Free The Darkest of Secrets by Kate Hewitt Page B

after all.’ He’d moved to block the doorway, even though Grace hadn’t yet attempted to leave. His face looked harsh now, all hard angles and narrowed eyes, even though his body remained relaxed. A man of contradictions—or was it simply deception? Which was the real man, Grace wondered—the smiling man who’d rubbed her feet so gently, or the angry son who refused to grieve for the family he’d just lost? Or was he both, showing one face to the world and hiding another, just as she was?
    It didn’t matter. She could not have anything more to do with Khalis Tannous except the barest of professional acquaintances. ‘It’s complicated, and I don’t feel like explaining it to you,’ she said shortly. ‘But if you’ve done any digging on the internet, you’ll be aware of the details.’
    ‘Is that an invitation?’
    She shrugged. ‘Just a fact.’
    ‘I’m not some internet stalker,’ Khalis told her flatly. ‘I’d prefer to hear the truth from you, rather than some gossip website.’ She said nothing and he sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Grace nodded towards the exit he was still blocking.
    ‘I should get back to work.’
    ‘It’s after seven.’
    ‘Still. If I start running the preliminary tests now, you should have enough information to contact a legal authority in a day or two.’
    ‘Is that what you want?’ He gazed at her almost fiercely, and she felt a spasm of longing to walk into his arms, to tell him everything. To feel safe and desired all at once.
    Ridiculous. Dangerous. To do such a thing would be to open herself up to all kinds of shame and pain, and it would certainly put an end to feeling safe or desired.
    ‘Of course it is,’ she said and made to walk past him. He didn’t move, so she had to squeeze past in the narrow doorway, her breasts brushing his chest, every point of contact seeming to sizzle and snap her nerve endings to life. She looked up at him, which was a mistake. His eyes blazed need and for an endless charged moment she thought he would kiss her again. He’d grab her and take her right there, with Leda watching with her half-smile. She wouldn’t resist, not in that moment. She wouldn’t be able to. But instead he stepped back and as she moved past he let out a shuddering breath. She kept walking.
    Half an hour later he sent a dinner tray down to the lab. He’d included a snowy-white linen napkin, sterling silver cutlery, and even a carafe of wine and a crystal wine glass. His thoughtfulness made her ache. Did he realise how he was taking apart her defences with these little gestures? Could he possibly know how much they hurt, because they made her afraid and needy all at once?
    She picked at the meal, alone in the sterile, windowless lab, feeling lonelier than ever and hating that she did. Then she determinedly pushed the tray away and turned back to her work.
    She didn’t see him all the next day, although she felt his presence. At breakfast he’d left a newspaper by her plate, already turned to the Arts section. He’d even written a funny little comment next to one of the editorials, making her smile. She pushed the paper away and drank her coffee and ate her toast alone before heading back downstairs.
    Work kept her from thinking too much about him, although he remained on the fringes of her mind, haunting her thoughts like a gentle ghost. She’d had Eric help her move the panels into the lab, and she started running a basic dendrochronology test on the wood. At noon the young woman—her name, Grace had learned, was Shayma—brought her sandwiches and coffee. The tray also held a narrow vase with a single calla lily. After Shayma had left Grace reached for the lily and brushed the fragrant petals against her lips. She closed her eyes, remembering how Loukas had sent her roses. She’d been so touched at the time, grieving her father’s death, needing someone’s attention and love. Only later did she wonder if the flowers had been a genuine