The Darkest of Secrets Read Online Free Page B

whisper of his clothes as he moved. Everything about him was elegant, graceful and sinuous. Sexy.
    No. She could not—would not—think that way. She hadn’t looked at a man in a sexual or romantic way in four years. She’d trained herself not to, suppressed those longings because she’d had to. One misstep would cost her if not her life, then her very soul. It was insane to feel anything now—and especially for a man like Khalis Tannous, a man who was now the CEO of a terrible and corrupt empire, a man she could never trust.
    Instinctively she walked a little faster, as if she could distance herself from him, but he kept pace with ease.
    ‘Turn right,’ he murmured, and she heard humour in his voice. ‘You are amazingly adept in those very high heels, Ms Turner. But it’s not a race.’
    Grace didn’t answer, but she forced herself to slow down. A little. She turned and walked down another long corridor, the shutters open to a different side of the villa’s interior courtyard.
    ‘And now left,’ he said, his voice a soft caress, raising the tiny hairs on the back of Grace’s neck. He’d come close again, too close. She turned left and came to a forbidding-looking lift with steel doors and a complex security pad.
    Khalis activated the security with a fingerprint and a numbered code while Grace averted her eyes. ‘I’ll have to give you access,’ he said, ‘as all the art will need to stay on the basement level.’
    ‘To be honest, Mr Tannous—’
    ‘Khalis.’
    ‘I’m not sure how much can be accomplished here,’ Grace continued, undeterred. ‘Most appraisals need to be done in a laboratory, with the proper equipment—’
    Khalis flashed her a quick and rather grim smile. ‘It appears my father had the same concerns you do, Ms Turner. I think you will find all the equipment and tools you need.’
    The lift doors opened and Khalis ushered her inside before stepping into the lift himself. The doors swooshed closed, and Grace fought a sudden sense of claustrophobia. The lift was spacious enough, and there were only two of them in there, but she still felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She was conscious of Khalis next to her, seeming so loose-limbed and relaxed, and the lift plunging downwards, deep below the earth, to the evil heart of this awful compound. She felt both trapped and tempted—two things she hated feeling.
    ‘Just a few more seconds,’ Khalis said softly, and she knew he was aware of how she felt. She was used to hiding her emotions, and being good at it, and it amazed and alarmed her that this stranger seemed to read her so quickly and easily. No one else ever had.
    The doors opened and he swept out one arm, indicating she could go first. Cautiously Grace stepped out into a nondescript hallway, the concrete floor and walls the same as those in any basement. To the right she saw a thick steel door, sawn off its hinges and now propped to the side. Balkri Tannous’s vault. Her heart began to beat with heavy thuds of anticipation and a little fear.
    ‘Here we are.’ Khalis moved past her to switch on the light. Grace saw the interior of the vault was fashioned like a living room or study and, with her heart still beating hard, she stepped into that secret room.
    It was almost too much to take in at once. Paintings jostled for space on every wall, frames nearly touching each other. She recognised at least a dozen stolen paintings right off the bat—Klimt, Monet, Picasso. Millions and millions of dollars’ worth of stolen art.
    Her breath came out in a shudder and Khalis laughed softly, the sound somehow bleak. ‘I’m no expert, but even I could tell this was something else.’
    She stopped in front of a Picasso that hadn’t been seen in a museum in over twenty years. She wasn’t that experienced with contemporary art, but she doubted it was a forgery. ‘Why,’ she asked, studying the painting’s clean geometric shape and different shades of blue, ‘did you