by Lucy Clark
‘And there’s more guilt piled on.’
‘Exactly.’ Flynn reached over and took Reggie’s hand in his. ‘I was also highly conscious of you. I kept wondering what you must be thinking.’ He looked down at her fingers, stroking them lightly. ‘I knew you probably hated me and I wouldn’t have blamed you for the atrocious way I’d behaved. You didn’t know that because of my social status, because of my family’s wealth, my picture would be splashed around on every glossy magazine in Australia.’
‘Actually…’ she nodded ‘…I did know about your wealth.’
He angled his head to the side, frowning a little. ‘You mean after I left the Caribbean?’
‘No. I knew exactly who you were from the moment we met.’
‘What?’
‘I knew you were the heir apparent to the Jamieson Corporation.’
‘You did?’ He looked down at her hand again, before meeting her eyes. ‘That wasn’t why you…?’
He trailed off, feeling stupid for even voicing the thought, but suddenly he recalled his father’s bitter words, the doubts that he had placed in Flynn’s head once upon a time. Caught up in the grief of losing his mother, breaking things off with Reggie and being pressured to marry a woman who was more a sister than a wife, Flynn’s temper had exploded when his father had refused to back down about the wedding reception.
‘If you go ahead with this, I will not attend,’ he’d told his father.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Flynn. Of course you’ll be there.’
‘No. I’ve only just buried my mother and I want time to grieve before we go splashing our fake happiness around the society pages.’
‘Fake happiness! Violet is a fine woman and she’ll make you a fine wife. She’s perfect for you, Flynn. She always has been.’
‘I think Violet might have something to say about that.’
‘Violet does whatever she’s told. She doesn’t have an original thought in her head. She’s been told her whole life that she’s going to marry you and she’s accepted it.’
‘Then she’s wrong.’ Flynn had shaken his head. ‘I love someone else, Dad.’ There. The words had finally been spoken and where Flynn had somehow thought they would make a difference, his father had flicked the statement aside with a wave of his hand as though he had been shooing away a pesky fly.
‘What do you know about love? Some gold-digging nurse you met in the Caribbean? A holiday romance? That’s not serious, Flynn. All women see when they look at you is dollar signs. They want your money, not you. That’s where Violet is different. She comes from money.’
‘And the fact that you and her father are merging your businesses has nothing at all to do with this.’
His father had spread his hands wide as though indicating he had nothing to hide. ‘Just seizing an opportunity, son.’
‘Sure.’ Flynn had stalked to the window and looked out at the extensive grounds. So green when everywhere else in the country had been brown due to drought. ‘She wasn’t a nurse and she wasn’t a gold-digger.’ He’d spoken the words more to himself than to his father, needing to reassure himself of the real reasons Reggie had admitted to loving him.
‘You think that, if it helps you sleep at night but, rest assured, if she knew you had money, that would be the only reason she latched onto you.’ His father had tapped his own chest. ‘I’ve just saved the company tens of thousands of dollars in settlement fees, not to mention protecting us from having our private affairs splashed all over the papers.’
‘Oh, but splashing this wedding reception all over the papers is fine?’
‘It’s controlled. Now, go and find Violet and thank your lucky stars you had a mother who was looking out for your best interests by finding you the right wife.’
Flynn exhaled slowly as he ran his fingers over Reggie’s hand once more, marvelling at her soft, silky skin. These were the hands that had performed intricate surgery on twelve-year-old Lola, the hands that had held his as they’d walked along the beach, the hands that had caressed his face before she’d whispered the words ‘I love you’ near his lips.
‘Are you trying to ask me if I fell in love with you because of your money?’ She all but spat the word at him.
‘Er…um…’
‘You don’t sound too sure about that, Flynn.’ Reggie pulled her hand from his and stood from the lounge, pacing up and down. ‘Do you know, it was because I knew you came from money that I tried to keep my distance, tried to keep the relationship between us strictly professional.’
‘You hugged me on my first day as a way of greeting. That wasn’t keeping a distance, Reg,’ he stated.
Reggie shrugged. ‘That’s how I greeted everyone. I didn’t want to call attention to the fact that I knew who you were by doing anything different.’
‘So you didn’t love me?’ Flynn felt compelled to asked as he watched her. It was difficult not to stand and drag her back into his arms because when Reggie got fired up like this, she was more dynamic, more beautiful, more alluring than ever.
‘Well, of course I loved you…back then. I did agree to marry you and, contrary to how you may do things, when I accept a marriage proposal, it’s because I’m in love with the man who’s asking.’ She glared at him, almost daring him to comment.
‘I was in love with you back then, too,’ he said. ‘But I’d been raised to do my duty to my family and…No.’ He shook his head again before standing and walking towards her, his hands open, palms up, indicating he had nothing to hide. She stopped pacing for a moment and looked at him. ‘No. No more excuses. I hurt you, Reggie and for that I apologise.’
She gave him a brief nod, showing she accepted his words, and while part of her wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and press her mouth to his, the other part was still simmering with repressed anger. Flynn came from money, from a wealthy and prestigious family, and she knew, firsthand, that those types of people couldn’t be trusted. Had he changed? Well, he was divorced from his pretty socialite wife, or so the tabloids had reported a while back, but who was to say that was actually true?
She angled her head, needing to check. ‘You are divorced from Violet, aren’t you?’
‘Yes.’
Reggie clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘But you still want to be sure that I didn’t chase after you for your money, don’t you? You’ll always be wondering, right?’ When he didn’t immediately answer she rolled her eyes and started to pace again.
‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear, Flynn, that I have never been interested in one single penny of your precious Jamieson Corporation millions. Not then and most definitely not now. Even accepting your help with relocating my neighbours, knowing the big corporation was footing the bill and no doubt using it as a tax dodge, was a big hurdle for me to personally overcome.’
‘I didn’t offer the corporation’s money to help those people, Reg,’ he quickly interjected. ‘I’m offering my own. The wealth, as you term it, that I have now has nothing to do with my father’s corporation. The money I have came to me after my mother’s death. My inheritance. I was cut out of my father’s will and, therefore, any claim to the corporation the moment I signed the divorce papers.’
That stopped her pacing. She stared at him in surprise. ‘You…you’ve walked away from your father?’
‘From his blackmail, from his controlling presence, from his world? Yes.’
‘Oh.’ She dropped her arms back to her sides. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘It’s been three years now.’
‘You’ve been divorced for three years?’
‘Officially, yes.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, the anger starting to dissipate. ‘And you didn’t…?’ She stopped. How could she possibly ask him if he’d thought of her during that time? Whether he’d tried to find her? Had he even really cared about her amidst all his other family politics?
‘Didn’t what?’ he prompted, but she shook her head and thankfully he drop
ped the subject. Flynn took a tentative step towards her and when she didn’t back away he tried another and another until he was standing before her. ‘It was a mistake for me to marry Violet.’
‘Yes.’
‘It was a mistake for me to treat you so badly.’
‘Yes.’
Flynn reached out and brushed his fingers through her gorgeous black locks. ‘Do you think we can try again?’
‘Try again…as in…what? What does that mean?’
‘It means…’ he reached down and linked his free hand with hers ‘…that we see if, after everything we’ve been through, whether we’re still…compatible.’ His tone was soft, smooth and inviting. Reggie could feel herself beginning to crumble, could feel the walls she so desperately wanted to keep in place begin to weaken, and when he bent his head and brushed a soft and tantalising kiss across her cheek, her eyelids fluttered closed and she breathed in the scent of him.
Good heavens. The man smelled fantastic. How did he do that after such a busy and stressful day?
‘I don’t…’ She stopped and swallowed over the dryness of her throat. ‘I don’t know, Flynn.’
‘Why? Because I hurt you before?’ He brushed a kiss to her other cheek, lingering a little longer.
‘Mmm-hmm,’ she sighed, parting her lips to allow the pent-up air to escape.
‘Do you think you can trust me again?’ He whispered the words near her mouth, keeping such a marginal distance that she started to yearn for his lips to be on hers once more. From their very first kiss to their very last, his mouth had always fitted hers perfectly, as though they’d been made for each other. ‘Do you?’
‘I don’t know.’ The whispered words were barely audible and Flynn drew back slightly. He cupped her face with one hand and brushed his thumb over her parted lips. She gasped with surprised delight, opening her eyes to stare into his. ‘The attraction is clearly alive and well.’
‘Yes.’
‘And I know you trust me as far as work is concerned.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you know I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to so I can safely say that you can trust me with your honour.’
‘Yes.’
‘So what is it, Reggie? What is it that is holding you back from giving me…giving us another chance?’
Reggie bit her lip, the intrusive thoughts from her past bursting forth into her mind at his question. Why couldn’t she give him another chance? ‘Because you’re wealthy and I don’t trust wealthy people.’
‘What?’ He eased back, dropping his hand to her shoulder. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Wealth corrupts. Even the nicest, strongest people. It corrupts them.’
‘And you know this how? Because of me being unable to stand up to my father all those years ago?’
‘No. This has nothing to do with you, Flynn. It does, however, have everything to do with me.’
‘You? You’ve been hurt by wealthy people before?’
Reggie couldn’t believe the way her repressed memories, ones she’d carefully locked away in a mental box with ‘Do Not Touch’ written all over it, continued to flood her mind. Her anxiety and agitation started to increase and she turned away from Flynn, needing distance, needing space. She sucked in a breath and then another one, trying not to hyperventilate while she desperately searched for her self-control. She breathed out, unable to believe the fear rising within her, making her throat go dry, almost choking her. Flynn frowned, noting the paleness of her complexion.
‘Reg?’ She could hear the concern in his voice.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, knowing she needed to say these words to Flynn. It was true that she would love to have another chance with him and where all those years ago she’d been unable to talk about her past, unable to open up to him and tell him the disgusting things that had happened to her, she knew if there was ever any hope of any sort of future for herself and Flynn, she had to tell him the truth.
‘I can’t say it.’ The words were a whisper and when he crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders, coaxing her to look at him, all she could do was close her eyes and shake her head vehemently.
‘It’s all right, Reggie. Whatever you have to say, I’m here.’ He’d never seen her like this before, so small and childlike. The Reggie he’d always known had been larger than life, vibrant, funny, with the most infectious laugh. ‘You’re starting to really worry me,’ he said, and it was then, when she heard the tremor in his voice, that she knew she had to do this.
She swallowed again and opened her eyes. As she lifted her chin so she could meet Flynn’s gaze, her heart was pounding furiously in her chest.
‘Easy. Gently. It’s all right, Reg. I’m here. Right here. Nothing you can say will change that.’
‘You haven’t heard what it is I have to say.’
‘Trust me, Reg.’ He brushed a feather-light kiss across her lips, not to break the mood or for any romantic reason but rather to give her courage. ‘Please?’
Reggie breathed out again and nodded, his hands on her shoulders helping to calm her anxious brain. ‘OK.’ She breathed out, unable to believe she was really going to open that hateful box and expose herself, her inner self, to Flynn.
‘All those years ago, when we first met, I knew who you were because I was raised in Melbourne, not far from where you lived.’
‘What?’ It had clearly been the last thing he’d expected her to say.
‘I hate wealthy people because…my parents were wealthy. In fact, my father knew your father.’
‘What?’ She’d clearly stunned him.
‘When I turned eighteen I changed my name by deed poll to Regina Smith.’
‘Why?’ Flynn was starting to get a bad feeling in his stomach at what she was saying. ‘What name were you christened with?’
She forced calmness into her words as she spoke. ‘My name was…Regina Anne Catherine Elizabeth Fox-Wallington.’
‘Fox-Wallington?’ He whispered the surname with incredulity and disbelief.
‘I see you remember my family well.’
‘You’re that Regina? The young girl who was abused by her parents?’
She forced herself to keep her chin up, to keep looking into his eyes, seeing his own disbelief at what she was saying. ‘Yes,’ she confirmed. ‘I’m that Regina.’
CHAPTER NINE
‘OH, REG.’ FLYNN shook his head, anguish in his voice. ‘I remember. It was in the papers, on the news. They’d been abusing you for years. Physically as well as emotionally.’
Strangely enough, now that she’d come this far, now that she’d confessed the secret of her real identity to Flynn, the pressure of the anxiety started to dissipate. She cleared her throat, amazed at how normal her voice sounded when she spoke. ‘For years my parents made sure their private physician looked after me, treating my wounds, isolating me when they took longer to heal than expected.’
‘What?’
‘Wealth corrupts. That doctor had no problem with being paid off and when the truth finally came out, he had the gall to state that he would often suggest they send me to another boarding school in order to save me from their wrath. I was nothing but a punching bag to my father and my mother would slap me around and then put her cigarettes out on me. The physician was struck off the register and is doing gaol time.’
‘Oh, Reg.’ Tears came into Flynn’s eyes as she recounted the events with little to no emotion. It was a defence mechanism, he knew that, but, still, the traumas she must have endured. ‘How did you finally managed to bring it all to light?’
‘The last school they sent me to, when I was sixteen, was rife with bullies and, quite frankly, by then I’d had enough of being everyone’s punching bag. I’d tried to talk to my teachers at school, to counsellors, but no one would ever believe that the great and powerful Walter Fox-Wallington would ever hit his own child.
‘As I was treated by their private doctor, there were no medical records
of my injuries, of my broken bones, of my extensive bruising—no proof—so why would anyone believe me? As far as the teachers and counsellors were concerned, I was a spoiled and wealthy brat who was clearly troubled and who loved to make up stories about her parents.
‘Besides, if they actually did find the courage to question my parents, which a few of them did, my father would pull his financial support from the school or slap a law suit on anyone who dared question his word.’ Reggie shrugged both her shoulders, Flynn’s hands rising and falling with the action. ‘You can do anything with money. At least, that was my father’s motto and one he used to spit at me every time he “donated” enormous sums of money in order to keep people quiet.’
‘But surely someone knew he was corrupt?’
‘I’m sure plenty of people did but blackmail, self-preservation and the power of wealth go a long way to buying silence. Besides, he’d simply smile brightly and tell people I was a delusional teenager, a spoiled brat with a grudge against her parents.’
‘So…how did you…escape that life?’ He was agog at what she was saying.
‘I ran away from boarding school. I stowed away on a goods train and ended up in Sydney. There, I found a drop-in centre and a solicitor, Elika, who wasn’t afraid to take the case on. Pro bono, of course.’
Flynn was still stunned as he stared down into her face. She’d been through so much and his heart ached for her. No wonder she hated people with money. She had good reason to. ‘I remember the story breaking.’ His words were soft. ‘I remember my father doing everything he could to distance himself from the Fox-Wallington fiasco, as he termed it. He also pulled any and all investments he had in your father’s companies.’
‘So he wasn’t as much concerned with what had happened but rather with protecting himself.’
Flynn shrugged. ‘Everything was business to him. Even my mother and myself, although my mother knew what sort of life she was signing up for when she married him.’
