Yesterday's Sins

by Wine, Shirley

  "Coffee?"

  "Yes please." She managed a smile.

  He poured two coffees and handed her one. She sipped, grimacing at its bitterness. Her hand trembled as she added two spoons of sugar and cream She wanted to leave but was afraid to offend.

  "You had courage coming here."

  "Mr. Korda deserved the truth."

  His shrug was noncommittal. "The truth is for the court to decide."

  She wanted to leave and swallowed the last of the bitter brew. He had barely touched his. He caught her glance and picked up his mug and sipped.

  She couldn't leave before he finished. Then he wavered before her eyes. She tried to rise—her legs buckled beneath her and her last conscious thought—that coffee was drugged….

  Kate stared at Luke, horrified. No! Surely not!

  Luke made an exasperated sound. "For heaven's sake, woman, it's only hot chocolate."

  Kate watched through narrowed eyes, was he as innocent as he appeared? Trust was something she no longer possessed. His resemblance to Alex made her doubly cautious.

  "Stop being so bloody suspicious."

  "I've learned to be, the hard way."

  She took the mug, waved a hand through the steam and sniffed it before she sipped with extreme caution. It smelt okay and didn't taste unusually bitter.

  Luke uttered an oath, turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Was she paranoid? Perhaps, but she had good reason. She'd almost finished when he returned with an omelette. Protest trembled on her lips.

  "Don't say it. Eat every last scrap. Doctor's orders."

  That surprised her. "You're a doctor?"

  "I am." He indicated the food. "So eat."

  Instinctively, she knew this was an argument she couldn't win so she picked up the fork, too aware of his scrutiny. The omelette was very good and she was soon finished. As she put the plate aside, she caught his glance. Heat flooded her face.

  "How long since you've eaten?"

  She glanced at him and shrugged. "A while."

  "Have you sought medical help for your anorexia?"

  Nettled, she gave him a narrow eyed glare. "I'm not anorexic."

  "No?" His eyebrows almost reached his hairline. "If you were my patient you'd be in a clinic."

  "I'm not your patient, Luke. When I want medical advice, I'll see my own doctor."

  "Fair enough." He shrugged but watched her closely. "Who did you think I was?"

  She shrugged. There was no way she was prepared to touch that comment. When she remained silent he gave an exasperated huff. "You're not a very good liar."

  "Are you usually so insulting?" Kate glared at him, filled with impotent anger.

  "It's surely normal to be concerned when a strange woman collapses in a puddle of abject terror at the sight of me."

  "I wasn't frightened." The denial was instantaneous.

  "Pull the other leg, it has bells on it."

  Her defiance leached at the caustic rejoinder. Almost afraid, she looked him full in the face. The likeness was uncanny.

  "Who's the man who terrifies you Kate Audley?" His voice softened with regret and a peculiar gentleness. "It was a man wasn't it?"

  Kate nodded, unable to speak past the sudden stricture in her throat.

  "Someone who looks like me?"

  "Yes, damn you." She pulled free, standing up and putting the width of the room between them. She wrapped her arms around herself in a futile gesture of self-protection.

  "Why don't you forget him?" Luke persisted softly, not venturing any closer.

  "How?" she demanded, a bitter edge to her voice. She would defy anyone to forget Alexandros Korda, or the way he had wrecked her life.

  Chapter Two

  When two weeks passed with no sign that Alex was associated with Luke, Kate relaxed and stopped looking over her shoulder.

  She dismissed the appearance of Alex's look-a-like as an over-reaction. Had Alex been involved with Luke, he would have pounced long before now. The man she'd known wasn't renowned for his patience.

  She buried herself in work, the only sure palliative, notching up record sales figures. Despite initial interest, the Brewers went cold over the purchase of The Birches. And she had little luck interesting any other prospective buyers in the dilapidated mansion.

  "Kate, can you spare me a moment?" Dave poked his head around his office door as she returned from a late lunch.

  Slipping off her coat and re-positioning her personnel button, she half turned toward him. "Can you give me two minutes first?"

  He nodded. "When you're ready."

  As she hung up her coat in her office, Kate wondered what Dave wanted. Earlier he'd said he was meeting with an Australian magnate about Greylings Stables at Ardmore.

  Rural and business interests were outside her areas of expertise.

  She quickly scanned her messages, glanced in the mirror and flicked the comb through hair ruffled by a brisk southerly. Winter was promising to come early this year. She straightened her shoulders, picked up her diary and tapped on Dave's office door.

  Dave stood up as she entered. So did two dark suited men.

  "Gentlemen, this is our housing saleswoman, Kate Audley."

  Kate turned towards them, hand extended, polite professional smile in place. And shock hit with all the force of a fist to the solar plexus.

  "Mr. Korda and his PA, Mr. Nicolaides." Dave cheerfully introduced the men.

  Before she could drop her hand, Alex gripped it. Fire burned through her defences. Shocked, she stared at Alex hypnotized. What, in hell, is he doing here?

  Those flowers! Luke!

  Kate jerked her hand free, murmured a vague greeting and only years of professional discipline kept her on her feet.

  "Have a seat, gentlemen, Kate." Dave gave her a piercing glance, bushy brows drawn together into a heavy frown.

  Kate sank into a chair and managed a shaken breath. When did I stop breathing?

  She glanced at Alex through the screen of her lashes but didn't see a glimmer of recognition. Doesn't he recognize me?

  Deep inside, the vulnerable girl she'd once been, wept.

  "Mr. Korda has purchased Greylings. Now he's looking for a large house within the vicinity." Frowning Dave broke the tension laden silence. "What do we have on our books we can show him?"

  The sharp edge to Dave's voice was reminder enough that he was her boss, and he expected professionalism from his staff.

  Somehow, Kate marshalled her scattered wits and asked, "What exactly are you looking for?"

  It was a marvel her voice worked, let alone sounded normal.

  "An executive home." Alex met her gaze, the grey eyes that had haunted her dreams for years, strangely opaque. "For myself and my staff."

  "I see." Questions bombarded Kate from all sides. Was he intending to move here? She frowned at her open diary, nibbling on the end of her pen.

  I have to know.

  She gave him a deliberate look. "And Mrs. Korda, what does she require?"

  His large hand, capable of exquisite gentleness, clenched until the knuckles gleamed white. "There is no Mrs. Korda."

  So, he'd never married. That knowledge was bitter sweet.

  Why did I need to know? What possible difference does it make to me, if he's married or not?

  The icy tone, the clenched hand, minute as they were, betrayed him. Her momentary satisfaction faded. Alex had recognized her.

  She glanced at Dave, caught his swift, appraising look and startled dismay.

  How would he react if I told his wealthy, influential client he was more than welcome to go to hell? And I'd be more than willing to shove him on his way.

  The temptation was overwhelming.

  "My mistake." She pasted on a phony smile. "I assumed you had a wife when you wanted a big house?"

  "The first mistake in business, Ms. Audley, is to work from assumptions."

  Ouch. One for his team.

  "How big a house?"

>   She studied him through the screen of her lashes. There were deep crevasses either side of his mouth. His grey eyes were shadowed and once lustrous dark hair, was liberally sprinkled with silver. The years had not treated him kindly.

  "One with at least eight bedrooms," he said, voice clipped and hard. The hand on his thigh clenched tighter. "And at least three entertainment lounges."

  He caught her glance and relaxed. The visible effort of will sent shivers goose-stepping across her skin.

  "There're very few houses that size in this district." She nibbled on the end of her pen, debating if she could goad him further. "What's price range are we looking at? And will you need to raise finance?"

  For a moment his impassive expression slipped a notch. I'll bet he never expected that.

  "Price, Ms. Audley, is no object," he said, his tone filled with sardonic amusement.

  The damn man is laughing at me. She stole a glance at Gregori. He, too, bore the mark of unkind years. Face it, Kate. We're all older. And carry years of emotional baggage.

  "Without research, only two come even close to your requirements. The Birches. It's a nineteenth century stone manor house, six main bed rooms, detached out buildings, once occupied by servants, a ballroom, huge living, dining and reception rooms that would lend themselves to alterations to suit any lifestyle."

  "What's its condition?" The quicksilver response was all business.

  "It's neglected and needs extensive renovation, although basically sound. Its stone and slate tile roof is unique in this district. It's set in two hectares, that's approximately five acres, of mature trees."

  "And the other?"

  Kate glanced at Gregori, busy writing down every word, and her lip curled in a sneer. He's still Alex's faithful henchman.

  He never betrayed a sign of recognition, Kate wasn't misled. Neither of these men missed a thing.

  "A three year old brick and tile with aluminium joinery, six bedrooms, two entertainment lounges and is well finished. The grounds are nowhere near as extensive. The only other alternative is to build to your own requirements."

  Alex tapped long tanned fingers on the arm of his chair.

  Kate's already over-stretched nerves were close to breaking point. She needed to escape, now. Before she did something she would live to regret. Only concern over Dave's reaction kept her steadily rising temper within bounds.

  "Can we inspect those houses now?" Alex asked crisply.

  Kate glanced at her watch, glad she had an ironclad excuse. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Korda. I have another appointment in a few minutes."

  Dave's sharp breath was clearly audible, but Kate was beyond caring.

  "Can't someone else attend to your appointment?"

  It was an appointment she could cancel or change, but he didn't need to know that. She blistered him with a scorn-filled glance that froze any compromise. "I never renege on appointments."

  "Surely, Ms. Audley a multimillion dollar house sale is more important?"

  How little he'd changed. Still the same imperious Alexandros, immune from making mistakes that plagued other humans.

  "That may be how you do business Mr. Korda but it's not how I operate." Kate didn't attempt to mask her hostility. "Dave may be able to make other arrangements."

  She stood up, bringing the interview to a close, too aware of Dave watching her, baffled and angry. Alex's smile cynically amused.

  "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

  "When would you be free to show me those houses, Ms. Audley?" Alex's question caught her at the door.

  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 reverb
erated, along with the dull squish of food.