by Annie West
‘You think children might interrupt our sex-life?’
A little flicker of shock—or was it pleasure?—went through her. Children plural. She was still wrapping her head around the concept of a single pregnancy.
Yet she could visualise Flynn striding across a sunlit park with a couple of children. A raven-haired little boy, all pluck and adventure, and a girl who adored her daddy, riding on his shoulders.
Ava had never ridden on her father’s shoulders. She couldn’t remember getting even a hug from him. But Flynn would be a wonderful father. He came from a loving family. He’d pass that on to their children. He’d always been kind to her and Rupe, never condescending or blaming them for her father’s rudeness.
‘Do you want children?’ It amazed her that she’d never asked. Everything had happened so quickly.
‘Yes. But if you want to wait that’s okay. The time has to be right for us both.’
Ava exhaled. Things could have got difficult if they’d had opposing views. Thankfully they were attuned, well-matched despite their short courtship. If anyone had told her she’d marry so quickly, and without discussing such important issues, she’d have scoffed. But Flynn had swept into her life and turned it upside down. It should have frightened her, but she was too happy for fear.
‘This apartment isn’t the place to bring up kids,’ he murmured.
‘I agree.’ Fresh air appealed, but they worked in the City.
‘We need to look for a house.’
She smiled. ‘With a big garden. Big enough for a dog and a tree house.’
Ava envisaged them having afternoon tea on the grass, or kicking a football with the children. It was such an idyllic picture, and she wondered where it had come from. It wasn’t anything she’d experienced. But then when she was young she’d escaped reality in the fantasy world of books and her imagination. Maybe it was how she’d envisaged other kids spending time with their family.
‘Of course. A rambling house with space for a family. But something with style. A place that makes a statement.’
Ava’s brow puckered. Making a statement wasn’t what she’d had in mind. But Flynn was in property and he had wealth. He’d want a place he could be proud of.
‘I suppose you’ll want to entertain a lot?’
‘Not all the time. I value privacy. But entertaining will be important, and with you at my side I know it will go well.’
She heard a thread of excitement in his words and felt ridiculously pleased.
‘You were wonderful tonight.’ His voice caressed her. ‘A wife can be an enormous business asset.’
‘I know.’ Hadn’t her mother been just such an asset? She swallowed hard. Flynn’s demands would be far more reasonable than her father’s. ‘I’ll help you, Flynn. I’m so proud of you and all you’ve achieved. You’ve come a long way. I can only guess at the hard work and determination that got you where you are.’
His hand stopped, his fingers heavy on her hip. ‘You’re proud of me?’
Ava wriggled onto her stomach, lying over him full-length and lifting her head, propping her chin on her fist. She adored the feel of his body beneath hers.
‘Don’t sound surprised. Of course I am.’
He didn’t smile. ‘Some people think I’m ruthless. Tunnel-visioned.’
‘They don’t know you.’ She stroked a finger along the corner of his mouth. ‘You’d never do anything bad. Nothing illegal, for instance.’
It took a moment for him to answer. ‘No, nothing illegal.’
‘Of course not.’ She trailed her finger along his hard jaw. ‘You’re not that sort of man.’
‘What sort of man am I?’ Long fingers twined in her hair, tugging her closer, sliding damp flesh against flesh. Shimmering heat built again in her groin.
‘You’re hardworking, honest, sexy and incredibly thoughtful. You’ve got ambition but you know how to laugh.’ Ava hitched herself higher, her breasts rubbing his chest. She smiled. ‘And you’re a fantastic lover, Mr Marshall.’
His eyes held hers for so long she felt the swing and swoop of emotion deep down inside. No one had ever looked at her so intently, taken the trouble to discover the real Ava. Only this wonderful man who’d asked her to share his life. She felt Flynn’s gaze probe deep, as if fathoming everything she felt, everything she wanted.
Tenderness was an unfurling bud inside, opening to spread warmth and such heady happiness that her breathing stalled. Ava swallowed, overcome by the depth of her feelings.
Yet Flynn’s expression remained serious, the grooves around his mouth digging deep, the line of his brow and the angle of his jaw almost harsh.
Rather than a man in love, he looked like a man in pain.
It must be a trick of the light.
‘Cheer up, Flynn. There are worse things than having a wife who adores you.’
She kissed the corner of his mouth, then dusted a just there kiss to the other corner, knowing he was sensitive there. She licked the seam of his lips, shifting so her breasts and belly rubbed him.
Flynn groaned. ‘Little witch!’
He clamped her to his stirring shaft and she smiled, a husky, triumphant laugh sneaking from her mouth. She loved the effect she had on him.
* * *
With a surge of energy Flynn rolled Ava onto her back. The tumble of their bodies spiked his arousal, testing his limits. Heat ignited as he sank close and fought the need to hammer her, hard and fast.
What had begun as attraction had become an addiction. He needed Ava more and more. Fortunately he had a lifetime to enjoy her enticing sensuality. Being yoked to a wife he didn’t desire would have been disastrous.
Her ability to distract him was a surprise. Not just when they were together, but when he worked, enticing his thoughts away from his careful plans.
Ava wriggled her hips and he grabbed her hands, clamping them on the pillow beside her head.
She had no idea what she was inviting. Less than a week ago she’d been a virgin. He owed it to her to go easy, not demand too much, even if she was a fast learner.
Flynn kissed her slowly, deeply, tenderly. His wife was precious and he intended to treat her that way. She was the key, the final piece in his plan to achieve all he’d ever wanted.
Already he had money, power and the grudging respect of his competitors. All he needed was acceptance to secure his place in society, ensuring that he and those he cared for would be secure always.
All his life he’d wanted what Michael Cavendish had. He’d seen Ava’s father triumph, ruling his world so nothing touched him or his. They’d led charmed lives, utterly different from his and his parents. Flynn had craved that with a consuming hunger. He’d made it his mission to have all Cavendish had taken for granted. That ambition had driven his phenomenal success.
Ava wriggled again, lifting her hips, and Flynn’s thoughts shattered.
He dragged in her sweet essence, shuddering as he held himself in check. He moved carefully, savouring the exquisite sensation of Ava’s body clamping around him.
The back of his head threatened to blast off.
All thought of goals and past pain disintegrated as she drew him towards the blazing white light of fulfilment. Her whimper of pleasure, her restless hands on his back and buttocks, the needy rise of her pelvis, tempted him to lose himself.
Flynn fought back, maintaining focus. He was in control always. He had to be.
Slowly he built Ava’s pleasure, ignoring the demands of his body for a swift, shattering completion.
It didn’t take long. Her soft cries filled the air and soon she was convulsing around him, fingers clutching, her hot gasps hazing his skin.
Finally he let himself go, following her into an orgasm that wrung him dry.
He was left boneless and replete, feeling absurdly as if
he’d been washed clean of everything except the imprint of her body.
It was an illusion. It would take more than fantastic sex to cleanse him.
With Ava in his arms he rolled onto his back, gathering her close. The reverberations of their climax still racked his body but that didn’t prevent the thoughts surfacing.
For the first time Flynn acknowledged a hint of regret, like a dark smudge on his conscience, marring his satisfaction.
Ava was in love with him. She admired him.
Something sharp jabbed his chest, like a rusty blade scoring deep.
Flynn dragged in a slow breath, telling himself the pain was an illusion.
He was whole and unscathed. He was on track to attain everything he’d ever wanted. Marriage to Ava wasn’t just the culmination of his plans, but possibly the best decision he’d ever made. She was the wife he needed. And there were unexpected bonuses. He couldn’t get enough of her. Not just her body but her smile, her fresh perspective, that husky gurgle of laughter that always made something like happiness rise in his chest.
He hadn’t realised when he’d proposed how much he’d enjoy being married.
Yet it wasn’t happiness he felt now. Or even satisfaction. It was disquiet.
She thought him honest.
Until meeting Ava again, he’d prided himself on being just that.
She thought they’d met by chance in Paris.
She’d been caught up in the romance of their meeting, of their trysts in a city designed for lovers.
How would she react if she discovered the truth?
Flynn frowned, dredging up familiar justification.
He hadn’t directly lied. He hadn’t said anything untruthful. He’d never claimed to have run into her by chance. Every word he’d said to Ava had been strictly accurate.
Which was why he’d never said he loved her.
That rusty blade twisted hard, carving between his ribs and making him catch his breath.
The way she looked at him when she said she loved him... He’d never known anything like it. It made him feel like a triumphant god among lesser mortals. It made him want to be a better man.
It made him wish he could tell her he loved her.
Flynn’s arms tightened, hugging her close.
He mightn’t be able to do that, but he’d look after her, give her everything she needed. Give her back what she’d once had and lost.
He’d always liked Ava, ever since she was a kid. She’d been the best of the Cavendishes. Even the one time she’d behaved irresponsibly, crashing her car, she’d made him feel protective, not disapproving.
Flynn thrust aside the memory of how much more than protective he’d felt that night. How desire had stirred. How it had coloured his thoughts of her ever since.
He was protecting her now, giving her back the lifestyle she’d been born to. Giving her the chance to mix with the crème de la crème of society, enjoying the good things in life. She wouldn’t be burdened by long hours of work, like his mother had been. As his wife she’d never have to worry about working.
Most women would be thrilled with a man who could give them that. His lips twisted as he remembered all those who’d unsuccessfully targeted him as a meal ticket.
It was stupid to feel this shadow of guilt. Ava was happy. She positively glowed when she smiled. He’d done that—given her the romantic dream she craved and more.
This was no time for doubts.
CHAPTER TEN
‘ARE YOU READY?’ Flynn’s voice came from behind Ava as she stood at the mirror, securing her hair in a classically elegant style that swept the thick waves up and left her neck bare.
She grimaced. It was a pity classical elegance took such effort. She preferred her hair loose. But she’d discovered this last month that Flynn liked her looking glamorous. Wavy hair with a tendency to frizz in damp weather wasn’t glamorous.
‘Just a minute,’ she said through some hairpins.
She shifted in her high heels. After a day in the office, dealing with the bureaucracy surrounding a scheme to build a holiday home for troubled kids, she was exhausted and her muscles were tight with frustration. She’d wanted to put in a few extra hours, determined to sort out the red tape. The outdoor centre for children who’d never had a vacation, and in many cases anyone who genuinely cared, was close to her heart. But Flynn was counting on her. She didn’t want to let him down.
Most nights it was the same. They’d go somewhere exclusively upmarket and mingle with beautiful people. Or, if not beautiful, rich.
Her suggestion that they relax at home hadn’t worked so, rather than be completely swamped by Flynn’s demanding schedule, Ava had made a point of sticking to at least one night with friends each week. Much as she loved Flynn, she didn’t want to lose contact with her friends.
But when did Flynn relax? He spent those evenings she was out working.
Now here they were again, preparing to spend the night networking. She was tired of the chatter of strangers, the game of ‘see and be seen’. The need to pretend she was someone who enjoyed these society events. Increasingly, she wished...
‘You look gorgeous.’ Flynn’s deep voice caressed her, sliding across her bare shoulders and neck like a touch.
Ava’s tiredness faded. She met his eyes in the mirror.
It was worth it, wearing a long, formal gown instead of one of her bright casual dresses. She did this for him.
‘So do you.’ He was breathtaking. Even with his hair too short for her taste, he filled out a dinner jacket like a movie star. And there was nothing fake about the approval in his eyes as they swept her reflection in the mirror.
Her nipples peaked in her strapless bra and anticipation fluttered in her belly.
‘Are you sure you want to go out tonight?’ She shoved in the last pin and dropped her arms, watching his gaze drift from her face to her throat and breasts. Heat shimmered at the intensity of Flynn’s gaze.
He wanted them to be alone as much as she did. It was in his eyes. And in his concentrated passion every night when they returned from some forgettable society function and he took her in his arms.
‘Why don’t we stay in?’ Her voice was husky as she imagined them alone for a whole evening. Not just making love but talking, sharing. ‘We never have time alone.’
She missed that. Terribly.
‘You’ve worked the last three weekends, and at night you only have time for a quick change before we go to some function.’ Ava planted her hands on her hips, watching with satisfaction as Flynn’s gaze flickered to her outthrust breasts. Was it the graze of lace on sensitive skin or the glint in his eyes that made her shiver?
‘You’d rather I let my business slide?’ His eyes locked with hers and his brow pinched.
‘I’d rather you put it in perspective.’ She trod carefully. Marriage took adjustment—for them both. She’d made a point of supporting him in his networking because it was important to him. But there were limits. ‘You can’t go on like this. The hours you put in are unhealthy.’
‘The hours I put in are the same as always. Less since we married.’ Flynn’s big shoulders seemed to bunch, emphasising his latent power. A pulse ticked in his jaw.
Ava cocked her head. ‘Are you angry with me?’ The thought was so alien it shocked her. Till now there’d been no hint of dissension between them.
Because you agree to everything he suggests.
No. She’d made a conscious decision to support the man she loved. He never asked her to do more than she was comfortable with. Not like her father.
The comparison with her odious father only highlighted how lucky she was. Flynn cared for her. Even if he had trouble saying the words, like most men. He was gentle and considerate, generous and passionate.
‘Angry?�
�� He shook his head. ‘No.’
Yet there was something wrong.
‘I worry about you, Flynn. You take on so much and relax so little.’ She swung around to face him, her hands gripping the vanity behind her. ‘I’m amazed you found time to take a couple of hours off in Paris for that boat ride where we met. And as for a whole week in Prague...’ She shook her head. ‘Your entire life is work.’
To Ava’s surprise colour washed his high cheekbones.
‘I’m not accusing you,’ she said. After all he’d given her—his love and warmth—she felt she was nagging. Except this wasn’t about her, no matter how much she wanted more time alone with him. It was about Flynn.
‘I know what I’m doing, Ava.’ His tone was as tight as those hunched shoulders. ‘Business is booming, but I need to secure it for the future.’
She frowned. His business was as secure as it could get. It was diversified through commercial, residential and tourist developments. Market fluctuations could affect those, but there would always be a core of valuable content as Flynn didn’t just buy and sell, but developed and maintained.
‘Tonight is important, Ava.’
Slowly she nodded, biting down the retort that every function was important. Flynn spent his time deep in discussion with important people while she looked picturesque and chatted with hangers-on. Even the businesswomen relegated her to the substratum of ‘decorative other’. Ava hated so much about that milieu, but she refused to let it daunt her.
Flynn was so caught up in business he couldn’t see that there were better places to be, more worthwhile ways to spend what should be his down time. She needed to help him find perspective, focus on what was important—building their lives together. She couldn’t do that by withdrawing from him. It might take time—more than she’d prefer—but eventually she’d help him to find the right balance.
Meanwhile she’d be at his side. Even though she felt unsettled, trapped in a role that made her uneasy.
Was it because it reminded her of her mother’s role years ago? To look decorative and enticing, to charm and smile, and not to mind her husband’s neglect or his darker machinations.
