Read Online The Darkest of Secrets by Kate Hewitt - Free Book Online Page B

to think of her as a distraction was to think of her dismissively, as something disposable, and he knew he didn’t. Couldn’t. Already it had become something more, and he didn’t know whether to be alarmed, annoyed or amazed. Perhaps he was all three. But, for right now, all he wanted was a simple swim.
    Up in the foyer, she stopped, pulled her hand away from his with firm purpose. ‘I need to change.’
    ‘Why don’t I meet you at the pool?’
    ‘All right.’
    Fifteen minutes later a stiff and self-conscious Grace approached the pool area. He was sitting on the edge of the pool waiting for her, dangling his legs in the water, enjoying the last golden rays of sunshine. He took in her appearance in one swift and silent glance. Her swimming costume was appalling. Well, appalling might be too strong a word. It fitted, at least. But it was black and very modest, with a high neckline and a little skirt that covered her thighs. She looked like a grandmother. A very sexy grandmother, but still. Clearly she meant to hide her attractions. He smiled. Even a ridiculous swimming costume couldn’t make Grace Turner unattractive. Her long, slim legs remained on elegant display, and a swimming costume was, after all, a swimming costume. Her generous curves were also on enticing view.
    She stiffened under his rather thorough inspection and then tilted her chin in that proud, defensive way he was coming to know so well. He stretched out his hand, which she ignored, instead moving gingerly to the steps that led into the shallow end.
    ‘The water’s warm,’ he offered.
    ‘Lovely.’ She dipped a toe in, then stood on the first step, up to her ankles, looking as if she were being tortured.
    ‘Lovely, you said?’ he teased, his voice rich with amusement, and she looked startled before giving him a very small smile.
    ‘I’m sorry. I’m not used to this.’
    ‘And here you told me you could swim.’
    Impatiently, she shook her head, gesturing between them with one hand. ‘This.‘
    And he knew—of course he knew—that she felt it, too. This connection, this energy between them. And, while it alarmed him, he had a feeling it terrified her. He saw that, felt it and, without thinking too much about what he was doing—or why—he slipped waist-deep into the water and strode towards her. She watched him approach with wide, wary eyes. He stopped a few feet away and gave her a little splash. She blinked, bewildered.
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘Having fun?’ Her mouth tightened and she looked quickly away. Intrigued, he asked softly, ‘Is there something wrong with that?’
    ‘No,’ she said, but she didn’t sound convinced. He splashed her again, gently, and to his relief he got a little smile, a sudden flash of fire in her eyes.
    ‘You’re asking for it, aren’t you?’
    Desperately. He waited, watched as she trailed her fingers in the water. She had beautiful fingers, long and slim with elegant rounded nails. His gaze was still fixed on them when she suddenly lifted her hand and hit the water hard with the flat of her palm, sending a wave of water crashing over him, leaving him blinking and spluttering. And laughing, because it was just about the last thing he’d expected.
    He sluiced the water from his face and grinned at her. She smiled back, almost tremulously, as if her lips weren’t used to it. ‘Got you.’
    ‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice came out in a husky murmur. ‘You did.’ Even in that awful swimming costume, she was incredibly, infinitely desirable. And when she smiled he was lost. He felt his fears fall away when he looked at her, any alarm that this was all going too fast and too deep seemed ridiculous. He wanted this. He wanted her. He took a step towards her and she stilled, and then another step so he was close enough to feel her breath feather his face, see the pulse beating in her throat. Then he leaned down and kissed her.
    It was the gentlest kind of kiss, his mouth barely brushing over