Already extracting his mobile phone from a back pocket, her host flashed a disarming grin. A grin that could melt a girl’s insides at fifty paces … ‘I know the perfect restaurant,’ he said.
Another worrying thought seized her—one that she was nervous of drawing attention to. ‘Is it the kind of place where you have to dress up?’ she asked.
Marco’s glance made a leisurely reconnaissance of her face, neck and shoulders. Her blood started to heat the second she drew his gaze. ‘You don’t have to worry about that when you’re with me, meu querida. Besides … your beauty would grace any establishment. It matters not what you are wearing.’ His smile became even more seductive. ‘However … what you have on is extremely becoming.’
‘Even if I’m not up to the standard of your usual guests?’ she quipped daringly.
‘I am sorry I said what I said to you yesterday about your clothes. It was not the behaviour of a gentleman.’
‘But now that you’ve apologised I promise I won’t hold it against you.’
Even as he frowned thoughtfully at this response, Grace’s lips were forming an unrepentantly teasing grin …
Marco’s chauffeur drove them to a three-storeyed restaurant that overlooked the ocean. As they walked up the winding path to the entrance a small group of staff were waiting to greet them—just as if the handsome businessman was someone whose presence lit up their day. They apologised profusely that the manager was away attending his daughter’s wedding and couldn’t be there to welcome Marco and his guest personally.
Her companion had a friendly word with all of them, Grace noticed, acting as if he had all the time in the world to spare. As she watched him effortlessly interact, she reflected on how different he seemed from the way the press depicted him. She hadn’t read a great deal about him, but what she’d read definitely painted him as some kind of playboy, intent on enjoying the fruits his wealth and status had brought him to the maximum. But now, with the palm of his hand pressed lightly against her back, a more immediate realisation troubled her. The thin top she wore ensured that her spine was sizzling beneath his touch, just as though his fingertips had stroked over her naked skin.
A strange sense of How on earth is this happening to me assailed her as two of the attentive young waiters led them up the stairs onto the roof terrace.
The ambience was surprisingly intimate for what was quite a large space. As they were escorted to what was clearly the best table in the house, with a prime view of the matchless sunlit ocean, an equal fuss was made of both of them. Already in her mind Grace was calling it the Marco effect. Even if he hadn’t been as well-known as he was, she didn’t doubt he would draw attention—just like a sudden flash of dazzlingly bright light in a darkened room.
Having ordered their drinks, they were now on their own again—apart from the inquisitive glances of nearby diners, sneaking a look at her impossibly handsome companion every now and then that was …
Lowering the leather-bound menu he’d been given, Marco frowned. ‘The emphasis is on seafood here. I should have asked if you were okay with that … If not, I am sure the chef can prepare something you would like more.’
Having glanced at the extensive menu herself, Grace realised again how ravenous she was. ‘I love fish … in fact, I prefer it to meat. This restaurant was a good choice,’ she reassured him.
‘I bask in the light of your approval.’
‘I wasn’t being condescending. I’m just grateful that you brought me here. Look at the view—it’s absolutely fantastic!’
‘You don’t need to feel grateful or deserving, Grace. The fact is I wanted your company. I want to get to know you better. Tell me … is there a boyfriend at home?’
She thought he was teasing her, and half expected to see his sculpted lips shape a gently mocking smile, but when she glanced back at him Marco’s expression was quite deadly serious. ‘I’ve been too busy to have a boyfriend,’ she told him. Even though she tried not to let it, inevitably some defensiveness crept into her tone. Her fingers restlessly unfolded the starched linen napkin in front of her on the table, then folded it back again into its perfectly formed square.
‘So there is no man to take you out to dinner or to the movies?’
It wasn’t just this man’s looks that were compelling—his deep, rich voice had its fair share of magic in it too. So much so that Grace was all but mesmerised by the sound of it. ‘I have some good friends. If I want to go out to dinner or to a movie I go with them.’
She heard his quiet intake of breath and was transfixed by the indisputably intimate tenor of his beautiful dark eyes. ‘And what about those other needs that a woman might want a man for?’ he asked softly.
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