Yesterday's Sins (4 page)

Kate flicked open her diary, demeanour professional.

"I'm free from ten tomorrow." She raised an eyebrow in enquiry. "Does that suit?"

"Fine," Alex said as both men stood. "I'll collect you from here."

"I do not accept rides with clients." Kate glared at him through narrowed eyes. "If you prefer to travel in your own car, I'll take mine and you can follow."

Their gazes met and clashed. His eyes narrowed to glittering grey menace. Heart thumping erratically, but chin high and outwardly composed, she walked out.

In her office, she slumped against the closed door breathing in little choppy sobs. Shudders wracked her from head to toe, the need to escape paramount.

With feverish haste she gathered the papers for her meeting. Through the thin partition she could hear Alex's deep voice.

Please Dave. Don't discuss me with that man.

Quivering with distress, she escaped to her car. Reaching a lay-by, she parked and slumped over the steering wheel.

What can I do?
She sucked in a shuddering breath.

Only the need to keep her appointment compelled her to regain an outward semblance of calm.

Later, desperate for solitude she went home.

Privacy would be impossible at the office. Dave would demand an explanation for her hostile treatment of a very valuable client.

Her hands shook as she poured herself a whisky; plundering the small supply she kept for the odd time she had casual guests. Now, she was desperate enough to forget how a few drinks had changed her life.

Forever.

Sinking into a deep armchair, she bowed her forehead against a trembling hand.

Alexandros Korda.

Why, of all the places in the world, had he chosen the small village where she'd sought safety? Was buying property an excuse?

Was his presence coincidence or design?

Never coincidence. Everything Korda did was premeditated.

Kate stood up as she answered her own question. How had he found her? Her churning thoughts brought no answers.

Why was Alex here?

She sat back down and dipped a trembling finger into the whisky and wrote on the arm of the chair.

Sarah.

If Alex intended to move here he would bring Sarah. Kate leaped to her feet and paced.
Dear God what can I do?

She glanced around with hunted eyes. Run? Again?

A brisk double rap on the door stopped her in mid stride.

She knew that knock.

As she took another shaken breath the imperious knock sounded again. Reflected through the frosted glass panel, she saw the shadow of a man.

Slowly, on hesitant steps, she walked to the door and opened it. For long, unblinking moments they faced each other, the past swirling between them, ugly and virulent.

Kate shuddered and the world went black.

*****

Kate blinked open heavy eyelids.

She was lying on her bed, fully clothed covered with a mohair blanket. Had she fainted?

For a moment she was overcome with a panicked sense of déjà vu.

Alex. He'd been here.

She looked around her own familiar place, and her panic subsided.

Noises in her kitchen had her sliding off the bed. She pushed her feet into slippers and walked through to the living room.

"You're awake." Alex walked out of her kitchen carrying a tray.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, angry at being caught at a disadvantage.

"Sit down. How long have you been having prolonged fainting fits? How long since you ate a decent meal?"

The brusque command had her lifting her chin. As he walked toward her, she sank into her armchair. The whisky glass sitting on the side table mocked her.

"Why is that any of your business? How I live my life concerns no one, except me."

"Is that how you see it?" he asked smoothly as he put the tray on her knee. "Eat first. Then we'll talk."

Resentment and all the old futile anger welled up. "You're still the same arrogant son-of-a-bitch Alex, and never wrong?"

His harsh, indrawn breath was loud in the jagged silence. "I've made mistakes, as you're well aware, but I've done my level best to redress them."

Unable to hold his gaze, she looked down at the tray and the golden omelette.
 

In a burst of defiance, she threw it on the floor. The sound of breaking china, cutlery clattering on polished wood reverberated, along with the dull squish of food.

"Get out."

"That was stupid." He towered over her. "Instead of a meal you have a mess to clean up."

"It's my home, my mess. You have no right to be here."

Kate wanted nothing more than to maim him, as he'd maimed her. Violence rose in an upsurge of emotion, clawing its way to the surface, demanding expression with so much power, she was frightened by its force.

She went to stand up, but to her chagrin she swayed and would have fallen had he not caught her by the shoulders.

"Stay put, Catriona," he said quietly, as he eased her back into the chair.

She eyed him warily. "It's Kate. Catriona no longer exists."

"Doesn't she?" He sat in the chair opposite and leaned forward, his intensity forcing her to meet his eyes. "It's Catriona hiding behind ugly, black hair; it's Catriona who's condemned herself to this barren existence. Tell me, little Cat, what is it you can't forgive, me for arousing your sexuality, or yourself for responding?"

The soft words burned through her, exposing her secret shame, a shame time had done nothing to alleviate. Stunned and speechless, rigid with hurt, her fingers curled into claws and she wanted to do nothing more than tear the eyes from his head.

How could he?

"Give me one single reason why I should forgive you?" Hurt wiped every vestige of emotion from her voice. "For Anything?"

For long, endless moments they looked at each other, and then, without warning, the control of years snapped. She buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

Kate hated Alex.

And yet when he lifted her out of her chair and cradled her in his lap, holding her against him, it was the only place on earth she wanted to be, held safe against an agony too great to bear alone.

"Cry,
yataki
," he murmured huskily, his hand gentle as he smoothed it over her short, black hair. "Cry it all out."

Nothing else was possible.

A dam inside her burst releasing an unstoppable torrent of grief.

Kate clung to him until the last wrenching sob faded, and then he handed her a white handkerchief.

"Thank you," she muttered on a hiccup, drying her cheeks and blowing her nose.

He set her back in the chair, and silently gathered broken china, cutlery before cleaning up the spilt food, leaving her without a backward glance.

Exhausted, she dropped into a troubled sleep, haunted by nightmarish memories. When a hand touched her shoulder, she shrank away, screaming.
 

A sharp slap on her cheek stifled the sound in her throat.

Sitting bolt upright, she lifted a hand to her cheek, staring at Alex in utter shock. "You hit me."

"You were hysterical. I've brought you food. Don't waste it. You need to eat, you're a total wreck."

"And who's to blame for that?" she muttered not looking at him.

The savoury aroma made her stomach growl, reminding her of how long it was since she'd eaten. She picked up a fork and speared a small piece of meat. It melted in her mouth. Had Alex cooked this himself? She glanced at him, stretched out in the opposite armchair watching her.

"You always did like
moussaka
."

"Where did you get this?"

"Not from your pantry, the pickings there would starve a mouse. Why are you starving yourself?"

The quiet question rattled her. No way would she confess she associated food with him. That was all she needed to only eat the bare minimum to survive.

"My diet's no concern of yours." She glanced at him. "Nor is my life."

She ate three quarters of the meal before laying down her fork.

Alex took the tray from her lap and placed it on the floor. He sat back down, holding his hands, fingertip to fingertip forming a steeple.

The silence twanged at taut nerves. "Why are you here?"

"You know why I'm here." He gave a harsh bark of un-amused laughter. "The same reason our paths first crossed."

How well she remembered. "I gave you what you demanded eight years ago. I owe you nothing."

He nodded his face as grim as hewn granite. "Retribution works two ways, Catriona. Why are you alone?"

"I prefer it."

"Why?"

Eyes narrowed, she stared at him. Why did he assume the right to question how she lived her life? "You of all people should know the answer. I'm my own person. Never again will I give a man any power over my life, ever."

Alex flinched, eyes narrowed to glittering slits.

"So that's why you have the ugly black hair." He slashed a hand through the air. "What do you imagine your father or twin would say if they could see you? You're unattractive, scrawny, and denying your femininity. Denying the name your parents gave you.
Theos.
It's an abomination."

"Leave my father and Chris out of this. Don't sully their memory with your evil tongue."

It didn't improve her temper any, knowing he was right. Her father and twin would be horrified.

Why had he brought them into this?

Alex rose from the chair in one lithe movement and leaned across the space, a hand either side imprisoning her. Kate felt his heat; his remembered scent teased her senses, spicy and male.

"I had nothing to do with the death of your father and twin."

"Had they not been coming to see me after you kidnapped me, they would never have been on the Pacific Highway in the first place."

Kate pushed at his chest but he never budged.

"And that's a cop out, Catriona, a sop to appease your guilty conscience."

"My conscience was always clear. I never killed your nephew. Do you expect me to forget that?"

Alex straightened, walking across to the window and stared out into the twilight of the summer evening. His broad shoulders had a decided droop as he pushed a hand through his silver streaked hair.

"No. I don't expect you to forget." He turned towards her, his expression so grim, she shivered. "Nor can you expect me to forget, when I see your face every day when I look at our daughter?"