by Annie West
Sarah nodded, frowning. ‘He said it was his way of making up for the fact you wouldn’t be working with us. Obviously he values you highly.’
* * *
‘Values you highly.’
Ava quashed the bitter laugh as she rammed the last of her clothes—her old clothes, not the ones Flynn had bought her—into a suitcase. The one she’d brought with her when they married.
A shudder ripped through her at the memory of Flynn carrying her over the threshold here in the London apartment. She the blushing bride and he...
She rammed the case shut and flicked the lock, hauling it off the bed and out to the foyer. The battered case looked out of place against the expensive furnishings.
She didn’t belong here.
Desolation waited to devour her, if she let it. Already it gnawed at her insides.
Anger was by far the easier option.
She stalked back to the bedroom. What else did she need? Most of her things were at Frayne Hall, but she couldn’t go back there.
Bile rose and Ava gagged, grabbing the doorjamb for support. It wasn’t just Sarah’s news about Flynn’s dealings with the charity where she’d worked. That had been only the start. After Sarah’s bombshell Ava had done some digging and had been sickened at what she’d discovered.
It was amazing what some well-placed phone calls achieved.
If only she’d made them months ago!
Flynn hadn’t hidden his tracks well. Why should he? He knew she was besotted, always accepting what he did at face value. Always making excuses for his managing ways.
What a fool!
Setting her jaw, Ava snatched up her coat and bag, trying to ignore the pain threatening to consume her.
There was nothing else of hers here. The bedroom looked as barren as the day she’d arrived.
As barren as her aching heart.
As barren as Flynn’s black, conniving soul.
She spun on her heel, forcing herself to concentrate on what came next: a taxi, a room for the night—anything but facing the disaster her life had become.
‘Ava?’ A tall figure filled the doorway. ‘What’s that suitcase in the foyer?’
She slammed to a halt, staring. That hint of concern wrinkling his brow...as if he cared.
Except how could she believe that now?
For an instant, caught in surprise and denial, Ava wanted to believe what she’d learned wasn’t true. That Flynn hadn’t duped her. That he really loved her.
He stepped through the door and her body reacted inevitably, conditioned to soften with yearning. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, hating that her first instinct still was to rush into his arms.
‘Ava! Talk to me.’
She opened her eyes as he strode towards her.
‘Don’t!’ Instinctively she stepped back, her arm out to ward him off.
He halted mid-stride, dark eyebrows slashing down. ‘What is it? Brayson? Has he bothered you?’
Ava laughed, the sound short and harsh. The man who’d once loomed like a spectre meant less than nothing after what she’d discovered.
‘No.’ Her voice grated. ‘Not Brayson.’ She wished he were the sum total of her worries.
‘Then what?’
Ava lifted her chin, trying to size up the man who’d turned her life on its head. But he looked the same as ever. Clever, gorgeous, caring.
Caring! Her stomach did a sickening loop the loop.
‘How about the fact that you cost me my job?’ Her voice rose. ‘You deliberately got me sacked!’
Flynn blanched.
‘Nothing to say, Mr Marshall?’ Her voice gave a betraying wobble. Even now she’d hoped that he’d deny it. That there was some other explanation. But that blank stare, that waiting tension, told their own story.
Her stomach plunged, leaving her nauseous with disappointment. He’d betrayed her.
‘You don’t deny it.’ Her tone was flat but she kept her chin tilted, refusing to reveal how deeply that cut.
Flynn paced forward a step and Ava backed away, her palm out at arm’s length.
Was that hurt in his eyes?
How could she think it? She was done projecting what she wanted to see into Flynn’s face and actions. From now on she’d demand the truth.
‘That job was draining you.’ He spread his arms, as if to show he’d had no ulterior motive. ‘I did it for the best.’
‘You were looking after me?’ She couldn’t believe this.
‘That’s right. I was concerned for you.’
‘How dare you?’ Fury such as she hadn’t experienced in seven years gushed in her bloodstream. ‘How can you tell me you acted for my own good?’ Ava crossed her arms over her heaving chest. ‘You who work longer hours than any sane person should.’
Of all the patronising claptrap!
‘I look after me. I decide where I work.’ She shook her head. ‘You lied to them about me wanting to go.’
‘I didn’t lie. I merely mentioned we had plans to move out of London and start a family. I offered a donation to the cause.’
‘Don’t be disingenuous.’ Ava threw up her arms. ‘You lied to the CEO. Worse, you lied to me.’
Pain crushed her chest. She’d actually been grateful to have such a supportive husband during that difficult, disappointing time when she’d lost her job. Tears of anger burned her eyes and she blinked them back.
‘I haven’t lied to you, Ava.’
Flynn’s stiff features told her he wasn’t happy. Tough.
‘You lied by omission. By insinuation. All that time you were comforting me you’d engineered it.’ She paced away, unable to stand still. Every inch of her ached. Her fingers dug into her arms like talons, digging for bone. ‘How do you think I feel, knowing that behind my back you were pulling strings, laughing at me?’
‘I’ve never laughed at you.’
His voice ground hard and low. It echoed right to her core, resonating in ways that made her weak. That, even more than the news of his deception, fuelled her ire.
Ava reached the window and spun round.
Once she’d believed she could read Flynn. Now she knew better. He only let her see what he wanted.
She drew a steadying breath. ‘You managed my life. You took control of things that were mine to decide. How do you think that feels?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I spent my first seventeen years having every aspect of my life controlled by a man who didn’t give a damn what I wanted or how I felt. I thought I’d escaped that.’
Ava swallowed the searing knot in her throat.
She thought she’d found true love.
Instead she’d been manipulated by a maestro.
Flynn’s deviousness surpassed even her father’s.
He hadn’t demanded. Oh, no, he’d used her love for him to bend her to his will.
She gagged, bending double.
‘Ava.’
He stepped close and she stiffened, straightening.
‘I’m sorry. It was a mistake.’ Dark eyes searched hers. ‘I knew as soon as I’d done it. But then it was too late. You don’t know how much I’ve regretted it.’
‘Regretted I’d find out, more like.’
His expression told her she’d hit on the truth.
Pain ripped razor-sharp claws through her, tearing deep. She hunched again, arms tight across her torso to hold in the hurt. For a moment she imagined distress in Flynn’s dark eyes. How ludicrous was that? He was an expert at appearing to care, but it was a sham.
‘It wasn’t just the job, was it?’ By sheer willpower Ava kept the words even. ‘If it had been only that—some outdated paternalistic idea that you were protecting me—I might even try to understand.’
S
he paused, watching his gaze sharpen.
A shudder racked her. The contentment and fulfilment she’d found so recently with Flynn were a mirage. Her feelings, her love, were grounded on a cruel lie.
That cut deepest. All this time she’d believed him to be the one man she could trust...
‘It was all a hoax, wasn’t it?’ Hurt chased anger in a furious, boiling brew. ‘You never cared for me.’
Flynn stepped in but she refused to back up, merely tilting her chin, her gaze scornful.
‘No. You’re wrong, Ava. I—’
‘Don’t lie to me, Flynn. I’m sick of it. You’ve been lying from the first.’ She hitched a breath. ‘I’ve done some checking, you see. I know more than you think.’
He stilled, his expression watchful.
‘You’ve been buying those portraits of my family for years. Years, Flynn—not just since our wedding.’
That revelation had given her the creeps. It was one thing for her husband to buy a painting of Frayne Hall before they’d met again, since he’d grown up on the estate too. But to buy pictures of her ancestors? As if he were already planning for their future together?
‘Nothing to say?’ She swallowed and forced herself to continue. ‘Then there’s the Hall itself. It wasn’t up for sale, like you pretended. You approached the owner. I dread to think what inflated offer you made to convince him to sell.’
A flicker in Flynn’s dark eyes was the only animation in his face. That and the tiny pulsing throb at his throat.
‘I can afford it. I knew you’d like living there. It was in your mother’s family for centuries, until your father’s business collapsed.’
Ava leaned forward, jabbing a finger into his dark red tie. ‘But when did you offer to buy it? After our wedding? Or...’ She paused. ‘Or could it be you made an offer before that? Before Prague? Before Paris, even?’
Flynn shrugged. ‘Does it matter? It’s a wonderful old place—perfect for us.’
The front of the man stole her breath. ‘It matters! You let me think you’d bought it because of me. You talked about us finding a home together, but all the time it was the place you wanted.’
‘You like it too. Admit it. You’ve enjoyed being with me at Frayne Hall.’
Ava squeezed her eyes shut. The trouble was he was close to the truth. Living with Flynn at the Hall these past weeks had been as close to bliss as she’d ever come. Not because of their surroundings but because she’d felt they’d finally achieved the happiness she’d sought so long.
A happiness built on deception.
‘Don’t twist this.’ Her eyes snapped open. ‘You began negotiations to buy it long before we met in Paris. You began sourcing my family portraits before you met me. You wanted Frayne Hall, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted a chatelaine to go with it, didn’t you? A Frayne to keep the family connection alive. And I fitted the bill. I was a Frayne by blood, if not by name, and you targeted me—just like you targeted all those things you wanted to acquire.’
Ava sucked her breath in so hard she couldn’t speak. She was crumbling inside, turning brittle and shattering little by little.
Still he said nothing, just watched her.
What had she expected? Some excuse?
There was no excuse for what he’d done.
‘I chatted with your PA today. We’ve become quite friendly lately.’
That got a reaction. Flynn’s brows shot up.
‘I asked for details of the place you’d stayed in Paris. Said I wanted to surprise you.’
Her smile was tight and painful. It was a surprise all right—just not a romantic weekend away, as his PA had assumed.
‘Imagine how I felt when I discovered she’d booked your trip the day after I booked mine.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘And instead of arranging accommodation for a mere two days, as you’d led me to believe, your PA booked the Paris hotel for a whole week—the exact length of my stay. And—surprise, surprise—she also booked your Prague hotel at the same time. Just as if you already knew my itinerary.’
Ava stared into impenetrable eyes and her fury boiled over. She jabbed at his tie again.
‘You planned it all. You planned to stay as long as I did. That meeting on the boat—it wasn’t a coincidence. You engineered it.’
His fingers closed around her shaking hand. ‘Now, Ava—’
‘Don’t you “Now, Ava” me! Just admit it.’ She tried and failed to free her hand.
‘I wanted time to get to know you. The business meetings I had in Paris were real, but, yes...’ He drew a slow breath. ‘I’d planned to stay on and spend time with you afterwards.’
Ava shook her head. ‘But you didn’t even know me!’
‘Of course I knew you. I watched you grow up.’
‘That’s not the same as knowing me, Flynn.’ Even now Ava could scarcely believe what he’d done. ‘No sane man plans his vacation to be with a woman he hasn’t seen in seven years.’ Especially a workaholic like Flynn, who found it hard taking time off. ‘Not without an ulterior motive.’
The thought of his ulterior motive churned her empty stomach. She tried again to tug her hand loose.
‘You plotted to meet me.’ That chilled her. ‘You stalked me, planned to stay in the same cities, oh-so-accidentally bumped into me on that cruise.’
‘I wanted to get to know you again, Ava. I knew we’d be perfect together.’
His fingers firmed around her hand. They felt ridiculously reassuring.
The realisation scared her.
This time she managed to wrench her hand away.
‘There’s that word again. Perfect.’ She spat it out, the taste of it rancid. ‘There’s nothing perfect about us, Flynn. It was all an illusion.’ She choked, her throat convulsing on the word, but forced herself to go on. ‘You connived to meet me. What did you do? Set someone to check my movements? To vet that I was suitable?’
A flush tinted his high cheekbones and pain stabbed her.
‘It was unconventional, I admit, but—’
‘Unconventional?’ Her voice rose. ‘It was a complete and utter invasion of my privacy. You lied to me again and again.’
‘I’m sorry.’
The words dropped into the heaving silence. He looked stiff, uncomfortable.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAZED, AVA STARED up at the man she’d thought she knew. ‘You didn’t mean to hurt me?’
It was too much. She tottered to a chair and sank into it, her bones too brittle to support her.
‘How could you think you wouldn’t hurt me?’ She felt as if she was being ripped apart. ‘I can’t believe what you’ve done.’
To her relief, Flynn didn’t approach. Finally it must have sunk in that she didn’t want his touch. She shivered, realising how addicted she’d become to his caresses. She snapped her teeth shut to stop them chattering.
‘I knew I could make you happy.’
Even now it wasn’t repentance she heard in his voice, but certainty.
‘How? By becoming my father? By using me as he did?’
‘No!’
At last the mask cracked. Raw emotion turned Flynn’s eyes from impenetrable to burning hot. Deep grooves lined his cheeks. He spun on his foot, marching across to the window and staring out for long seconds. When he turned back his look was bleak.
‘I never wanted to become your father. Never that. But I wanted what he’d had.’
‘I see.’
Through a cushion of shock she realised he hadn’t denied her accusations. That should have shattered her. Some time soon, she knew, she’d fall apart. Ava prayed it wouldn’t be in front of him.
‘You wanted an aristocratic wife and a big old house and lots of money.�
�
Flynn shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, his expression bleak. With his feet planted wide and his broad shoulders outlined against the light he looked like some sexy corporate raider. Except it wasn’t some far-off company he’d plundered. It was her life.
Ava shivered, huddling in on herself for warmth.
‘I wanted the ability to control my life.’
‘By stealing mine?’
Pain etched his features. Ava told herself she’d imagined it. She was the one hurting.
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘Then what was it like?’ Nothing he said would make her forgive him, but she needed to understand how he could have used her so callously.
Flynn’s gaze shifted. ‘All my life I knew what it was to be at someone else’s mercy. My parents worked hard but money was tight, especially when Dad got sick. They dreamed of moving off the estate into a place of their own. Instead they were wholly dependent on your family for their income and the roof over our heads.’
His mouth tilted in a humourless smile.
‘Your father didn’t spend money on tenants’ cottages, even when he drove a Rolls-Royce. Our quaint little cottage was damp, uninsulated, with antiquated plumbing and wiring that made it a potential death trap.’
His eyes locked with hers and the banked energy in his stare blasted through her cushion of shock.
‘It didn’t matter how hard they worked, how many hours they put in, they couldn’t get ahead. And the hours weren’t reasonable.’ He shook his head. ‘Do you know how many nights my mother worked, preparing for those big house parties?’
Ava could guess. Everything had had to be perfect.
‘Night after night she’d drag herself home after midnight. And she’d regularly be up early to cater for breakfast.’
He paused, scowling.
‘My father was ill for a long time and his income dried up while the bills mounted. By the time he was hospitalised we were dependent on my mother’s wage and anything I could scrounge from odd jobs.’
His mouth tightened to a grim line, and despite herself Ava found herself sympathising. She’d never had to worry about money till she’d struck out on her own, and then she’d been single and healthy. She’d also been extremely fortunate to get a job so quickly at the charity.
