The Darkest of Secrets (14 page)

Her fingers trembled and she returned her coffee cup to its saucer with a clatter. It had been so long since she’d been with a man. So long since she’d allowed herself the intimacy and vulnerability of being desired. Loved. It scared her still, but she also wanted it. More than she ever had before.

‘Why do you look afraid?’ Khalis asked quietly. ‘We’re safe here.’ Grace heard both tender amusement and gentle concern in his voice and he reached over to cover her hand with his own.

‘I’m not afraid.’ She lifted her head to meet his gaze directly, even boldly. She was not afraid, not of him anyway, and not even of Loukas. There was no way he could discover her here. No, she was afraid of herself, and this intense longing that had seized her body and mind and maybe even her heart. Tomorrow she would have to walk away from it.

‘Do you wish to return to Alhaja now?’

‘Not unless we have to.’ She smiled, her eyebrows arched even as her heart thudded. ‘Do we?’

‘No,’ Khalis said in a low thrum of a voice. ‘We could stay here.’

Grace didn’t know if he meant a little longer or all night. She glanced at a large pillow of crimson and cream striped silk, the torchlight shimmering off the rich material. It looked incredibly soft and inviting, and she could imagine sleeping on it. She could also imagine
not
sleeping on it.

‘More coffee?’

She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’ Impulsively she leaned forward. ‘Let’s dance.’

Khalis raised his eyebrows. ‘Dance?’

‘Yes, dance. On the beach.’ The idea had come to her suddenly; this was a date, the only date she’d ever have, and she wanted to enjoy it. She wanted to do all the things she was never able to do because of Loukas and his restrictions. She wanted to dance with Khalis.

A small smile quirked the corner of Khalis’s mouth. ‘But there’s no music.’

Grace held out her arms, gesturing to the rich blue satin of her dress. ‘I’m wearing an evening gown on a deserted island. Do we really need music?’ She smiled, longing to grab this fragile happiness with both hands. ‘Does it really matter?’ she echoed his own words back to him.

‘Not at all.’ In one swift movement Khalis rose from the table and led her out to the beach. The sand was cool and silky beneath her bare feet and the darkness swirled around them, the moon shimmering on the surface of the sea, giving it a fine pearl-like sheen. Khalis turned to her. ‘Since there’s no music, we can pick the kind we like.’

Grace could hardly see him out here on the dark beach, but she felt the heat and intensity of him, the desire pulsing between them, a sustaining and life-giving force. Impossible to resist. Necessary for life. ‘Which kind?’ she asked in a voice that sounded a little hoarse.

‘Something slow and lazy,’ Khalis said. He reached out and pulled her towards him so her hips collided gently with his and heat pooled in her pelvis. She let her hands slide up his shoulders, lace around his neck as he started to sway. ‘A saxophone, maybe. Do you like sax?’

‘Sax,’ Grace repeated dazedly. Khalis had slid his hands from her shoulders to her waist to her hips, and now his fingers were splayed along her bottom as he pulled her even closer, against the full thrust of his arousal. ‘I. Yes, I think so.’

‘Good,’ he murmured, and they swayed silently together. Grace could have sworn she heard music, the lonely wail of a saxophone as they danced on the empty beach, their bare feet leaving damp footprints in the sand.

Above them the sky was scattered with stars, a hundred thousand glittering pin-pricks in an inky, endless sky. Grace laid her head on Khalis’s shoulder, felt the steady thud of his heart against her own chest. After a moment she lifted her head and tilted back so she could look up into his eyes. His lips were a whisper away. The sleepy sensuality of the dance was replaced by something far more primal and urgent, something whose force was overwhelming and irresistible.

‘Grace,’ Khalis said and it almost sounded like a warning.

But Grace didn’t want warnings. She didn’t want memories or guilt or fear. She just wanted this. ‘Khalis,’ she whispered and his fingers brushed her cheek.

‘I love it when you say my name.’

‘I was amazingly resistant to saying it.’ She turned her head so her lips brushed his fingers. She felt carefree to the point of wantonness, and after four years of being completely buttoned-up it felt good. Khalis let out a little shudder as her tongue darted out and touched his fingers, tasted the salt of his skin. He took her chin in his hand and gazed down at her with a ferocity that would have frightened her if she hadn’t felt it herself.

Then he kissed her hard, so different from the gentle caresses of this afternoon, and yet so right. The very air seemed to ignite around them, the stars exploded in the sky as Grace kissed him back and Khalis pulled her even closer, his mouth moving from her lips to her jaw to her throat and she heard the primal sound of her own desperate moan of longing.

He pressed another kiss in the curve of her neck and she tilted her head back, allowing him access. The feel of his lips against her skin gave her a plunging sensation deep inside, turned her mind into a whirlpool of need.

‘This dress is going to get very sandy,’ Khalis murmured against her throat and Grace gave a shaky laugh.

‘I don’t care. Although I suppose you might.’ She had to find the words from somewhere deep inside her, for thought of any kind was proving virtually impossible. Khalis had undone the halter top of the dress and was slowly peeling it away from her, just as he’d promised.

‘I find,’ he murmured as he slid the gown down her body, ‘I don’t care about this dress at all.’

‘It is beautiful,’ Grace gasped as he finished removing it and tossed it onto the sand. ‘Was,’ she amended, and Khalis let out a hoarse laugh as his gaze roved over her.

‘Grace,
you
are beautiful. Utterly and shockingly beautiful.’

She should have felt embarrassed, standing in her knickers in the middle of a beach, but she didn’t. She wasn’t even wearing a bra because she hadn’t brought one that fitted the halter-style top of the dress. The cool breeze puckered her bare skin into gooseflesh.

‘Shockingly?’ she repeated. ‘That sounds rather alarming.’

‘It is alarming,’ Khalis told her. He stepped closer to her, ran his hands lightly over her shoulders before cupping her breasts. His palms were warm and dry and still Grace shivered under his touch. ‘It’s alarming to me, what I feel for you,’ he said in a low voice.

Grace’s heart lurched. Yes, it was alarming to her, too. Terrifying and wonderful at the same time. ‘Kiss me,’ she murmured, and as Khalis brushed his lips against her own she closed her eyes.

He deepened the kiss, but only for a moment, pulling away from her to brush her lids with his fingers. ‘Open your eyes.’

‘Wh-what?’ Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, the mobile curve of his mouth hardening just a little bit as he gazed back at her.

‘Don’t turn your mind off, Grace. I’m making love to you, body and mind and soul.’

‘You don’t ask for much, do you?’

‘Just everything.’ And then he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was as hard and unrelenting as she knew the core of him to be, reminding her that no matter how gentle this man was, how tender and even loving, he was still a dangerous proposition. ‘Kiss me back,’ he muttered against her mouth, and she did, returning the demand, answering it.

He pulled her closer, her breasts crushed against his chest as his hands slid down the bare expanse of her back and tugged off her knickers. Then, his gaze still locked on hers, he stepped back and reached for the buttons of his own shirt. Mesmerised, Grace watched as he began to undress, her own nakedness almost forgotten as he slid his shirt off and revealed the lean, muscled chest underneath. His skin was golden with a satiny sheen, a light sprinkling of hair veeing down to his waistband. Her breath hitched. Khalis undid his belt.

Seconds later, they were both naked. Grace tried not to shiver. Khalis’s heated gaze was enough to fire her body, yet she could not shake the feeling of vulnerability that stole over her and made her cold. She’d forgotten how
intimate
this all was. How revealing. She’d been on her own for so long, buttoned-up and barricaded, protected. Now there was nothing. Now she was bare.

At least physically. Emotionally, Grace knew, she was still as guarded as ever. And now more than ever, 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 and accepted. Forgiven.
Loved.

Yet she didn’t know how to begin. Her thoughts were a ferment of uncertainty, even as pleasure began to take over.

Khalis trailed kisses from her throat to her tummy and desire dazed her senses, scattering her thoughts. His mouth moved lower, his tongue flicking against her skin, and then, thankfully, she had no more thoughts at all.

Something was missing. Even as he heard Grace’s little gasps and mews, even as his own libido ran rampant, Khalis knew it wasn’t enough. He wanted more from Grace, more than this physical response, overwhelming as it was. He wanted to destroy the defences she’d put around herself. He wanted her completely open to him, body and mind, heart and soul.

You don’t ask for much, do you?

He’d never wanted so much from a woman before, but then he’d never felt so much for a woman before. And yet, even as her body lay naked to him, even as she parted her legs and arched up towards his caress, Khalis knew she was closing off her mind. Her heart.

‘Look at me, Grace.’

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dazed with passion. ‘What—’ He braced himself on his elbows, poised over her as her breath came in little pants.
‘Please—’

He knew what she wanted. God knew he wanted it, too. In one stroke he could be embedded deep inside her and satisfy them both. He stayed still. ‘Say my name.’

Confusion clouded her eyes. Her lips parted. ‘Why—?’

‘Say my name.‘

It wasn’t much, but it was, at least, a beginning. She would acknowledge him, own this connection between them. He wouldn’t let her memories or fears crowd him out. He wouldn’t let her try to banish him along with her ghosts. She didn’t speak and sweat beaded on his brow. He could not hold himself back much longer.
‘Please. ‘

Her expression softened and the sudden tears that shimmered in her eyes nearly broke him. ‘Khalis,’ she whispered, and with a primal groan of satisfaction he drove inside her, felt her welcoming warmth wrap around him. ‘Khalis,’ she said again, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body arching upwards, and triumph tore through him as they surged towards a climax. Grace cried aloud, her head thrown back as her legs wrapped around him. His name sounded like both a supplication and a blessing as her body convulsed around his.
‘Khalis.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

G
RACE
lay in the cradle of Khalis’s arms and could not keep the tears from silently slipping down her face. She closed her eyes, but still they came, one after the other, tears of poignant joy and bitter regret. She’d never felt so close to a man before. and yet so unbearably far away. She’d been so afraid to open her heart and body and soul to him, afraid of the strength of her own feelings. Right to the end she’d resisted, and then.

Then her heart had cracked right open and instead of feeling like the end it had been a beginning. Life instead of death. Hope instead of fear. How could she not have realised how different it would be with Khalis, how wonderful?

And yet how could it last?

She thought she was crying silently, so Khalis, his arms wrapped around her as he drew her back against his chest, wouldn’t hear, but he did. Or perhaps he just sensed it, as he had so many other things. Gently his hands came up towards her face and his thumbs wiped away her tears. Neither of them spoke. After a long moment Grace drew in a shuddering breath, her face still damp although at least the tears had stopped.

Khalis pressed a kiss against her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her. ‘Tell me,’ he said quietly.

Grace closed her eyes. Another tear leaked out. She wanted to tell him, tell him everything about her disastrous marriage, her own stupid, selfish folly, her painful divorce, the endless aftermath. She’d given him the barest of details, made herself look far more of a victim than she was. Now she imagined telling him all of it, having every sordid secret spill out of her, and while it would be a relief, like a blood-letting, it would also be messy and painful. And it would change the way Khalis looked at her. Why that should even matter since she didn’t intend to see him again after tonight, Grace couldn’t say. It just did.

She drew a deep breath and rolled over onto her back, Khalis’s arm heavy across her. ‘It’s just been a long time,’ she said, attempting a smile. ‘I’m kind of emotional.’

Khalis studied the tracks Grace knew her tears had made down her face. ‘You’re sad.’

‘And happy.’ She pressed a kiss against his palm. ‘Very happy.’

Khalis didn’t look convinced but, to Grace’s relief, he let it go. He pulled her more securely against him and she lay there for a long time, his arms wrapped around her as she stared into the darkness, savouring the steady warmth of him next to her, the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Eventually she slept.

When she woke the tent was washed in sunlight and Khalis was gone. She knew he couldn’t have gone far—they were on a deserted island, after all—and so for a few seconds she just lay there against the pillows, recalling the sweet memories, enjoying this brief happiness. Then she rose, wrapping a cashmere throw around her, for her gown—the only clothes she’d brought—was lying discarded and damp on the sand some metres away.

Khalis appeared, coming from the beach, looking energised and alert, a towel slung low round his hips. His hair was damp and spiky, and when he smiled Grace started to melt.

‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning. You had a dip in the sea?’