Forgotten Sins. Robyn Donald

put New Zealand on the map with his single-handed sailing voyages around the world, and he cared enough about kids to set up the Connor Trust and raise millions of dollars for it. Some of the money from the book’s going to the Trust, yet Aline would have stopped publication if she’d been able to.’ She cast a scathing glance at Aline. ‘People need to know what a wonderful man—a truly great man—he was. I’m not ashamed of loving him, and I’ll be proud until I die that he loved me.’

      Jake would have liked very much to wrap his hands around that slender throat and throttle the life out of her, but he needed to get Aline out of there before the confrontation—already drawing covert attention—went any further. White and frozen, her subtle cosmetics displayed for the mask they were, she hadn’t moved since Lauren had started her attack.

      It was the first time he’d seen her at a disadvantage, and he was startled by the fierce protectiveness that unexpectedly gripped him.

      Ignoring Lauren, he stepped between the two women and touched Aline’s arm. When she didn’t respond he said gently, ‘Aline, come with me.’

      After a taut moment she shivered.

      ‘Let’s go,’ he said, relieved when she let him steer her out of the nearest door and into the entrance hall, mercifully empty of onlookers.

      With a firm hand at her elbow, he led her across the gleaming wooden floor with its priceless Persian rug; he wondered if the door to Keir’s study would be locked, but it yielded to his urgent hand.

      Mentally thanking Keir for his trust in his guests, he pushed it open, noting with a half-smile that Keir wasn’t that trusting; everything but the desk and the bookshelves had been locked away in a bank of cupboards.

      Obediently, silently, Aline went ahead, finally stopping in the middle of the room to look around with dazed bewilderment. Succumbing to his concern, Jake folded her slim, cold hands in his, but although she didn’t resist it was like touching a statue.

      ‘She could be lying,’ he said harshly.

      ‘She’s not lying.’ Aline’s voice sounded distant, muted, empty of the subtle sexy texture that made it so erotic beneath the surface crispness.

      ‘How do you know?’

      She shuddered. ‘He used to say my eyes were like the very best turquoise. How would she know that unless he told her?’

      Pillow-talk, he thought savagely. ‘It could have slipped out in conversation.’

      She shook her head. ‘Keir must know; he was Michael’s best friend,’ she said. And then with a half-sob, ‘Yes, of course. That’s why…’

      ‘Tell me,’ he commanded when her voice trailed away into nothingness.

      She didn’t ask him what business it was of his. The shock of Lauren’s revelation had smashed the barriers he’d tried so hard to penetrate these past months. Ruthlessly practical, he decided it might be a good thing; if she’d been living in a fool’s paradise the truth could only set her free. It might even help the small personal crusade he’d embarked on—finding out exactly what was going on in the Connor Trust.

      But, God, he hated to see her in such pain.

      In that same empty monotone she said, ‘About a year before Michael died I noticed a distance between them, and after that we didn’t see much of Keir. I asked Michael why, and he said that it was the natural way of things—married men didn’t have so much in common with their single friends.’ She lifted her lashes and looked at him with blank eyes like enamelled jewels, their vivid colour framed by long black lashes. ‘You believe people when you love them because it hurts too much not to.’

      Looking into that lifeless, beautiful face, Jake thought violently that if he could kill a dead man he’d do it right then.

      A soft sound from behind alerted him to the opening of the door; instantly he swung around, thrusting Aline behind him as their host entered the room.

      Frowning, Keir demanded, ‘What’s going on here?’

      Jake stood to one side and let Aline tell Keir exactly what Lauren had said.

      He was good, Jake thought with respect; their host’s ice-grey eyes registered only a single flash of fury, but of course Aline noticed.

      She whispered, ‘Was Lauren the only one?’

      ‘Yes,’ Keir said brusquely.

      ‘So he did love her,’ she said, as though the words stabbed her to the heart. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

      ‘Would you have believed me?’ When she shook her head he added more gently, ‘It wasn’t my place to tell you.’

      Jake understood. He’d been in an impossible position. Was Keir’s knowledge the source of the tension he’d sensed between Aline and her boss?

      Politely, Aline said, ‘Of course it wasn’t. I’m sorry I asked. Keir, I think I’d better go now.’

      ‘I’ll take you,’ Jake told her.

      She swivelled as though she’d forgotten he was there. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said woodenly, ‘but my car’s here.’

      ‘You can’t drive.’ Jake’s voice was patient. ‘I’ll make sure your car gets home.’

      He could see her try to muster her defences. ‘I’ll be perfectly all—’

      ‘You’re not fit to drive,’ Jake said brutally. ‘Kill yourself if you want to, but what if you kill someone else?’

      Huge turquoise eyes held his until she made a blundering gesture of rejection, muttering, ‘All right, I’ll go with you.’ She turned back to Keir. ‘Please tell Hope I’m sorry?’

      ‘Of course. Will you be all right?’ He frowned, his eyes travelling from Aline’s shuttered face to Jake’s.

      With an effort Jake could only imagine, she managed a faint curve of her lips.

      ‘Of course I will. You don’t die from disillusion. And I’ve got this week off—I’ll be fine once I’ve had a chance to get used to the idea of—of…’ She choked and caught herself up.

      Harshly, Jake said, ‘I’ll look after her.’

      He and Keir exchanged a look, golden eyes clashing with ice-grey. Jake said softly, ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

      Keir didn’t like that, but after several taut seconds he nodded.

      Once safely in Jake’s car, Aline sat back into the seat and stared at the window, trying desperately to summon a blankness that would blot out her thoughts.

      It was useless. All her mind could register was the stark, inescapable fact that Michael had betrayed her.

      Eventually she blurted, ‘I’m surprised she waited so long to tell me.’ The words burst from some secret part of her, rooted in a miserable mixture of anguish and furious humiliation.

      ‘Why would she want to tell you?’ Jake asked, backing the car skilfully between two badly parked others.

      ‘For years she hasn’t said a word! Why now, I wonder?’ And to her astonishment Aline heard herself say, ‘I’m so sorry for her; to love someone and not be able to grieve openly for him must be the worst kind of hell. And then to lose her baby…’ Her voice trailed off as she remembered that Michael had refused her a child. Stumbling, she said, ‘Perhaps she wanted to forewarn me—’

      ‘The baby,’ Jake told her with ruthless frankness. ‘That’s what she saw when she came in the door—you laughing with Emma.’

      Aline looked down at her hands, realising they’d taken on a life of their own and were writhing together in her lap in the classic gesture of helpless indecision. Revulsion and sheer force of will subdued them into stillness.

      ‘I see.’