The Darkest of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

ask for a Renaissance expert? There’s art from every period here.’
    ‘True,’ Khalis said. He came to stand by her shoulder, gazing at the Picasso as well. ‘Although, frankly, that looks like something my five-year-old god-daughter might paint in Nursery.’
    ‘That’s enough to make Picasso roll in his grave.’
    ‘Well, she is very clever.’
    Grace gave a little laugh, surprising herself. She rarely laughed. She rarely let a man make her laugh. ‘Is your god-daughter in California?’
    ‘Yes, she’s the daughter of one of my shareholders.’
    Grace gazed at the painting. ‘Clever she may be, but most art historians would shudder to compare Picasso with a child and a box of finger paints.’
    ‘Oh, she has a paintbrush.’
    Grace laughed again, softly, a little breath of sound. ‘Maybe she’ll be famous one day.’ She half-turned and, with a somersault of her heart, realised just how close he had come. His face—his lips —were mere inches away. She could see their mobile fullness, amazed at how such a masculine man could have such lush, kissable, sexy lips. She felt a shaft of longing pierce her and quickly she moved onto the next painting. ‘So why me? Why a Renaissance specialist?’
    ‘Because of these.’
    He took her hand in his own and shock jolted through her with the force of an electric current, short-circuiting her senses. Grace jerked her hand away from his too hard, her breath coming out in an outraged gasp.
    Khalis stopped, an eyebrow arched. Grace knew her reaction had been ridiculously extreme. How could she explain it? She could not, not easily at any rate. She decided to ignore the whole sorry little episode and raised her chin a notch. ‘Show me, please.’
    ‘Very well.’ With one last considering look he led her to a door she hadn’t noticed in the back of the room. He opened it and switched on an electric light before ushering her inside.
    The room was small and round, and it felt like being inside a tower, or perhaps a shrine. Grace saw only two artworks on the walls, and they stole the breath right from her lungs.
    ‘What—’ She stepped closer, stared hard at the wood panels with their thick brushstrokes of oil paint. ‘Do you know what these are?’ she whispered.
    ‘Not precisely,’ Khalis told her, ‘but they definitely aren’t something my god-daughter could paint.’
    Grace smiled and shook her head. ‘No, indeed.’ She stepped closer, her gaze roving over the painted wood panels. ‘Leonardo da Vinci.’
    ‘Yes, he’s quite famous, isn’t he?’
    Her smile widened, to her own amazement. She hadn’t expected Khalis Tannous to amuse her. ‘He is, rather. But they could be forgeries, you know.’
    ‘I doubt they are,’ Khalis answered. ‘Simply by the fact they’re in their own little room.’ He paused, his tone turning grim. ‘And I know my father. He didn’t like to be tricked.’
    ‘Forgeries can be of exceptional quality,’ Grace told him. ‘And they even have their own value—’
    ‘My father—’ Khalis cut her off ‘—liked the best.’
    She turned back to the paintings, drinking them in. If these were real … how many people had seen these ever ? ‘How on earth did he find them?’
    ‘I have no idea. I don’t really want to know.’
    ‘They weren’t stolen, at least not from a museum.’
    ‘No?’
    ‘These have never been in a museum.’
    ‘Then they are rather special, aren’t they?’
    She gave a little laugh. ‘You could say that.’ She shook her head slowly, still trying to take it in. Two original Leonardo paintings never seen in a museum. Never known to exist, beyond rumours. ‘If these are real, they would comprise the most significant find of the art world in the last century.’
    Khalis sighed heavily, almost as if he were disappointed by such news. ‘I suspected as much,’ he said, and flicked out the lights. ‘You can examine them at length later. But right now I think we both deserve some