A Devilishly Dark Deal

by Maggie Cox

  ‘And is my receiving this cheque for the charity conditional on whether I accept your offer or not?’

  Marco shook his head. Even if making his offer conditional was the only way to get her to sleep with him, he wouldn’t do it. He might have a propensity sometimes to be a little ruthless in his business dealings, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he even attempted to coerce or blackmail a woman like Grace. She might be a self-confessed romantic but he didn’t want to be the one to shatter that pretty illusion …

  ‘No it isn’t. The cheque is yours, come what may. You have my word on that.’

  She sighed and her relief was palpable. ‘Thank you. While we’re talking so frankly, there’s something I need to tell you. The thing is—the thing is sex isn’t a simple or casual thing for me … I think you should know that. Being a friend or companion to you while you’re on a break is one thing … intimacy is entirely another.’

  Saying nothing, Marco simply watched the visible interplay of emotions crossing her face, silently drawing his own conclusions about them.

  ‘Can I give you my answer about this tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘Only I’d like some time to think it over. Also, in spite of my nap on your very comfortable couch, I’m still feeling rather tired. Do you mind if I don’t stay for dinner? I hope your housekeeper hasn’t gone to too much trouble getting the food ready …’

  On his feet in a flash, Marco dropped his hands to his hips and ruefully shook his head. At least she hadn’t given him a flat-out no in response to his frank admission that he wanted to take her to bed, he mused. As once again he fell under the spell of her incandescent crystal gaze he determinedly held onto that. Not that it had really surprised him when Grace told him that sex wasn’t a simple or casual thing for her. Even before she’d revealed that nugget of information he’d sensed that she was a woman who would need to be seduced in the most subtle and artful of ways … If he was too demanding too soon she would quickly depart for good, never to be seen by him again, most likely. And now that he was set on making her his lover that was the very last scenario he wanted.

  ‘Inês will be happy to accede to whatever arrangements I make for dinner—no matter how many times I may change them. What is much more important to me right now is that I have your promise that you will return tomorrow, Grace.’

  ‘You have it. I’m a woman of my word, so I’ll come back tomorrow and give you my answer then.’

  ‘Good. If you follow me, we will go and find Miguel to drive you home. In the morning he will return to your villa to collect you.’

  ‘Thanks. Thanks also for taking me to lunch today. I really enjoyed the food and your company.’ She smiled shyly, but then her glance darted helplessly to the cheque still lying on the desk.

  Immediately Marco picked it up and handed it to her. ‘You might want to post this to the charity.’ He smiled, ‘You can tell them that I will write soon, to confirm that I am in full agreement with them using it to help the children.’

  ‘I’ll also give them your address here, so that they can forward their thanks to you. Can you tell me what it is?’

  He collected a sheet of personally addressed notepaper from the wooden letter-holder on his desk and gave it to her. Something told him she would put the task top of her list of priorities and the idea touching him, a warm sensation flooded into his heart.

  ‘Well, I expect I should get home now.’

  The shy smile that he was fast becoming addicted to returned.

  ‘Let’s go and find Miguel. I see now that you are indeed very tired. The sooner you get back to your villa and go to bed, the better.’

  The repetitive thump on the villa’s front door made Grace blearily open her eyes. Turning her head, she glanced at the clock sitting atop the neat pine cabinet and released a disbelieving groan followed by a very unladylike curse. Good God! She’d slept the evening and the night away. She hadn’t stirred once, not even to go to the loo. Now it was a little after ten, and some determined caller sounded as if they were intent on breaking down her door. Her dad wouldn’t be best pleased if they caused any damage … Even as she had the thought she remembered that Marco had promised to send his car for her, to take her back to the palatial mansion that was his residence. Then she remembered the reason for her return. Her insides did a one-hundred-and-eighty degree roll. She muttered another ripe curse. How could she have forgotten such a commitment for even a second? No matter how tired she was?

  Grabbing the short textured cotton robe at the end of the bed, she hurriedly got to her feet and pulled it on over her matching white nightdress. Barefoot, she flung open the door and moved quickly down the cool tiled corridor that led to the front of the house.

  ‘Olà, Senhorita Faulkner.’

  The chauffeur Miguel stood on the other side of the door. Conscious that her hair was tousled and uncombed, and that her short robe perhaps revealed too much leg for her to be comfortable displaying in front of almost a stranger, Grace pulled the sides of the garment more securely round her, then lightly knotted the belt. ‘Hello, Miguel,’ she answered, silently noting the faint surprise in his deep black eyes that she had addressed him by his name. ‘I’m really sorry but I’m afraid I overslept. As you can see, I’ve just got out of bed, and I’m nowhere near ready to leave yet. Do you want to come back for me later … after lunch, maybe?’

  ‘No, Senhorita Faulkner. Senhor Aguilar will not be happy if I do not return with you this morning, as arranged.’

  She could well believe it. A man who probably just had to snap his fingers to have his every whim fulfilled would clearly not be happy if Grace had the audacity to be late … especially when he had been so generous with his donation to the charity. She didn’t know much about the culture in Portugal, but she’d heard via her dad that to be late for an appointment with someone—especially someone high up the business world hierarchy—was considered a serious lack of respect.

  ‘In that case you’ll just have to come in and wait while I get myself ready.’ She held the door wide to allow the chauffeur entrance into the hallway, but he stayed right where he was, his tanned face impassive as a rock.

  ‘I am sorry, Senhorita Faulkner, but that would not be at all appropriate. In any case I must phone Senhor Aguilar right away and explain the reason for our delay. Then I will wait for you in the car.’

  Grace watched him walk with purposeful gait back to the gleaming black Mercedes parked outside the villa’s entrance, with its climbing red and pink bougainvillaea trailing up traditional white-painted walls. Then she turned on her heel and headed straight for the bathroom and the quickest shower she could manage—all the while apprehensively contemplating what her answer should be when Marco Aguilar asked her if she’d decided whether or not she would become his companion for the rest of her time in the Algarve.

  Remembering the cheque he’d donated to the charity, and imagining what joy such an amount would bring to everyone concerned with the desperate and poor orphaned children it had been set up to help support, she already knew that his offer would be hard to turn down. Yesterday, when she’d sensed that Marco had very definitely not come to terms with his emotionally impoverished childhood it had made her want to know more about this darkly enigmatic man. And when she thought about the way he made her feel, the effect he had on her body … Maybe if she allowed herself to experience intimacy with him it might be a way to help herself overcome the pain of her ex’s attempted rape and allow her to move on psychologically too, and truly put that horrific episode behind her?

  On her arrival at the palatial villa, his housekeeper Inês greeted her with the invitation to wait in garden while Marco finished an important phone call. Sitting under a parasol in her host’s incredibly beautiful private shaded garden, Grace made herself breathe out very slowly to help calm her nerves. Her time with Marco yesterday had taken on the surreal quality of an unbelievable dream. Finding herself yet again with the prospect of not only his arresting company but a conversation s
he was bound by promise to have with him about his proposition it was surely understandable that she should be seized by sudden nerves?

  Reaching for the long cool glass of lemonade that Inês had thoughtfully brought her, she glanced down at the sleeveless red and white maxi-dress that she’d donned. It was one of only two dresses she had packed to come out here, and it was pretty and cool in the heat and indisputably feminine. It certainly wasn’t the kind of clothing she wore every day. At work she invariably got away with the much more casual attire of T-shirt and jeans, and sometimes a trouser suit if she had to go a meeting with a potential patron. Now she was glad of the protection of the parasol, as already she sensed her exposed shoulders were frying a little beneath the hot sun.

  She sipped her drink. Time ticked by. A drowsy buzzing insect flew right by her ear and startled her. She wondered how long Marco would be, then decided there was no option other than to try and relax and simply enjoy a garden that had all the seductive attributes of a floral sensual paradise. Sighing, she briefly shut her eyes to appreciate more fully the sweet bouquet of the yellow and white gardenias that wafted beneath her nose and the hypnotic sound of the splashing waterfall just a few feet from where she sat.

  But suddenly impinging on her enjoyment came the contrasting images and sounds of an African city slum, where the poorly erected houses were fashioned from mud and metal and where the children played in an area teeming with heaving mounds of garbage. The heat there was unbearable and stifling, and made even more intense by the ever-present heavy smog …

  The disturbing memory jolted her sickeningly and tears of compassion and frustration because more people didn’t try and do something to alleviate the situation surged hotly into her eyes.

  ‘My sincere apologies for keeping you waiting, Grace. Ah … I see that Inês has given you a cool drink? That’s good. Today is going to be even hotter than yesterday, I believe.’

  She hadn’t heard his soft-footed approach across the grass, and when she opened her eyes to acknowledge the figure that instantly captivated her gaze, the nerves she’d tried hard to subdue sprang into unsettling life again. The sight of Marco wearing an immaculate white shirt, with the sleeves casually rolled up to just beneath his elbows, and fawn-coloured chinos that were clearly meant to be equally casual but on his tall, athletic frame looked effortlessly stylish and elegant too made her heartbeat hop, skip and jump, and her mouth turned as dry as though she hadn’t had a drop of water to drink for days.

  Before she could summon up words of greeting, he moved towards her and leaned down to plant a sizzling little kiss at the corner of her startled lips.

  ‘I—I didn’t mind waiting,’ she responded at last, with the imprint of his warm mouth lingering disturbingly, like an intimate brand. ‘It’s so lovely out here, and anyway … it was me that was late in the first place. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I overslept.’

  ‘So Miguel explained.’ His dark eyes twinkled. Then he pulled out the sunchair opposite Grace at the table and adjusted the aviator sunglasses he’d been wearing on the top of his head over his eyes.

  Now it would be impossible for her to guess what he was thinking …

  His unexpectedly personal greeting had set off a veritable firework display of reaction inside her, and she knew that any remaining reservations she had about accepting his offer were assuredly being demolished one by one. She made a discreet attempt to wipe the moisture from her eyes that had arisen when she’d mentally been transported back to Africa and her handsome companion frowned. ‘Is everything all right? You seem a little upset,’ he commented.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She made herself respond with a reassuring smile, even though the slight quaver in her voice no doubt made a liar of her.

  ‘I do not entirely believe you, but I hope you can put whatever troubles you to one side so that you can enjoy the day. It is far too beautiful to be sad, yes?’

  Marco wondered at the cause of the distress reflected in Grace’s crystal-clear blue eyes. He prayed it wasn’t bad news from home that would make her cut short her stay. He schooled himself to relax, studying her pleasingly curvaceous form in the very becoming red and white dress, her golden hair curling prettily down over her shoulders. The arresting sigh of her intensified the drugging sensual heat that had already invaded him at the prospect of seeing her again.

  Anticipating the long break that he intended, he’d informed all of this morning’s telephone callers that he would only be contactable if there was an emergency—at the back of his mind had been the irresistible thought that he intended to be far too preoccupied with the lovely girl he’d found himself infatuated with to think about business. The kiss he’d planted at the corner of Grace’s pretty mouth just now had been an exciting revelation. Her skin was softer than velvet and down combined. She’d smelled irresistible too. Recognising the alluring French scent, he made a mental note to send some to her villa as a gift.

  Now he would not wait a moment longer to ask her the question that had ensured he’d more or less had a sleepless night because he hadn’t been able to stop dwelling upon the outcome of it …

  ‘So, Grace … I trust you have now had plenty of time to think over my proposition? What will be your answer, I wonder?’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  GRACE didn’t answer him straight away, but appeared to be thinking deeply. He knew it was in his nature to be impatient, but the tension that gathered in the pit of Marco’s stomach as he waited for her to speak made him feel as if he was wearing an increasingly tightening iron band round his middle. No woman had ever said no to spending time with him before … was this engaging British girl going to be the first?

  Folding her hands in her lap, she locked her brilliant blue gaze with his at last and a tentative smile gently raised the corners of her lips. ‘My answer is … Well, it’s yes. And I’m going to be honest with you … The reason I’ve said yes is that I—I …’ Gnawing at her lip her cheeks turned engagingly pink.

  ‘Go on,’ Marco encouraged.

  ‘I’ve discovered that I am attracted to you. Otherwise I wouldn’t consider it—no matter how lovely the inducements. And I was going to be on my own the entire time I was here, and now I have someone to share my holiday with … I’m grateful.’

  He’d told her once before that her honesty was refreshing, but never had it mattered more to him than right now. She knew exactly what he was asking and had accepted the offer he’d made because she was attracted to him. She hadn’t run away or taken refuge behind being coy. She had admitted that she liked him outright. Now there was no need for any tedious mind games or manipulation. All they had to do was let nature take its course. Marco had not the slightest doubt that it would …

  ‘I’m very pleased you’ve accepted my offer, Grace. Now all we have to do is get to know each other a little and enjoy ourselves.’ Rising to his feet, he took her by the hands and gently urged her up from her chair. ‘Fortunately you are perfectly dressed for what I have in mind today. Some time ago I received an invitation from a business acquaintance of mine to attend a garden party she is having. At the time I told her I wasn’t sure whether I would even be in the country, but now that I am and you have agreed to be my companion … I think we will go.’

  ‘A garden party, you say?’

  Still holding onto her hands, and noticing the brief flare of doubt in her eyes, Marco smiled. ‘You know …? Champagne, exquisite food, music played soothingly in the background by a specially hired professional ensemble and some amicable conversation with our host and the other guests in a setting just as beautiful as this … It’s the perfect way to start our holiday together, don’t you agree?’

  ‘It all sounds rather grand. The garden parties I’ve personally experienced have been on a much more modest scale … usually thrown by my mum and dad. My mum spends the entire week before frantically cleaning the house and planning what food to buy, while my dad is relegated to the garden to cut the grass and make sure the barbecue is clean
and ready for use. The guests are generally extended family and friends—some of whom have young children. There’s no soothing music playing, but generally there’s plenty of hilarity and laughter amongst the children playing on my dad’s pristine newly cut lawn.’ Grimacing, she gently tugged her captive hands free to smooth them down over her dress, ‘I’m sorry … I’m babbling again. That’s because I’m nervous.’

  ‘Am I so intimidating that you have to be nervous of me?’ Marco frowned, quite charmed by her sharing of the experience of garden parties with her parents and their friends. Silently he attested to feeling rather envious of Grace’s very normal-sounding and happy family life. In contrast to growing up without parents or any other family at all how could he not? ‘Now that you have accepted my invitation, I’d like to think you can relax and just be yourself around me. If you are wary of me for any reason then you will put up a guard, and that is the very last thing I want.’

  ‘I’ve never met anyone like you before, Marco.’ He heard the quiet intake of breath she softly released. ‘And I’ve certainly never been around great wealth or fame before. I’ll try not to be intimidated by you, or the company you keep, but I can’t pretend it won’t be a challenge. I’m a girl from a very ordinary background, and I’ve never mixed with the kind of people who inhabit your world. I still can’t understand why you’d even ask someone like me to spend time with you. Surely you must … you must know plenty of much more suitable women?’

  ‘If you knew these so-called “more suitable” women, you would not even ask me that question, Grace.’

  Folding his arms across his chest, Marco realised he was feeling quite bereft because she’d withdrawn her hands from his clasp. He yearned to grab them back and hold them again. Already he was addicted to the touch of her peerlessly soft skin.