A Devilishly Dark Deal Read Free Page A

Joseph? I think I must be a little jet-lagged after flying in from Sydney late last night and I didn’t quite take it all in.’ He shrugged.
    ‘Of course.’ At this amenable explanation, the British director’s shoulders visibly relaxed. ‘I’m sure that all of us here will endeavour to keep the meeting as short as possible in light of the fact that you must be understandably tired after your travels.’
    With a little dip of his head Marco indicated his thanks, making sure to include every one of the well-dressed ensemble in his amicable gaze.
    ‘By the way,’ the other man added, his smile a little awkward, as if he were much happier dealing with matters appertaining to the business rather than making polite conversation with his boss, ‘how does it feel to be back home? It must be at least a couple of years since you were here for any length of time?’
    ‘That’s right … it is.’ His usual guard slammed down into place and Marco deliberately ignored the first part of the question. Home was a concept that even his immense wealth had never been able to make a reality for him . When a man had grown up an orphan, as he had, ‘home’ was just a tantalising dream that was always mockingly out of reach … a fantasy that just wasn’t on the agenda, no matter how much his heart might ache for it to be possible …
    A palatial house or mansion didn’t equal a home in the true sense of the word, although he had several of those round the globe. Lately he’d been working particularly hard, and his plan had been to stay in the Algarve for a few weeks at least, to kick back and take a long overdue rest, but the instant he had recalled his humble beginnings growing up Portugal, the idea suddenly lost most of its appeal. The prospect of spending time alone didn’t sit well with him either. Marco had plenty of acquaintances, but no real friends he could truly be himself around … Even as a child he had never made friends easily. One of the carers at the orphanage had once told him he was a ‘complicated’ little boy. With his child’s logic, he had judged that to mean that he was difficult to love …
    Once more he flipped his pen, hating the sudden prickling of anxiety at the back of his neck and inside his chest—a sign that he was feeling hemmed in, almost trapped. Because for him there was neither solace nor reassurance in revisiting scenes from his past.
    ‘Let’s continue, shall we? I’m sure we are all very busy people with much to accomplish before the day is out, and time is not standing still,’ he announced abruptly.
    Grimacing in embarrassment at his boss’s terse-voiced remarks, Joseph Simonson shuffled the sheaf of papers in front of him and cleared his throat before proceeding …
    Grace’s insides were churning. It was a minute or two away from midday, and three times now she had snatched her shaking hand away from the telephone. Right then the fact that she might be just a conversation away from getting the financial assistance the charity needed to rebuild the children’s home, set up a school and employ a teacher, didn’t seem to help overcome her nerves. Yesterday she’d been fired up … brave … as if neither man nor mountain could stop her from fulfilling her aim of getting what she wanted. Today, after a more or less sleepless night when memories of Marco Aguilar’s piercing dark eyes had frequently disturbed her, she didn’t feel capable of much … let alone feel brave.
    ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’
    Exasperated, she grabbed the receiver from its rest on the kitchen wall and punched out the number she had determinedly memorized, in case by some cruel twist of fate she lost the card.
    On arriving back at the villa yesterday afternoon, Grace had been seriously taken aback when she’d realised the number Marco had given her belonged to his personal mobile. It wasn’t the same as any of the numbers printed in gold on the front of his business card. Now, briefly shutting her