Her Last Night of Innocence by India Grey Read Free Book Online Page A

kiss, and with a sort of wild, excited anticipation, unable to take in the fact that the moment she’d waited for all these years was finally here.
    He was here.
    Her gaze travelled wonderingly over him, as if trying to make her dazzled mind believe what she was seeing. She had only ever seen him in racing overalls or jeans and a T-shirt before, but the black, perfectly tailored dinner jacket added a whole new dimension of sexiness to his racing driver’s physique, making his shoulders look wider and stronger, his hips narrower. Or maybe they were narrower, she thought with a wrench of desire and compassion. He had lost weight since the accident. The realisation made her want to wrap her arms around him and…
    Slowly he turned back to face her. There was a curious stillness about him. In the golden light of the chandeliers his face looked unusually pale.
    ‘ Mi dispiace . I shouldn’t have done that.’
    His voice was toneless. Kate felt a pinprick of icy fear at the base of her spine. She shook her head, twisting her hands together to stop herself from reaching out to him.
    ‘It’s OK.’
    He smiled—a chilling echo of the lazy, sexy, delicious smile she remembered so well.
    ‘Not really. I’m afraid I mistook you for someone else. I apologise…’
    The fear blossomed and spread through her, as if it was being injected into her veins. She felt her own smile freeze on her face—a rictus grin of horror. Her whole body suddenly seemed to be made of stone, and it was all she could do to turn her face away so he wouldn’t see the desolation and utter humiliation there.
    ‘Kate. It’s Kate.’
    Her voice was a cracked whisper. She had to leave. Now. Before everything she had ever imagined in her worst-case scenario paled into insignificance.
    He nodded curtly, taking a step backwards in the direction of the doors, giving her the benefit of his heartbreaking, ironic half-smile. ‘Kate. Forgive me for my…impulsiveness. It was a pleasure to meet you.’
    It felt as if she’d been punched hard in the stomach. She wanted to double up and gasp for air. It had been a mistake. She’d thought he’d recognised her. Remembered her. But it had been…a mistake .
    He turned, his shoulders very rigid as he walked away. In a second he would open the door and go back into the crowded room and she would be alone. The moment would have passed.
    ‘We—we’ve…met before, actually. I’m from Clearspring Water. I interviewed you…once.’
    Oh, God. She sounded desperate. Unbalanced. Like some disturbed, obsessed fan. She wouldn’t blame him if he alerted Security now. So to save herself the humiliation of being escorted off the premises, she gathered up her skirt and backed off a couple of steps.
    He stopped.
    For a moment he was absolutely still, as if turned to stone. Kate had to remind herself to keep breathing. Slowly, stiffly, he turned back to face her.
    ‘Kate Edwards.’ His voice was soft, his tone completely neutral, but his face looked as if it had been carved from ice. ‘You interviewed me the night before the Monaco Grand Prix four years ago.’
    ‘Yes.’
    So he knew. He knew who she was and yet he stood there, looking at her across the cavernous space with eyes that glittered with some emotion she couldn’t read, but which certainly wasn’t love. Or happiness, or excitement, or relief—or any of the other things she had felt when she saw him again. Her heart was beating very hard, very fast, shaking her whole body and pounding in her head as she began to back towards the door.
    ‘I’m glad you’re well again. I’m glad you’re back—i-if that’s what you want…’ Her skirt twisted around her legs, slowing her down. She managed a smile, though it felt as if her face might crack. ‘It was nice to see you again.’
    She was almost at the door. She could feel the cold night air at her back, and she turned round and covered the remaining few feet as quickly as she could in her agonising high heels.