Yesterday's Sins Read Online Free Page B

nipples unfurled and her flesh craved to feel his, pressed hard against her.
Desire jolted through her and, with it, crippling shame.
"You've done such a good job of whitewashing, Catriona. Are your mourning clothes and black hair a sop to your guilt for abandoning your child? Or are they punishment for turning away your family. Or a means of atoning for being alive when your father and Chris are dead? Is that why you don't date, have no friends and live this barren existence?"
Each deliberate word drew blood.
He leaned even closer. She saw the darker striations in his grey eyes, unable to break eye contact.
Her lips stung and ached for the feel of his.
"No, that's not true." In desperate denial, she tried to push him away, heart hammering.
He wasn't right. He couldn't be?
"No? Then why are you hiding?" He sketched a hand at the sparsely furnished living room.
"I'm not." Even to her, the denial wasn't convincing.
"Aren't you? Why the false name, the vanishing act and the years of silence?"
His accusations punctured her cultivated veneer. She huddled deeper into the chair, but there was no escape.
"It's one thing to seek revenge on me." He shook his head, sorrow etched on his stern face. "I deserve your scorn, your hatred, everything you want to throw at me and more. But to punish a tiny child—"
Watching through agonized eyes, she saw him turn and stride to the door and open it. He paused, one hand on the door handle, sparing her a searing glance.
"In the past, Catriona, I respected your honesty. Now, it pains me greatly to realize I was mistaken. You are a liar."
She stared at him as he shook his head in sorrow.
"But far, far worse, is the fact that you're lying to yourself."
Long after he'd gone, Kate stared at the closed door. The echo of his words crucified her.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter Three
 
A n almost sleepless night left Kate heavy eyed.
Determined not to allow Alex to destroy her hard won poise, she dressed with more than normal care, softening a severe, tailored black skirt with a white silk blouse and a pink cashmere sweater.
The sweater had been an impulse buy and had sat unworn in her wardrobe for over a year. And that fact alone, gave her pause.
Recalling Paula's laughing words on the morning of her birthday, Kate surveyed her wardrobe with a critical eye. The sea of black and grey made her re-consider Alex's scathing words.
Was he right? Was she in mourning? Hiding from life?
That she was even re-assessing her lifestyle was tantamount to admitting his opinion mattered.  
Alex's opinion does matter, and to me, it's always mattered. It matters far more than I've ever wanted to admit.
Shock warred with confusion. So much for her vow to never to forgive him.
Last night it had been shock.
His gentleness, his unstinting comfort as she'd sobbed in his arms, her own insensible need, were enough to make her cringe.
Why had she clung to him?
What he thought of her breakdown didn't matter. She piled last night's dishes into the sink and, as she scrubbed them, wished she could scrub Alex out of her mind with the same ease.
He had no rights with her. No right to intrude, No right to criticize how she lived her life?
But to her dismay, Kate discovered his accusations refused to be dismissed.
Kate's hands stilled in the washing-up water and she stared through the kitchen window at the peaceful rural scene. Was she punishing herself for things she'd been powerless to prevent?
Alex kidnapping her; how could she, or anyone else, suspect refreshments offered to a guest were spiked.
For falling pregnant?
Kate closed her eyes in anguish.
The anger, the depression, and the sheer helplessness she'd experienced when even her own body had let her down and betrayed her.
For being alive when her twin and father were dead?
Her father and Chris had asked, and pleaded, to visit while she awaited Sarah's birth. Alex too, had asked her time and again, to allow them to visit. And still she'd refused.
Angered at their swift