Kate Hewitt - The Darkest of Secrets

For the first time, as Khalis led her back to the tent and drew her down to the pillows’ opulent softness, she wanted to tell the last of her secrets. She wanted to bare her soul. She wanted, Grace knew, to be understood, accepted. Forgiven.

Yet as Khalis bent to trail kisses from her throat to her tummy, and desire dazed her senses, Grace knew that was impossible. So she would just take this one night, this physical understanding and acceptance and pleasure, and it would have to be enough.

Khalis’s mouth moved lower, his tongue flicking against her skin, and hazily she thought that it could be more than enough. Then she stopped thinking completely.

KATE HEWITTdiscovered her first Mills & Boon ®romance on a trip to England when she was thirteen, and she’s continued to read them ever since. She wrote her first story at the age of five, simply because her older brother had written one and she thought she could do it too. That story was one sentence long—fortunately they’ve become a bit more detailed as she’s grown older. She has written plays, short stories and magazine serials for many years, but writing romance remains her first love. Besides writing, she enjoys reading, travelling and learning to knit.

After marrying the man of her dreams—her older brother’s childhood friend—she lived in England for six years, and now resides in Connecticut with her husband, her three young children, and the possibility of one day getting a dog.

Kate loves to hear from readers—you can contact her through her website: www.kate-hewitt.com

Recent titles by the same author:

KHOLODOV’S LAST MISTRESS

MR AND MISCHIEF

(The Powerful and the Pure) BOUND TO THE GREEK

Did you know these are also available as eBooks?

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To Jennie, Natasha, and Maisey,

who encouraged me to write this book

and buy a fantastic dress in the bargain!

Thanks for all your encouragement and support.

Love, Kate.

‘OPEN it up.’

It had taken the better part of two days to reach this moment. Khalis Tannous stood back as the two highly skilled engineers he’d employed to open his father’s steel vault finally eased the door off its hinges. They had used all their knowledge and skill trying to unlock the thing, but his father was too paranoid and the security too advanced. In the end they’d had to use the newest laser technology to cut straight through the steel.

Khalis had no idea what lay inside this vault; he hadn’t even known the vault had existed, on the lowest floor of the compound on his father’s private island. He’d already been through the rest of the facility and found enough evidence to see his father put in prison for life, if he were still alive.

‘It’s dark,’ one of the engineers said. They’d propped the sawn-off door against a wall and the opening to the vault was black and formless.

Khalis gave a grim smile. ‘Somehow I doubt there are windows in there.’ What was in there he couldn’t even guess. Treasure or trouble? His father had had a penchant for both. ‘Give me a torch,’ he said, and one was passed into his hand.

He flicked it on, took a step towards the darkness. He could feel his hand slick on the torch, his heart beating far too hard. He was scared, which annoyed him, but then he knew enough about his father to brace himself for yet another tragic testament to the man’s power and cruelty.

Another step, and the darkness enveloped him like velvet. He felt a thick carpet under his feet, breathed in the surprising scents of wood and furniture polish, and felt a flicker of relief—and curiosity. He lifted the torch and shone it around the vault. It was a surprisingly large space and fashioned like a gentleman’s study, with elegant sofas and chairs, even a drinks table.

Yet somehow Khalis didn’t think his father came down to a sealed underground vault just to relax with a tumbler of his best single malt. He saw a switch on the wall and flicked it on, bathing the room in electric light. His torch lay forgotten in his hand as he slowly turned in a circle, gazing first at the furniture and then at the walls.

And what they held … frame after frame, canvas after canvas. Some he recognised, others he didn’t but he could guess. Khalis gazed at them all, felt a heaviness settle on him like a shroud. Yet another complication. Another testament to his father’s many illegal activities.

‘Mr Tannous?’ one of the engineers asked uneasily from the outside hallway. Khalis knew his silence had gone on too long.

‘It’s fine,’ he called back, even though it wasn’t fine at all. It was amazing. and terrible. He stepped further into the room and saw another wood-panelled door in the back. With a flicker of foreboding, he went to it. It opened easily and he entered another smaller room. Only two paintings were in this tiny chamber, two paintings that made Khalis squint and step closer. If they were what he thought they were… .

‘Khalis?’ his assistant, Eric, called, and Khalis came out of the little room and closed the door. He switched off the light and stepped out of the vault. The two engineers and Eric all waited, their expressions both curious and concerned.

‘Leave it,’ he told the engineers, who had propped the enormous steel door against the wall. He felt the beginnings of a headache and gave a brisk nod. ‘I’ll deal with all this later.’

No one asked any questions, which was good since he had no intention of spreading the news of what was in that vault. He didn’t yet trust the skeleton staff left on the compound since his father’s death, all of them now in his employ. Anyone who had worked for his father had to be either desperate or completely without scruples. Neither option inspired trust. He nodded towards the engineers. ‘You can go now. The helicopter will take you to Taormina.’

They nodded, and after Khalis disarmed the security system everyone headed into the lift that led to the floors above ground. Khalis felt tension snap through his body, but then he’d been tense for a week, ever since he’d left San Francisco for this godforsaken island, when he’d learned his father and brother had both died in a helicopter crash.