The Darkest of Secrets (19 page)

She stirred, her hair brushing against his bare chest. He’d brought her to the luxury hotel he’d booked in town, the windows of the penthouse suite overlooking the River Cam. She’d come into the room warily, her eyes wide as she took in the huge four-poster bed piled high with pillows and a silken duvet.

He’d been about to reassure her that they could just talk, that all he wanted was to talk—well, sort of. After nearly three months apart, he wanted
her
desperately.

‘Grace—’ he began, and then she turned to him suddenly and wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her close, buried his face in her hair, inhaling its sweet fragrance.

‘I missed you,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I missed me with you.’ And he knew what she meant. He’d missed her, too, missed the sense of rightness he felt when he was with her. He kissed her then and, though he meant to keep it gentle, neither of them could control the tide of desire that swept over them as their lips met and met again. They’d missed each other too much to go slowly. In one fluid movement Khalis undid the zip of Grace’s dress and she wriggled out of it, laughing a little as it snagged round her ankles.

‘Another dress bites the dust,’ Khalis said with a grin as he tossed it aside. Grace kicked off her heels. He pulled her towards the bed, his breathing turned harsh and ragged as they both fell upon its softness and each other, hands roving over skin with an urgent need to remember, to feel, to know.

Grace arched upwards as Khalis slid his hand between her thighs, his own voice coming out in a moan of longing. ‘Oh, Grace. I missed this. I missed you.’

‘Yes,’ she panted, her head thrown back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she urged him closer. And then he was filling her, making her gasp and his heart fill with the wonder of it, with the knowledge that the connection they’d both experienced was finally, joyously restored.

Afterwards she lay in his arms, her heart thundering against his as he brushed her dry cheek. ‘No tears,’ he said softly, his hand cupping her face, and she smiled against his palm.

‘No tears,’ she answered, and then neither of them spoke for a long moment. The weight of the words she hadn’t said lay between them, but as Khalis held her he knew they bore it together. And then she stirred, settled herself against him and began.

‘I first met Loukas when I was just fourteen,’ she said softly. She ran her hand down his arms, her fingers curling around his bicep, holding onto him like an anchor. Khalis pulled her closer and waited. ‘My mother had died the year before and I suppose I was lonely. My father was wonderful, but he was also easily distracted, absorbed by his books. And Loukas was so kind then. He was full of important plans about how he’d make his fortune, but he still made time for me.’ She sighed and her hair whispered against his chest once more. ‘The next time I saw him was at my father’s funeral. I was twenty-six, and I’d just finished my doctorate. I was about to join an auction house in London, and before he died I felt like I had everything before me. But then.’ She paused, shaking her head. ‘I felt so alone. I realised I had no one left, and when Loukas invited me out, listened to me … well, it felt wonderful. I hadn’t had any really serious relationships; I’d been too involved in my studies. And at that moment.’ She paused. ‘Sometimes I wonder if we’d met at a different point, if I would have noticed him at all. Maybe that’s just. wishful thinking, I don’t know. I don’t think my head would have been quite so turned.’

‘You were vulnerable.’

She shook her head. ‘That’s just an excuse.’

‘We’re not talking about excuses,’ Khalis reminded her. ‘Just understanding.’

‘We were married within six weeks. It was far too fast, I see that now. I barely knew what I was doing. I was still grieving, really. I still thought of him as the university student with a kind word for me and a friendly smile, but he’d changed. He was wealthy now, terribly wealthy, and I think … I think he saw me as a possession. A prized one, but.’ She stopped, swallowing, before she continued in a voice heavy with remembrance. ‘He took me to his island for what I thought was a honeymoon. I thought we’d go back, live in London, have a normal life.’ She stopped again, and he felt her body tense. He ran his hand down her shoulder and arm, pulled her closer to him. ‘He left me there,’ Grace confessed in a whisper. ‘He informed the auction house that I wasn’t taking up the post, and told me he wanted to keep me safe. He made it sound like he was trying to take care of me, but I felt—’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I felt like Leda, trapped in that little room with no one to see her or even know she was there.’ She gave something that Khalis supposed was meant to be a laugh, but it wobbled too much. ‘It sounds so ridiculous because I wasn’t really a prisoner. I mean, I was a grown woman—I could have arranged transport or something. I wasn’t
trapped.
’

‘But?’ Khalis prompted when it seemed as if she wouldn’t go on.

‘But I was afraid. Loukas felt like the only person I had in the world and, even though he wasn’t there most of the time, I didn’t want to lose him. And sometimes I convinced myself that it was all reasonable, that living on an island paradise was no hardship.’

‘No wonder you hated Alhaja with all of its security and walls.’

‘I don’t like feeling trapped. Or managed. Loukas was always telling me what to do, even what to think.’ She sighed, shaking her head. ‘I think I was working up the courage to leave when I found out I was pregnant. I knew I couldn’t leave him then. He wouldn’t let me, and I still wanted our family to work.’ She rolled over to face him now, her eyes clouded with sadness and yet so heartbreakingly clear. She hid nothing from him now. ‘After Katerina was born, I thought it would be enough. It should have been enough. But she didn’t sleep or nurse well and I was tired. Loukas had hired a nanny to help me but she was awful, as bossy and controlling as he was. At times I felt like I was going out of my mind.’

Khalis said nothing, just kept stroking her back, her shoulder, her arm. Touches to show he was listening. He understood. ‘And then,’ she whispered and stopped. She rolled back onto her side, tucked her knees up into her chest. The silence ticked on. ‘Loukas hired him, you know,’ she whispered. ‘To tend the property. Sometimes I wonder … I think maybe … maybe he was testing me, and I failed.’

‘That’s not how a marriage is meant to work.’

‘No,’ Grace said after a moment, her voice no more than a scratch of sound. ‘None of it was meant to work that way.’ Her shoulders shook then and he knew she was crying, not just tears trickling down her face, but sobs that wrenched her whole body.

Khalis didn’t say anything. He just held her, rubbing her back, his cheek pressed against her hair. The sound of her sorrow made his own eyes sting. How could he have ever doubted this woman? Thought he couldn’t love her?

He loved her now more than ever.

Finally her sobs abated and she gave a loud sniff, a trembling laugh. ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t cried like that since. well, since forever.’

‘I thought as much.’

She rolled over to face him again. Her eyes were red and puffy from weeping, her face completely blotchy. Khalis smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he told her. ‘And I love you.’

Her mouth curved in a trembling smile. ‘I love you, too.’ She laid her palm against his cheek. ‘You know,’ she said softly, ‘for the first time I feel like the past isn’t hanging over me. Suffocating me. I almost feel … free.’ She stroked his cheek and another tear slid down her cheek. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

When Grace awoke the bed was empty and sunlight flooded the room. She lay there, the memories of last night washing over her in a healing tide. She never would have thought telling Khalis everything would feel so good, so restorative. Surely there were no secrets between them now.

What about your daughter?

Grace rolled over onto her side. Loukas would have found out about last night. Somehow, some way, he would know she’d been indiscreet. And even as her heart ached at this knowledge, she realised she no longer lived in the kind of terror he’d kept her in for four long years. With Khalis’s help, she could fight the custody arrangement. She didn’t know how long it would take or how they would do it, but for the first time in four years she had hope. It was as powerful and heady a feeling as the love she felt for Khalis. Smiling, she rose from the bed. She heard the sound of the shower from the bathroom and saw a tray with a carafe of coffee, a couple of cups and a newspaper. She poured herself a cup and reached for the paper.

Ammar Tannous survives helicopter crash.

It wasn’t even on the front page, just a corner of the second page, hardly noticeable, and yet the words seemed to jump out and grab her by the throat. Khalis’s brother was alive.

She’d barely processed this information when the bathroom door opened and Khalis emerged, dressed only in boxers, a towel draped over his shoulders.

‘Good morning.’

She looked up, the paper still in her hands. ‘Khalis. Khalis, I’ve just read.’

‘Something amazing, it would seem.’ He smiled as he reached for the carafe of coffee.

‘Look at this.’ She thrust the paper at him, pointing to the article about Ammar. And in the second it took Khalis to read the headline, his mouth compressing, she felt her hope and joy being doused by the icy chill of foreboding.

He glanced away from the paper and finished pouring his coffee. ‘What about it?’

‘What about it?
Khalis, that’s your brother. Isn’t it?’ For a second she thought she must have got it wrong. Surely he couldn’t be so cold about
this.

‘It appears to be.’ He sat across from her and sipped his coffee. Grace would have thought he was completely indifferent except for the tension radiating from his body. The bone china cup looked as if it might snap between his fingers. ‘I went to file a custody appeal this morning.’

Grace blinked, trying to keep up. ‘A custody—’

‘My legal team thinks the trial judge abused his wide discretion,’ Khalis explained. ‘And because there was so little finding to support the court order, it’s manifestly in error. I think you could have complete custody.’

Even as that thought caused new hope to leap within her, Grace shook her head. ‘You’re just changing the subject.’

‘I’m talking about your daughter.’

‘And I’m talking about your brother. You don’t even seem surprised that he’s alive.’ She saw a wariness enter his eyes, felt his hesitation. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’ she said slowly. ‘You already knew.’

Khalis glanced away. ‘He phoned me a few days ago.’

‘And what … what did he say?’

‘I didn’t really talk to him.’

‘Why not?’

He snapped his gaze back to her. ‘Because he was up to his neck in the same illegal activities as my father. I don’t trust him, don’t even know him any more. As far as I’m concerned, he’s my enemy.’

She stared at him, saw the taut, angry energy of his body, and knew there was more to this than Khalis was saying. More darkness and pain and fear. He’d helped her look into the abyss of her own past regrets and mistakes last night; maybe it was her turn to help him.

‘Couldn’t you at least talk to him?’ she asked.

‘I don’t see any point.’

‘Maybe he’s changed—’

Khalis gave a short, hard laugh. ‘He suggested the same thing. People don’t change, Grace. Not that much.’

She felt a sudden shaft of pain pierce her. ‘Don’t they?’

Khalis glanced at her, his lips pressed in a thin line. ‘You know I didn’t mean you.’

‘I don’t really see the difference.’

‘You don’t see the difference between you and my brother? Come on, Grace.’

‘What
is
the difference, Khalis? It sounds like we’re two people who made mistakes and regret them.’

‘You think Ammar regrets—’

‘You said he told you he’d changed.’

Khalis looked away. ‘This is ridiculous. You made one single mistake which you regret bitterly, and Ammar made dozens—’

Grace felt herself go cold. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘There’s a maximum on how many mistakes you can make? I’m all right because I just made the one?’

‘You’re twisting my words.’

‘I don’t understand why you can’t just talk to him at least.’

‘Because I don’t
want
to,’ Khalis snapped. Colour slashed his cheekbones. He looked angry, Grace thought, but he also looked afraid.

‘You don’t
want
to forgive him,’ she said slowly. ‘Do you?’ Khalis didn’t answer, but she saw the truth in his eyes. ‘Why not?’ she asked, her voice soft with sorrow. ‘Why do you want to hold onto all that anger and pain? I know how it can cripple you—’

‘You
don’t
know,’ Khalis said shortly. He rose from the table and moved to the window, his back to her. ‘I don’t want to talk about this any more.’

‘So I’m meant to tell you everything,’ she said, her voice rising. ‘I’m meant to completely open my heart and soul but you get to have certain parts of your life be off-limits. Well,
that
seems fair.’

The very air seemed to shiver with the sudden suppressed tension, tension Grace hadn’t even really known existed between them. She’d thought they’d both been laid bare and healed last night, but only she had. Khalis was still living in the torment of his past, holding onto his hard heart. How could she not have seen that? She’d seen that unyielding iron core the very first day they’d met. It didn’t just magically melt or disappear. She’d been dreaming of happy endings, but now she saw that as long as Khalis held onto this anger they were just fairy tales.

‘Khalis,’ she said quietly, ‘if you aren’t willing to forgive your brother, if you can’t believe that he might have changed, how can I believe you think I have?’

Khalis let out a ragged breath. ‘It’s completely different—’

‘No, it isn’t. It really isn’t.’ She shook her head sadly. She wanted to help him, but she didn’t know if she could. If he’d let her. ‘I almost wish it was. But don’t you see how this—this coldness in you will affect anything we have together?’