by Maggie Cox
It had been a revelation just how much she’d enjoyed it. Since that dreadful incident with her ex-boyfriend she’d secretly feared another man kissing her, in case she was immediately repelled by the contact. But the opposite had happened. Even now the memory of Marco’s lips against hers made her tingle fiercely and long for more … much more of the same. She briefly held her breath at the thought, then batted away a buzzing insect that brushed against her cheek. The day was once again incredibly hot, and the soporific intensity of it was making her drowsy. She wished that she’d remembered to bring the straw hat she’d left lying on a chair in her villa’s hallway.
Just then there was a break in the music, and when Grace opened her eyes she was taken aback to find a small auburn-haired girl standing in front her. The child’s skin was as fair as her own, but she was sensibly wearing a sunhat, its brim decorated with very becoming pink and white daisies.
‘What’s your name?’ the girl demanded, head tipped to one side and jade-green eyes squinting in the sunshine.
Grace smiled. ‘My name is Grace,’ she answered. ‘What’s yours?’
‘I’m Cindy Mae Roberts and I’m here with my daddy. He’s a movie star.’
Glancing round the various little knots of men and women gathered together on the rolling lawn, Grace saw this little girl appeared to be the only child there. Instantly Grace’s heart went out to her, perhaps doubly so because she had the onerous legacy of Lincoln Roberts’ world-wide fame to contend with growing up. ‘Well, Cindy, I’m very pleased to meet you.’
She held out her hand but the child ignored it, demanding instead, ‘Are you in the movies? If you are I’ve never heard of you.’
‘That’s because I’m not … in the movies, I mean.’
‘Then what do you do?’
‘I work in London for a charity that helps children who are orphaned and abandoned.’
‘That must be so boring!’
Grace’s lips curved in a gently understanding smile. ‘It’s not boring at all … it’s quite the opposite, in fact. It’s wonderful to help make children happy—especially children who don’t have any parents or anyone else to love them and look after them. It’s very satisfying.’
An expression crossed Cindy’s freckled face that was surprisingly thoughtful. ‘Do you really like children, then?’
‘Of course. I like them very much.’
‘My daddy doesn’t. He just thinks they’re a nuisance … At least, he thinks I am. I’m glad I only stay with him now and again, because sometimes he’s not very nice. The other times I live with my mom in New York … she’s very nice.’
Now Grace’s heart really did go out to the girl. What a horrible thing for any child to believe … that her father thought her a nuisance. She noticed that Cindy held a lime-green tennis ball down by her side. ‘Didn’t any other children come to the garden party for you to play with?’ she asked.
‘No. My daddy said one little nuisance was enough, without inviting any more, and Francesca agreed. She doesn’t like children either.’
Grimacing at that, Grace immediately got to her feet. ‘How about a game of catch?’ she suggested, smoothing her hands down over her dress and at the same time kicking off her backless sandals, then bending down to pick them up and carry them.
The child’s vivid green eyes lit up like a light bulb. ‘Really? I’d love that!’
‘Good. Then let’s go and find a big patch of grass where we won’t get in the way of people with their drinks.’
‘Sure.’ The child unhesitatingly slipped her hand trustingly in Grace’s and beamed up at her with a look of unconstrained anticipation and delight.
CHAPTER SIX
MARCO was looking for Grace, but she’d somehow disappeared. He’d met and conversed with a few people from the corporate world with genuinely interesting ideas and a couple of business propositions they’d asked him to think about, but none of them—neither the people nor the ideas—held his attention like she did. Now he experienced a sense of irritation mingled with discomfiting panic that he couldn’t find her. Where had she got to, for goodness’ sake? Had it been too much to ask for her to wait for him by the fountain where he’d left her?
After asking a couple of guests nearby if they’d seen a very attractive blonde wearing a long red and white dress, and having them regretfully shake their heads, a frustrated Marco headed across the grass to where his two loyal employees were deep in conversation by the parked cars.
‘Have either of you seen Miss Faulkner?’ he demanded.
‘She’s over there by the pine trees.’ Miguel pointed helpfully, with what appeared to be an almost indulgent and knowing smile crossing his face. ‘She’s playing catch with Senhor Roberts’ young daughter. There are no other children here, and she said that the child was looking for somebody to play with her.’
‘So naturally Miss Faulkner volunteered?’ Feeling somewhat bemused, Marco thought wryly that he shouldn’t be surprised. It seemed that whenever children’s needs were on the radar Grace would somehow be involved. He’d had no idea that Lincoln even had a daughter, because the man had never so much as mentioned her in his hearing. Clearly that didn’t bode well for her. Poor kid …
He found himself reflecting that there wasn’t one other single woman he knew who would put a child’s enjoyment before her own, or potentially give up the chance to make an impression—especially at a gathering like this, where celebrities and influential guests could literally be picked off like cherries from a tree …
‘She has a very kind heart,’ his chauffeur observed—unnecessarily, Marco thought.
‘Her conduct so far definitely seems to bear that out,’ he commented. ‘In any case, I think I will go and join her. The pair of you should go and get yourselves a drink. It is a particularly hot day, no?’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘And stop grinning like I’m the butt of some kind of joke I don’t know about! ’
‘Yes, boss.’
Shrugging irritably, Marco turned away to stride down towards the bank of pine trees, where he’d already caught a glimpse of Grace’s very fetching red and white dress and the bright banner of a child’s auburn hair.
His elusive lady had missed her catch and dropped down onto one knee, laughing out loud as the small girl standing a few feet away from her clapped her hands together and squealed in delight, ‘I caught you out again! I thought you’d get better but you’re really not very good at this at all, are you?’ she taunted.
‘That’s why they called me butter-fingers at school,’ Grace replied good-humouredly. And then in the next instant her cornflower-blue eyes widened when she saw that Marco stood watching them. Now he was the lucky recipient of her bright, engaging smile. ‘Hi, there,’ she called out, ‘did you have a good time chatting with your friends?’
He had the same incredulous reaction he probably would have had if he’d been singled out for special attention by the Queen of England herself. Warring with a great desire to grin back at her like some infatuated schoolboy, instead he shaped his lips into a sardonically tinged smile. ‘I was not “chatting with my friends” as you so ingenuously put it, Grace. You do not “chat” with a prominent executive of the Banco de Portugal as if he were a long-lost buddy you last saw in the school playground!’
‘Obviously not, if he takes himself as seriously as you do.’
Dumbstruck by her audacity, Marco nonetheless saw the funny side of Grace’s lightning-quick irreverent reply. Before the idea had even formed in his mind he was striding across the perfectly mown grass to take hold of her by the waist and haul her to her feet. ‘You deserve to be severely punished for that,’ he told her, a husky catch in his voice.
The laughter in her eyes immediately died. It was replaced by the kind of fearful look that shocked Marco to his boots. She was genuinely terrified, he saw. He instantly released her. Inside his chest his heart was thumping as hard as a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil.
‘
I was only joking,’ he stared back into her apprehensive glance ruefully shaking his head. ‘Are you okay? Do you always react like this when a man makes a harmless jest?’
‘No.’ She forced a smile, but distinct wariness had replaced the joyful laughter of only a few moments ago.
Marco felt as if he’d just lost something precious.
‘You took me by surprise, that’s all,’ she finished.
Her soft golden hair had been tousled by her energetic game with the girl and lay across her pale satin shoulders in inviting buttery curls. God help him, but he ached to drive his fingers through those silken strands and then lift them away from her beautiful face so that he could kiss her passionately—just as he’d dared to do earlier, when they’d been heading towards the fountain to listen to the music. Only this time he would not be in any hurry to relinquish those petal-soft lips for anyone or anything.
‘I apologise if I frightened you. That was definitely not my intention. I came to find you to tell you that the buffet is ready and I think we should go and eat. Will you come with me?’
He despised the uncertainty he heard in his voice—uncertainty that Grace would agree to go anywhere with him after that look of dread on her face when he had hauled her to her feet to chastise her playfully. For a woman to have such a hold over him that she made him doubt his powers of persuasion, the fact that he could have anything he wanted and not be refused, was dangerous, he reflected. A genuine first for him …
To Marco’s intense relief she nodded, shrugging the slender shoulders exposed by her sleeveless dress. ‘Of course. I am feeling rather hungry come to think of it. Cindy can come with us. By the way, Cindy is Lincoln Roberts’ daughter—perhaps you two have met before?’
‘No. I have not had the privilege.’ He turned to smile at the auburn-haired girl with the bright green eyes that she must have inherited from her mother. None of her dainty features remotely resembled her father’s. She was moving warily towards them. When she was level he lightly shook her hand. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you Cindy. My name is Marco.’
‘Marco Aguilar?’
He frowned in amusement. The child had sounded much older than her years when she’d asked that. ‘That’s right.’
‘My daddy told me to mind my manners if I spoke to you. He said that you’re a very important man … very rich too.’
Forming a nonchalant smile, nonetheless Marco was irritated. The child’s innocent remark had once again brought home the sobering fact that he only seemed to be of interest to people because of his wealth and success—not because they enjoyed his company. For years now he’d been okay with that. He was a realist like he’d told Grace. But lately, for some reason, his wealth and success didn’t seem to be enough to fill the sense of emptiness inside him.
‘Grace and I are going to get some lunch. Would you like to join us?’ Deciding that it was probably best to ignore the child’s comments—after all, she wasn’t responsible for her father’s mercenary attitude—he chose to press on with his own plans.
‘No, thanks. I’m going back to my room for a while. Thanks for playing catch with me, Grace … even though you can’t catch! Will you be okay with Mr Aguilar?’ The green eyes flashed suspiciously as they turned back to Marco.
He shrugged ironically as he glanced from her over to Grace. ‘Think you’ll be okay with me?’ he asked lightly, praying he would never see that haunted look of fear in her eyes ever again.
‘Of course I’ll be okay,’ she settled her gaze confidently on Cindy. ‘Mr Aguilar is a friend … a friend that I trust,’ she told her.
Warmth cascaded into his insides at her unhesitating reply.
‘Bye, then.’ With a brief wave, the small girl danced away.
‘She acts a bit like a prickly pear, but underneath she’s a sweet little thing,’ Grace murmured, colouring a little as she bent down to the grass to slip her sandals back on. ‘She just needs her father to show her a bit more love and affection—that’s my guess.’
The observation made Marco feel a little hollow inside, because he knew that it was most likely true. ‘You certainly looked as though you were enjoying yourselves.’
‘It’s always good to remind yourself what fun it can be to behave like a child again. It helps us grown-ups not to be so serious, don’t you think?’
‘I’m sure that’s true—if you were lucky enough to experience having fun as a child. Not everyone is so fortunate.’ The words were out before Marco had the chance to check them. Feeling awkward, and annoyed that he’d inadvertently revealed something about his past that he normally took pains to conceal, he felt hot, embarrassed colour sear his cheeks.
‘Marco? I’m sorry if I—’
‘Let’s go and get some food, shall we? And you ought to get out of this heat for a while. You look hot and flushed after your exertions, Grace. We’ll go and find some shade.’
Grace couldn’t honestly have recounted what she’d eaten that day if anybody had asked. The food that had been laid out so abundantly and extravagantly onto the white linen cloths at the buffet tables had been a colourful and sumptuous banquet. Yet it hadn’t tempted her at all. She’d merely picked at the few items that a waitresses had put on her plate.
After the comment Marco had made suggesting that not everyone was lucky enough to remember having fun as a child, she’d lapsed into a quiet reverie about him, her mind tumbling with questions that she ached to have answers to. He was a man that to the acquisitive outside world seemed to have everything anyone could ever want—certainly in terms of a successful career and the material wealth that it had brought him. But behind the soulful dark eyes that she now knew had the indisputable power to make her melt whenever he trained them on her, Grace had glimpsed a man who had had his fair share of heartache too, and she longed to discover the truth about that and perhaps to somehow ease some of his pain.
But she hadn’t forgotten the river of icy shock that had cascaded through her bloodstream when he’d hauled her to her feet and said, ‘You deserve to be severely punished for that.’ Her drunken ex-boyfriend Chris had said something similar that horrible evening.
Of course Marco had only been teasing, but somehow his innocent action had unleashed the frightening memory of that devastating incident, and now it made her wonder again if she would ever be able to enjoy intimacy with a man without being afraid. She prayed that she would … More than that, she was determined that she would.
When Marco suggested that they should leave, Grace was honestly relieved. Not for want of trying, she had endeavoured to converse with the other guests at their table, but it had quickly become apparent that the social and material gulf between them was vast—too vast to be bridged even at a so-called ‘relaxed’ social function like this. How could she relate to a vacuous conversation that centred primarily round yachts, private planes and the latest Paris fashion trends? It was a joke. To be honest, she was genuinely sorry that they had such empty lives, with nothing other than the fruits of their material wealth and the desire for more of the same to occupy their minds.
Heading back to Marco’s villa in the luxurious confines of his car, after a second flurry of paparazzi interest at the gates as they drove out, they both fell quiet. Had the desire he’d expressed to have her spend the rest of her holiday with him dissipated in light of the now obvious fact that Grace clearly didn’t gel in any way with the elite social set that he moved in? If he now wanted her to leave then it would make it hard for her to accept the cheque he’d made out to the charity—not because she didn’t greatly desire them to have it, but simply because she would feel that she’d let him down in some way.
‘Marco …?’
Their gazes met and locked at the same time. A knowing smile raised the corners of her companion’s sculpted lips. ‘Please don’t tell me that you now have reservations about our arrangement. I know the garden party must have been extremely tedious for you, and it was wrong of me to imagine that you might enjoy it, but for the res
t of the day I will let you decide what we will do. Just name it and I will endeavour to make it happen. Any ideas?’
Stunned that he wanted her to stay, Grace stared. ‘I thought—I thought that you’d had enough of me,’ she lifted her shoulders in a painfully self-conscious shrug. ‘You must have seen that I was like a fish out of water at lunch? I didn’t have anything remotely in common with any of those people.’
‘And I thank God that you didn’t, Grace. But if you believe that you have nothing they might admire or want then I have to tell you that you’re wrong. Why do you think that they were practically falling over themselves to tell you about their expensive toys and hobbies? I will tell you why: it was because they wanted to impress you. When they didn’t get the reaction they wanted it probably made them feel quite insecure and jealous.’
‘I can’t believe that … Jealous of what?’
Marco sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. ‘Your ability to simply be yourself … your innocence … You radiate the kind of goodness and beauty that money can’t buy, and that’s unsettling to people who believe they have it all.’ His gaze intensified a little as he observed her, as though a slow fire simmered behind it. ‘And I have definitely not had enough of you, meu anjo. Nowhere near enough.’
The water was deliciously and delightfully cool after the heat of the day. As Grace swam lap after lap of the azure marble-edged pool in the opulent villa she sensed the tension that she’d been holding in her body fall away and some measure of peace return. Marco had readily concurred when she’d told him she’d really like to go for a swim, and her pleasure at his agreement had soared when he’d shown her the beautiful outdoor pool in a secluded section of the landscaped gardens that she hadn’t visited yet.