering their histories, was not necessarily a given—Gracie touched his cheek and said huskily, ‘I’d like that. A lot.’

  Four years later Gracie looked over the downy head of their newborn baby—a brother to their two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Tessa. She smiled at her husband and said jokingly, ‘Any regrets, Mr de Marco?’

  Tessa shifted sleepily on his shoulder as he leant forward to kiss Gracie tenderly. Love infused the air around them.

  He pulled back after a long moment and said softly, ‘Not for a second.’

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.