by Annie West
Ava shivered and rubbed her hands up her bare arms.
‘I’m taking Saturday off to be with you.’ Flynn spoke and she looked up to find him close, satisfaction in his dark eyes. ‘I’ve found a house. We can see it together.’
‘A house?’ Excitement rose. There! Things were looking up. From his expression, it was something special. ‘What’s it like?’
‘Old, large and rambling. The kitchen and some other rooms need updating, but there’s plenty of space. Room for a treehouse and a dog.’
‘You remembered.’ Ava smiled at him, her hand on his sleeve. His hand closed over hers, its warmth engulfing her.
‘Of course I remembered.’
His smile lifted spirits that had dipped low. Of course he’d remembered. This was Flynn. He might be too wedded to work but she had no doubts about his feelings for her. She was determined to save him from his workaholic tendencies.
‘And it meets your needs for entertaining?’ A comfortable old house in need of modernising didn’t sound the kind of place to entertain VIPs.
‘It will meet my needs perfectly.’
His smile broadened and Ava’s with it. Once in a place of their own, rather than this soulless apartment, she could make it welcoming and persuade him to stay in more often.
‘I’m looking forward to showing you. I think you’ll approve.’
‘I can’t wait.’
The idea of house-hunting together banished her qualms about yet another night on show for Flynn’s associates. She felt as if she’d become an attachment to his old life. They needed to move on and build a new life together. It would be fun, viewing places together and eventually finding the perfect home.
‘I have something else.’ He held out a flat black velvet box. Its embossed gold logo belonged to a famous jewellery house, renowned for designs worn by royalty.
Ava felt a tiny stab of disquiet.
She’d married a wealthy man. He could afford expensive gifts. Yet till now that hadn’t included jewellery other than her wedding and engagement rings.
Ava couldn’t shift the memory of her father giving her mother jewels to show off her décolletage in the revealing gowns he’d insisted she wore in public. Of the way he’d encouraged other men to admire them and her in ways that had distressed Ava.
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Flynn’s eyebrows lowered in a crumpled line.
‘I’m stunned,’ she said, covering her hesitation.
‘Only the best for you, Ava.’
He pressed the box into her hand. It lay heavy on her palm.
‘Well, open it.’
Hesitantly she did. Blue fire flashed. She felt her eyes bulge, her breath snare.
‘Oh, Flynn.’ Something worked high in her chest.
‘“Oh, Flynn”, nice?’ he teased.
‘How can you even ask?’
‘They match your eyes,’ he said when she didn’t move, just stared.
Tears pricked. As if her eyes could ever be such a pure, entrancing colour as these exquisite Ceylon sapphires!
‘I want to see you wear them.’
His voice was gruff and she jerked her gaze up, catching a tenderness in his expression he usually saved for the bedroom. Her heart turned over. How could she not love a man who looked at her that way?
‘Put them on me?’ She pushed the box into his hands and turned to the mirror.
The high collar of cerulean blue gems interwoven with diamonds was cool against her skin. It made her pale throat look delicate, almost regal. She felt the platinum chain with its tassel of clustered sapphires and diamonds fall from her nape, tickling the skin between her shoulderblades. She shivered as Flynn traced his finger over its fall, then down to the low back of her dress.
‘That’s why you asked me to wear this dress?’ The low cut was a perfect foil to the stunning jewellery.
He nodded and stroked his hand back up between her shoulderblades. Beneath the ruched silk of the formal gown Ava’s breasts swelled and tightened.
‘Now the earrings,’ he murmured, holding them out.
The sapphire and diamond drops swished against Ava’s skin when she moved her head, turning her from passably pretty into full-on glamour girl. The effect was startling—and a little disturbing. But when she turned to Flynn for reassurance she found him watching her with palpable pride and pleasure.
What did it matter if she didn’t feel like herself, wearing such finery? That she wasn’t used to feeling...bedecked?
Flynn kissed her wrist, his lips hot to her cold flesh.
‘You look beautiful, Ava.’ He released her hand and stepped back to take her in. ‘You’ll be the cynosure of all eyes. No other woman will hold a candle to you. You’ll be the most glamorous, most richly dressed woman there.’
Ava stiffened. That was what mattered to Flynn? That she was so expensively dressed she was conspicuous?
Something inside stilled, then turned to ice as she saw the triumph in his eyes.
Was her role simply to be visible proof of his immense wealth?
Suddenly the necklace tightened around her throat like a snare.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BY SATURDAY AVA had put things in perspective. She’d been mistaken about Flynn’s motives. The admiration in his eyes at the business gala had told its own tale. He’d stayed at her side all evening, never abandoning her even for business. When they’d made love later he’d made her feel like a princess, pampered and adored.
She shoved aside the thought that she didn’t want to be treated like a precious doll. She was just tired. The plans for the children’s holiday retreat she’d put so much effort into had completely unravelled due to zoning complications. Ava sighed and rubbed her forehead.
‘Problems?’ Flynn slanted her a look from the driver’s seat.
‘A few. The project I’m working on has hit an obstacle.’
‘You need to switch off.’
The way he did? But today Flynn hadn’t mentioned work. From the moment she’d woken she’d sensed a buzz of excitement in him. She smiled, revelling in the prospect of a whole day with him. Hadn’t she told herself things would change? Her patience was finally being rewarded.
‘How far from central London is this house?’ They’d already travelled further than she’d expected.
‘Outside London. That’s the surprise.’
He darted a grin her way and her insides turned molten.
‘Outside? But the commute—’
‘It will be worth it. You’ll see. This is something special. As for commuting—I’ll set up an office in the house and work from there a couple of days a week. It will be a stretch, but I’m sure it can be done.’
‘But I’ll still need to travel to my work.’
Another sideways glance. ‘You never know what’s around the corner. There may be opportunities for you closer to home. And we’ll keep the City apartment for overnight stays. Besides...’ He paused. ‘Longer term, the country will be better for bringing up children. You said so yourself.’
Slowly Ava nodded. She had said that. Although she’d meant in the much longer term. But they were only looking at the first house. Who knew how long it would be before they found the right place? Besides, the day was bright, the sun shone and they were together.
She relaxed in her seat, alternately watching the scenery and Flynn’s strong, dark features. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to believe they were together. The odds against them connecting again in Paris...it didn’t bear thinking about...
Lack of sleep must have caught up with Ava. The car passed over a rough patch and she stirred from a doze. Slowly she stretched.
‘We’re here.’
Flynn’s tone jerked her fully awake. There was an excitement in it she�
�d never heard before from him.
Ava opened her eyes and then blinked, gaping, wondering if she still slept and this was a dream.
The car was following a long gravel drive lined with overhanging trees, their autumn-tinted branches spreading wide. Ahead the road curved, and at the bend stood a grove of massive rhododendrons.
Ava’s heart clutched as if an ice-cold hand had reached out and squeezed it.
She recognised the long drive...the rhododendrons.
Eyes wide, she took in the woods to one side, the landscaped park to the other. Her nape tightened, flesh prickling.
Flynn halted the car on an arched stone bridge over a man-made lake.
The bridge had been designed as a perfect vantage point to view the sprawling stone building before them. Ava knew that. Just as she knew the chimneys in the west wing had a tendency to smoke and the butler’s pantry was reputedly haunted by the ghost of an old retainer with a fondness for port.
And that even the light from the huge south-facing windows had never been enough to dispel the chill when her father had been in residence.
‘Frayne Hall.’
Was that brittle voice hers?
‘Surprised?’
Slowly she turned. Flynn’s smile was satisfied, full of anticipation. Ava couldn’t share it. Her lips felt stiff.
‘Stunned.’ She swallowed. ‘Why are we here?’
Ava hadn’t revisited the Hall since the day she’d severed ties with her father and walked out to make her own way in the world.
‘I told you we were viewing a house I’d found.’
‘This house?’ Her voice was just a few notes off a screech. Through her bubble of shock Ava saw Flynn frown. She pressed a hand to her chest to still her hammering heart. ‘I’d imagined a place in the suburbs.’
Flynn’s eyebrows winged up. ‘Hardly. I want something special for us.’ He shook his head. ‘I think you keep forgetting how much I can afford.’
That had been one of the few areas of...not disagreement, but concern between them. Used to supporting herself, Ava was a frugal shopper. But Flynn insisted on the best. ‘The best’ being designer evening dresses and deliciously sexy shoes far out of her usual budget.
‘I thought you’d be excited.’ He sounded surprised. ‘The place belonged to your mother’s family for hundreds of years.’
Six hundred, to be precise. Till the family lost its money and her social-climbing father, with his newly minted wealth and an eye for a bargain, bought it and married the daughter of the house.
A shiver tightened Ava’s flesh.
‘Come on.’ Flynn started the car. ‘Let’s take a closer look.’
By the time they pulled up at the grand front entrance Ava had herself in hand. Flynn’s ideas and hers on a suitable house were obviously wildly different, but they could work on that.
As for Frayne Hall—now the shock was over she was curious. Despite the tainted memories, this had been her home for seventeen years. She’d loved much of it—especially when her father hadn’t been at home. She’d see the place, satisfy her curiosity, then tell Flynn she’d rather not live here. Simple.
‘Ready?’
Flynn was holding her door open before she’d gathered herself. His hand was warm around hers. His smile coaxed and she pushed aside her qualms. The man she adored had organised what he thought was something special for her.
‘Ready.’
* * *
An hour later they stood in the grand drawing room. The light from the tall windows emphasised the lack of furniture and showed the bare places where paintings had once hung.
Ava preferred it this way: elegant, beautiful and unmarred by the ostentatious displays that had been Michael Cavendish’s hallmark. Despite his insistence that his family and home look like something from a glossy magazine, he’d always erred on the showy side. He’d tried too hard to prove he fitted with the wealthy elite he pandered to.
‘What do you think?’ Flynn rested his arm on the ornate mantelpiece.
‘I think you look right at home.’
Ava was used to seeing him in a suit, the epitome of corporate success. She preferred him like this. In jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up he looked relaxed, yet vital and devastatingly gorgeous.
There’d been a light inside him ever since they’d arrived. It reminded her of him years ago. Tousle-haired and vigorous, he’d always seemed more at home roaming the forest or helping his father in the park than inside.
‘You should let your hair grow.’
‘Sorry?’
Ava smiled. ‘I want to run my fingers through your hair.’
‘Are you coming on to me, Mrs Marshall?’ He snared her wrist, pulling her against him.
‘I could be, Mr Marshall.’ She read the wicked gleam in his eyes and the last of her reserve fled.
Against expectations, she’d enjoyed revisiting her old home. Whether because she’d temporarily managed to push aside the sour memories of the past or because she was here with Flynn, she didn’t know.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she murmured against his throat as she sank against him. ‘It means a lot.’
That had surprised her. For years she’d hated even thinking about Frayne Hall. When she’d seen the painting of it in Flynn’s apartment her initial reaction had been horror. But, viewing the place today, she realised her father’s posturing and conniving here had been a blink of the eye in the history of the house. Already he’d been relegated to the past, along with the showy pieces he’d bought to impress visitors. The knowledge brought her a sense of closure and, with it, a certain amount of peace.
‘It’s good to see it again. It’s a lovely old place.’
Flynn wrapped his arms around her. ‘I knew you’d like it.’
The words riffled her hair and she shut her eyes, enjoying the sensations being with him brought. She inhaled deeply. Was it her imagination or was the woodsy, outdoor tang of his skin more pronounced? She pressed her lips to his collarbone, nuzzling his warm skin.
‘I can see a massive Christmas tree just there.’ His voice intruded on the beginnings of a sensual fantasy. ‘Can’t you?’
‘Sorry?’ Ava blinked as he lifted her chin. Eyes dark as night met hers and the familiar burr of desire hummed in her blood.
He smiled. ‘I said I can imagine a Christmas tree there.’ He pointed across the room.
To her relief it wasn’t where the tree had been erected when she was young. That had been in the vast hall, emphasising the sense of holiday gaiety to all who entered. As if that could make up for the lack of true peace and goodwill on the premises.
‘And holly and ivy twining down the stairs.’ Flynn pointed towards the open doors and the grand staircase. ‘I used to help my father cut the greenery for the house, but I never saw it decorated.’
Of course he hadn’t. He’d not been allowed inside the big house except the kitchen, where his mother worked. None of the outdoor staff had. Her father hadn’t cared about his employees—just the people he’d wanted to impress.
‘It must have looked wonderful on the night of those winter balls. I remember looking in from the outside, seeing the chandeliers lit on the ground floor and the flambeaux in the garden, leading to the entrance.’
Ava nodded. ‘It was certainly spectacular.’
When she was tiny she’d loved the kaleidoscope colours of the guests as they’d mingled and danced. The glitter of light on mirrors and jewels. It was only as she’d grown older that she’d learned to hate the manufactured gaiety, recognising the undercurrents of greed and selfishness.
‘We’ll make it spectacular again. I can see you greeting our guests. You’ll have your hair up and wear your sapphires and everyone will know I’m the luckiest man. We’ll open the ballroom again
and fill the place.’ Flynn strode across the vast room as if measuring it out. ‘It’s crying out for a big occasion. It was built for that.’
Ava stared, her mind whirling at his words.
‘You’re serious?’
He couldn’t be.
Flynn came back to her, his gaze intense. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get my PA on it.’ He took her hands, his voice reassuring. ‘You won’t have to do much more than be your beautiful self and act as hostess.’
Ava curled her fingers around his, clutching hard. ‘Just a minute.’ She sucked in a shaky breath. ‘You’re talking as if we’ll be here. As if we’ve already decided to buy the place!’
‘That’s my surprise.’
For the first time she could remember Flynn’s slow smile didn’t melt her insides. Instead it concentrated her growing chill into an icy lump in the pit of her stomach.
‘I’ve bought it. It’s my special gift to you. I knew you’d be thrilled.’
* * *
Flynn stared down into clear eyes that outshone the sapphires he’d given her. Today they seemed a deeper blue, dark in contrast with skin that looked too pale.
It struck him that Ava wasn’t used to his pace of life. He’d been too caught up in his plans. He should have scheduled more nights at home so she could rest. That job of hers was wearing her out.
He was accustomed to working long hours and fitting in a gruelling round of social functions to further his business interests. Ava wasn’t. She looked peaky, with the hint of a tired smudge beneath her eyes. The sooner she stopped working the better.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’ve bought it for you. The sale was just finalised.’
Her fingers convulsed around his and he waited for her avid smile. Instead huge eyes met his.
Finally she spoke. ‘You bought it? But we were going house-hunting together.’
Impatience stirred. He’d just presented her with a multi-million-pound country estate and she made it sound as if he’d deprived her of something.
‘This is the perfect house for us.’ His grip tightened when she would have withdrawn her hand. ‘That’s why I snapped it up.’
