Page 82 of Masquerade

Kate had passed various security checks, but Futureproof had been practising industrial espionage for years, if not decades. She could have been recruited on an earlier job and not activated until the returns justified the risk. Greentree Passage could deliver multi-millions in profits.

“It doesn’t make me guilty either. I will not go back into the dark hole Andrew dug for me.” She straightened her shoulders, magnificent in her insistence on innocence. “I’m not pleading for reasonable doubt. This is about whether or not you believe in my integrity.”

“Integrity! Hell. You were masquerading as a completely different person.” He jackknifed out of his chair as if rocket propelled. “I saw you dressed like Hailey Baldwin on a red carpet going into the Futureproof Mining building twenty-four hours after you returned from completing a research job for a secret client.” The sensation he’d been gut punched nearly brought him to his knees. Was he so befuddled by great sex he hadn’t asked the right questions? “I tried to convince myself you wouldn’t betray me.”

It wasn’t as if she’d made him any promises.

Against the rules, he’d foolishly made some in his heart.

“Not hard enough,” she snapped.

All the little things that hadn’t added up at the time hammered at his brain. She’d only told him what she couldn’t avoid telling him. He’d called her on being the model for the billboard. She’d refused to let him stop at her cottage. He still had no idea where her top-secret hideaway was. She’d timed her arrivals at his apartment to make sure he was already there. Was that even real? He’d been so unsuspecting, handing over his key without a moment’s thought.

“Who the hell is Kate Turner? The woman who’s the spitting image of her identical twin, Ms. Researcher or this new one?” Almost from the beginning, he’d left documents around his apartment. Easy to read or photograph when he’d been in the shower or taking a call.

“I’ve got more than one new one for you. For my parents, I’m their conservative, fashionable daughter, who’s kept the hair colour she was born with.” She looked as fragile as an eggshell. “Anna calls the blonde Ms. Sexy Higgins.”

He reached the window and spun around. “She probably thinks it’s funny.”

“Anna doesn’t rush to judgement, no matter how black the evidence is against me.” Her voice wobbled.

“Today’s meeting was to review the final legislative draft. I sprinted the last fifty metres to the meeting and made sure there are no loopholes. I’ll see you destroyed if you’re helping Futureproof Mining.”Feck hiding in a hole and letting her walk scot-free like Selina. “I’ll charge you with breach of contract and make sure you never work as a researcher for any reputable company again.”

Damn you! Damn me for needing to believe in you.

* * *

Kate’s body had bracedfor trouble in a way it hadn’t since an Andrew temper tantrum. The ugly thought swirled nausea in her belly. There was no comparison between the men, but a shiver trembled down her spine. Liam’s brooding gaze stopped her more effectively than his threat. His brows were drawn together, his jaw jutted at a pugnacious angle and his expression was an unreadable mix of anger and pain.

She’d been floating on her way here, giggles bubbling through her bloodstream like champagne. She loved Liam, body, heart and every naughty thought. Telling him about her writing was her last secret; her last hiding place. She hadn’t expected him to declare his love for her, but hope cost nothing.

“I haven’t betrayed you.”But I haven’t been completely straight with you either. She left those words unsaid. She’d invested all her energy into winning his trust as a colleague, hoping professional trust would bleed into their personal relationship. Failure tasted bitter. She’d hidden behind the scars left by Andrew until she and Liam were arguing about who she’d seen during the day. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” she said, dry mouthed.

“You mean you can’t believe you got caught. How many more disguises have you got in your wardrobe?” he sneered.

“Just the three—the billboard, the researcher and”—she could have said the romance writer—“today’s.” She’d vowed never again to report every detail of her day to a lover. Kate forced herself to stand tall, her breath catching in her throat, afraid she’d shatter if he kept looking at her as if she was a stranger or a monster. “How is it a disguise when you recognise me every time?”

“You probably laughed your head off about Selina. Confirmation about just how gullible I am.”

Realisation hit her. Her knees gave way, and she sank onto a chair. The young, humiliated environmental defender stood before her. Past betrayal was feeding his anger.

“You fed me little bits of information to get my sympathy. Paparazzi hounding you as a child, trying to avoid the limelight, pretending you’re uncomfortable in my apartment”—

“Real fears you witnessed and dealt with.” Distress forced her protest. “We’ve made love in every room of your apartment until there isn’t a room where I can’t smell you, can’t feel your presence. You’ve banished that fear.”

“What did you hope to gain?” Disillusion, or was it disgust thickening his voice? “I saw you. You live in the shadows.” He’d been pacing, his movements gaining in speed as he reeled off accusations.

“You’ve been looking for reasons to doubt me?” Kate sucked in air, the extent of his distrust sinking in. She should have been listening harder when he’d said truth was an absolute for him, not a journey to trust. A secret was always a lie.

“Looking!” He whirled and took a step towards her, glaring at her with something close to loathing. “I’ve been blind. Is the story about Andrew even real?”

She flinched. This was her fault. Her cowardice had turned a secret she’d relied on for protection into a weapon big enough to blow them apart. Bringing Futureproof Mining into their relationship was like sliding a knife into his soft underbelly. What were the odds Liam would be coming out of the bookshop just as she was going into the building?

“You deserve the truth”—she swallowed the lump in her throat—“but right now you aren’t open to hearing it.”

He turned his back. His gesture frightened her with its finality. Small things she’d discounted at the time, small withdrawals, slapped her with new force. His sideways glances as if waiting for her to say more than she had. She could trace it back to her refusal to stop at the cottage.

“I’m examining objective facts. I saw you go into the building.” He restated his case as if making any concession was a weakness he couldn’t forgive in himself.

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