‘Vince…’
‘Maybe one day, Charley, okay? Maybe one day. But not now. I really can’t do this right now so, get some things together and I’ll make sure there’s an apartment ready for you by this afternoon.’
‘No, Vince, please… we can talk about this.’
He shook his head, unable to look at her anymore because if he did there was every chance that he’d back down, and he couldn’t do that. Not yet. It was way too soon.
‘I’ll give you a couple of hours to get sorted, okay?’ he said, making his way out of the bedroom. ‘Someone will drop off the apartment key card for you as soon as possible.’
And that was it. He was gone. The only good thing that had ever happened to Charley. And she had nobody to blame but herself.
***
Reece strode purposefully through the hotel gardens, along the narrow, winding, flower-lined walkway that led to the private villas, ignoring the constant vibrating of his cell phone in his jacket pocket. It’d be Martha, trying to make him back off, leave it alone, but he couldn’t do that. Not anymore. He’d had enough of the secrets and the lies that had almost torn his family apart. This time he was going to confront the man who’d caused his daughter so much pain. The man whom his daughter seemed unable to forget, despite everything he’d done to her.
Reece couldn’t get his head around it, he couldn’t quite understand what was going on in her mind, why she still felt so much for a man like Michael Walsh, and right now he didn’t really care. He just needed to confront Michael, to get rid of his own demons. What kind of a father would he be if he just let this go?
Approaching Michael’s villa, Reece slowed down slightly, looking around him, making sure India was nowhere to be seen before he almost ran up the long driveway, hammering hard on the imposing wooden front doors, stopping only briefly for a second or two to catch his breath and breathe in deep, preparing himself for the confrontation to come.
Hammering hard on the door again he heard voices from inside, drawing closer, shouting at him to stop with the knocking. Reece took a step back, more than ready to do what he should have done over seven years ago, his heart beating ten to the dozen as he waited for the door to be flung open. And when it finally was, Michael stood there, his face stoic if not slightly puzzled at the sight of Reece on his doorstep.
‘Something wrong?’ he asked, but before he’d even got the words out of his mouth Reece had pushed him inside, sending him reeling back against the wall. ‘Jesus, Reece, what the fuck…?’
‘Don’t… don’t even talk to me, you got that? Don’t talk to me, because I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me right now. I don’t want to hear the excuses and the lies and the…’
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Layla asked, running into the hallway, wrapping her pale pink silk dressing gown tighter around her. ‘Reece?’
Reece didn’t move his eyes away from Michael’s. ‘You raped my daughter. You did that… and you think I can just forget about it?’
‘It was seven years ago, Reece…’
‘I said I didn’t want to hear you talk, didn’t you fucking hear me?’
‘Michael?’ Layla asked, a small hint of panic creeping into her voice. ‘Is… is this true?’
‘Of course it’s fucking true!’ Reece almost spat the words out, looking briefly over at Layla before turning his attention back to Michael. ‘And it doesn’t matter when it happened, it happened. You did that, you raped my beautiful daughter and you expect me to leave it alone because it happened seven years ago? You really think I can do that? Huh?’
‘Please, Reece, we can talk about this…’
‘Talk? What the fuck can you possibly think I want to talk about?’
Michael pulled himself upright, steadying himself against the banister as Layla continued to stare at him, watching what was going on, confusion washing over her like a tidal wave.
‘I don’t understand…’ she whispered, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes, blinking furiously to try and stop them from falling. ‘Michael… did you…?’
Michael looked at her, his heart breaking in that all-too-familiar fashion but he wasn’t altogether sure who it was breaking for – the woman who stood here in front of him, this beautiful woman who’d been willing to take him back, despite everything he’d done to her? Or the woman he knew he could never live without. India Walsh. His obsession; his life.
‘Oh, Jesus,’ Layla gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her voice shaking. ‘You raped India?’
‘Layla, honey, I can explain…’
Reece threw his head back, letting out a loud, cynical laugh. ‘You can explain?’ He moved closer to Michael, his voice slow and steady. ‘My daughter should never have gone anywhere near you.’
‘I loved her, Reece. You have no idea how much… And I don’t know what made me do what I did…’
‘You don’t know why you raped her?’
Layla couldn’t stop the tears from falling any longer as small, sharp sobs wracked her body and as much as Reece wanted to run to her and comfort her and tell her to get the hell out while she still could, he wasn’t finished. He still had work to do. Layla now knew the truth about the man she professed to love; it was up to her what she did with that information.
‘I should kill you, for what you did to her. And believe me, I want to. More than you could fucking imagine, but that’s just not me. I’m not some fucking monster. And where would that get me anyway, huh?’
‘You have no idea how sorry…’
Reece laughed that laugh again, more than surprised at how calm and in control he felt in a situation that could go any way at any given moment. But he could handle this.
‘Sorry? You’re fucking sorry? You ruined my daughter’s life, Walsh. You got inside her head and you refused to let go and that’s killing her, do you realise that? It’s fucking killing her.’
‘Reece, please…’ Layla’s voice caused Reece to break his stare from Michael for a second, and as he turned around he found himself looking at yet another woman who’d been hurt at the hands of this man, her pretty face stained with tears that were now streaming down her cheeks. ‘Can’t you give… give him a chance to explain? I mean, India she… she’s moved on, hasn’t she? She… she’s with Dominic now…’
Reece continued to stare at Layla. ‘She’s with Dominic,’ he repeated slowly, looking down at the ground for a second, scuffing his shoe on the marble floor, his hands pushed deep into his pockets. He looked back up at Layla. ‘Yeah. She’s with Dominic. But, you see, I’ve got a problem with that relationship too.’ He turned his attention back to Michael who’d managed to gather himself together, looking calmer than he really felt as he leant back against the wall. ‘When she found out he was your son, she ran, didn’t she? She ran from the situation, she left it behind, knew she couldn’t stay with him because of who he was. But then she came back. She came back and she took him back, and do you know why I think she did that?’
Michael just stared at Reece, no words seemingly able to come out of his mouth anymore. He just felt out of it, dizzy, as though all of this was happening to someone else and he was just watching everything from a safe distance.
‘She did that because it was the closest she could get to you without actually taking you back. Don’t you see that?’
‘That isn’t my fault,’ Michael whispered, suddenly feeling light-headed, a tightness creeping across his chest that hadn’t been there before.
‘Of course it’s your fucking fault!’ Reece was aware that he was shouting again and he pushed a hand through his hair, trying to regain the calm composure he’d managed to hang onto for so long during this confrontation. ‘It’s your fault because you dragged her in so deep that she couldn’t let you go, she couldn’t leave you alone. You wouldn’t fucking let her…’
Michael closed his eyes for a second, the tightness he’d felt before now giving way to a sharp pain that seemed to travel from his chest to his lef
t arm, causing him to feel breathless, a sudden, uncharacteristic feeling of anxiety sweeping over him. He felt a strange mixture of just wanting to go to sleep tinged with this pain that seemed to be taking over, Reece’s voice now almost fading into the distance.
‘But she won’t go back to you, Michael. I see that now, I know that’ll never happen, no matter how deluded you might be to think otherwise. She’ll never go back to you, but she’s damn well going to have the next best thing – your fucking son.’
‘He’s… not… my… he’s not my… my son…’ Michael’s breath was catching in this throat, making it harder to get the words out, his eyes losing focus as a pain like a heavy weight being thrown against his chest almost winded him, causing him to slide to the floor.
Layla immediately ran over to him, crouching down beside him. ‘Michael? Michael… can you hear me? Michael!’
‘Pain…’ He couldn’t get the words out; he couldn’t find the energy to speak. Every movement was taking a strength he just didn’t have anymore.
Layla looked up at Reece who immediately pulled out his phone, calmly dialling the number Vince had given them all in case of emergencies – of any kind – turning his back as he spoke to security.
‘Reece…?’
He turned back around, taking in Layla’s pleading eyes as she clung onto Michael’s hand – another beautiful young woman who’d been sucked under the spell of a man Reece could find little pity with.
‘Paramedics are on their way,’ Reece said, that calm manner still very much evident as he crouched down to their level, looking at Michael as he struggled for breath, gripping Layla’s hand. ‘You’re going to be fine, Michael.’
‘Is he?’ Layla asked, panic now very much evident in her voice. ‘How the hell do you know that, huh? You walk in here, accusing him of all sorts… You did this to him. You did this!’
Reece stood back up, saying nothing, putting his hands back in his pockets as he walked outside to wait for the paramedics. He had nothing to feel guilty about. He had nothing to feel sorry for. If anything, in Reece’s eyes, this was only payback that a man like Michael Walsh had had coming for a long, long time.
***
India breathed in deep as Dominic once more pushed his way into her with a beautiful force that shook her body with a warm, tingling shiver, every inch of her giving in to him, because that’s what he did to her. He left her no choice. One touch and she was under that spell that only men in the Walsh family seemed able to cast – although she still wasn’t entirely sure if this particular man she was making love with now knew that he was doing it, whereas his famous father almost certainly did.
Banishing yet more thoughts of Michael to the back of her mind she closed her eyes and threw her head back, letting Dominic take over. The feel of his lips on her skin coaxed little moans and gasps out of her, his fingers stroking her breasts gently before replacing his fingers with his mouth, which only served to make India cry out more. What he could do to her with just one kiss, one touch of his mouth against hers, it was crazy!
‘I think I might be falling in love with you, Mr Movie Star,’ she groaned, wrapping her legs around him, pushing him in deeper, throwing her arms above her head as she stretched out.
Dominic looked at her, stroking the hair from her eyes, wanting to look into them when he heard her say that again, because he needed to know that she’d meant it.
‘You might?’ he smiled, which caused India’s stomach to turn a million and one back flips as she stared into his ice-blue eyes. ‘You think you might?’
She threw her head back and laughed, gripping him tight, keeping him firmly inside her because they were nowhere near finished here and she wanted to know he was very much a part of her when she told him words that she’d previously found so hard to say to him. Words that seemed to come so easy all of a sudden. Had it taken just one more dose of Dominic MacDonald to make her realise how she really felt?
His fingers stroked her hip gently as his mouth lowered down onto hers, their bodies still moving together in that crazy, sexy rhythm as an air of inevitability surrounded them. This was the final straight, they were almost home. A conclusion was drawing ever closer.
‘So, you think you might be falling in love with me, huh?’ Dominic whispered, his mouth resting on hers, his breath warm on her face.
She reached out to touch his cheek, running her fingertips over it, smiling as she felt him move inside her – this man who’d crashed into her life with a secret he should never have kept to himself, but none of that seemed to matter anymore.
‘Yeah. I think I might be falling in love with you.’
He smiled again, sending India’s stomach into the now seemingly-obligatory somersault routine that appeared to be ever-present whenever he was around.
‘Well, I know I love you, Ms Queen-of-the-Rom-Com.’
She laughed again, arching her back as he pushed deeper into her, sending her body into a wonderfully warm spasm of white hot pain, his final release one they felt with a force that rocked them both.
‘Jesus! That was five minutes really well spent,’ India breathed, closing her eyes for a second as Dominic slowly withdrew, rolling over to lie next to her.
‘You weren’t so bad yourself, beautiful,’ he grinned, reaching out to take her hand, his fingers closing around hers.
She turned her head to look at him, sticking her tongue out.
‘Y’know, that’s a hell of a lot sexier than you might think,’ Dominic laughed, pulling her over onto him, watching her every move as she knelt up astride him, her naked body toned to within an inch of its life, as near perfect as any he’d ever seen. ‘Marry me, India.’
The words had come out before he’d even had a chance to think about whether or not this was the right time – which it probably wasn’t. He was met with a wall of silence. She said nothing, turning away from him to stare out of the window.
‘India…?’
She climbed off him, hurriedly pulling on her clothes, shaking her hair out before pulling it back into a high ponytail. ‘I heard what you said, Dominic.’
He jumped out of bed, pulling on his jeans. ‘And?’ He walked over to her, reaching out to take her hand and she let him, but she didn’t look at him. She was staring out of the window again.
‘No, Dominic. No. I’m not going to marry you.’
The mood had just changed in an instant and Dominic felt his stomach sink, a feeling he’d never thought possible – a feeling that washed over him like a blanket of sadness. A feeling he’d never, ever felt before.
‘I… Look, I’m… I love you, India…’
‘I know you do.’ She finally turned to look at him, her fingers squeezing his hand. ‘And I think I love you too, okay? But, I can’t marry you. I can’t do that.’
He looked down at their joined hands, stroking her fingers gently as they clung onto his. ‘Is there a reason for that?’
‘There are a hundred reasons, Dominic. Jesus, I’ve only just come through my third divorce for one. And we’ve only just met, remember? We don’t even know each other all that well in reality, do we? Not really… Look, I just need some breathing space, can you understand that? I don’t want to go jumping straight into another marriage so soon… I don’t even know if I ever want to get married again…’
‘Especially to a man who’s turned out to be the son of the man you really love.’
She narrowed her eyes, letting go of his hand. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Oh, come on, India. Everybody knows that the only man you’ve ever really loved is Michael Walsh. And I don’t think I’m ever really going to be able to get past daddy, am I?’
‘Okay.’ She held her hands up, walking away from him, out into the hall, running down the stairs. ‘I don’t need this.’
Dominic ran after her, determined not to let this one go. Maybe he shouldn’t have said what he had but he’d been thinking aloud, voicing thoughts that had been playing on his mind e
ver since he’d laid eyes on this woman.
‘I’m sorry, alright? India…’
‘No, it’s not alright, Dominic.’ She turned around, part of her wanting to run to him and let him hold her tight because she wanted to be with him, she really did. But what he’d said about Michael – was that even just the tiniest bit true? Had he hit a nerve? She didn’t know, and she didn’t really want to think about it. What she wanted was a cup of very strong coffee. And Kenny. She needed to talk to Kenny. ‘It’s not alright.’
‘India! Jesus, how the hell did we get from me asking you to marry me to you walking away from me? Huh? Come on, baby. Let’s talk about this.’
But she’d already flung open the front door, her attention suddenly distracted by what looked like a lot of activity going on over at Michael’s villa.
‘India?’ Dominic’s voice made her turn around briefly to look at him, but she didn’t really care what he wanted anymore. Something was going on over at Michael’s. Something that seemed to be shrouded in an element of the usual movie-star secrecy she’d been so used to witnessing during her years in Hollywood, and when that element of secrecy was exercised, then it usually meant that something serious was going down.
‘Something’s going on over there,’ she said, grabbing Dominic’s hand and pulling him outside.
He looked over towards the villa opposite as a large blacked-out van pulled right up to the doorway, blocking their view, but all that did was make India’s stomach jolt with a feeling of dread. This wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t look right, and India just knew that something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
She could hear voices; a female voice, a voice full of panic, a voice that told her that person was near-on hysterical and although she couldn’t really see anything, she knew it was Layla. Of course it was Layla, who else would it be?
‘What the hell…’ Dominic said, gripping India’s hand tighter.
Illusions of Love Page 37
