Free The Darkest of Secrets by Kate Hewitt

hers. She didn’t move away, but she trembled. Her lips parted, but it didn’t feel like surrender. It felt like surprise. He reached with one hand to cradle her face, his palm cupping the curve of her cheek, revelling in the satiny softness of her skin. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it felt endless and yet no time at all. And then it was over.
    With a ragged gasp she tore away, stared at him with eyes wide with shock and even anger.
    ‘Grace—’
    He didn’t get the chance to say any more. As if she had the devil himself on her heels, she scrambled out of the pool, slipping on the wet tiles and landing hard on one knee before lurching upright and running back into the villa.

CHAPTER FIVE
    S TUPID. Stupid, stupid, stupid idiot—
    The litany of self-recrimination echoed remorselessly through her as Grace ran through the villa, pounded up the stairs and then into her room, slamming and locking the door behind her as if Khalis were actually chasing her.
    She let out a shuddering breath and then turned from the door, tearing the swimming costume from her body before she went to the en suite bathroom and started the shower.
    What had possessed her to go swimming? To splash him? Flirt? When he’d moved closer to her in the water she’d known—of course she’d known—what he intended to do. In that moment she’d wanted him to kiss her. And the feel of his lips on hers, his hand on her cheek, had been so unbearably, achingly wonderful—until realisation slammed into her and Katerina’s face swam in her vision, reminding her just how much she had to lose.
    And not just Katerina, Grace thought with a surge of self-recrimination. What about herself? Her freedom? Her soul ? Marriage to Loukas had nearly destroyed her. He’d levelled her identity, his words and actions a veritable emotional earthquake, and for years afterwards she’d felt blank, a cipher of a person. Working at Axis had helped restore some of her sense of self, yet she still felt as if she drifted through parts of life, had empty spaces and yawning silences where other people had companionship and joy. And perhaps she always would feel that way, as long as she didn’t have her daughter. But she’d at least keep herself, Grace thought fiercely. She’d keep her identity, her independence, her strength. She wouldn’t give those away to the first man who kissed her, even if his gentleness nearly undid her.
    Grace stepped into the shower and let the hot water rush over her, wash away the memory of Khalis’s gentle touch. She felt that endless ache of loneliness deep inside, a well of emptiness she’d convinced herself she’d got used to. Preferred, even. Yet it had only taken one man—one touch—for her to realise just how lonely she really was. She might be strong and safe and independent, but a single kiss had made her achingly aware of the depths of her own unhappiness.
    Swallowing hard, she turned off the taps and stepped out of the shower. Work. Work would help. It always did. Quickly she dressed, pulled her damp hair into another serviceable ponytail and then headed downstairs.
    Eric had given her a temporary password for the lift’s security system and Grace used it, glancing around quickly in search of Khalis. He was nowhere to be found.
    Squaring her shoulders, she entered the laboratory that Balkri Tannous had had built to verify the authenticity of the artworks, stolen or otherwise, he acquired on the black market. Grace had been reluctantly impressed by his thoroughness; the laboratory held all the necessary equipment for infrared photography, pigment analysis, dendrochronology and many of the other tests necessary to authenticate a work of art.
    She opened her laptop, stared blankly at the catalogue she’d made of the vault’s inventory; she’d already checked most of it against the Art Loss Register. It would take another hour or two to finish, yet now she couldn’t summon the energy to do it. Instead she slipped off