Illusions of Love

by Michelle Betham

  A white hot pain crashed through her as she felt his release, a pain that almost made her scream out for him, a pain so beautiful she wanted to feel it forever as it rocked her entire body, every inch of her tingling as it spread right through her, until it finally subsided, leaving both of them exhausted.

  ‘Jesus, Dominic…’ India breathed as he rolled over onto his back, lying beside her, taking her hand, ‘… what the hell was that?’

  He smiled, turning onto his side so he could look at her, his eyes once more falling on those perfect breasts as they continued to rise and fall, her breathing slowly returning to normal. ‘I’d call it amazing sex. What would you call it?’

  She turned her head to face him, smiling too, squeezing his hand. ‘Yeah. I’d say that pretty much described it.’ She ran a hand down between her breasts, aware that his eyes were following her as she did so. ‘I’m gonna have to have another shower now.’ She looked at him. ‘You did this.’

  ‘Want me to help you get cleaned up?’

  She laughed, turning onto her side too so they faced each other, kissing him slowly, not really wanting to leave the bedroom if the truth be told. She wasn’t in the mood for the media frenzy that was still following them around; she wasn’t in the mood to face press and paparazzi, not today. She wasn’t in the mood to face Michael just after she’d had incredible sex with his son. Today she just felt like staying right here, with Dominic, both of them naked with nothing to do but explore each other and work out just what it was that was happening here. Because she still wasn’t all that sure.

  ‘Well, showering together does preserve water, I suppose…’ India said quietly, running her fingers gently over his rough, unshaven chin.

  ‘There you go then. We can have sex and help the environment,’ Dominic smirked, stroking the curve of her waist, her hips, resting his hand on her thigh.

  ‘Who said anything about having sex?’ India smiled, looking into his handsome face, those eyes so like Michael’s staring back at her, but she was determined she could get past that. She had to. She had to try and get past that.

  ‘You really think I can take a shower with you, watching that incredible body of yours all soaped up and wet… You really think I can do that and not want to fuck you?’ He took her hand and moved it down so it touched him. ‘I mean, I’m already hard just thinking about it.’

  She smiled again, letting her fingers run lightly up and down him, making him groan out loud as she pushed him onto his back, climbing astride him. ‘I don’t think we’re even gonna make it to the shower, handsome…’ She carefully guided him back inside her, lowering herself down onto him as he closed his eyes and moaned louder because she was gripping him like a vice, holding onto him like something he’d never felt before, so tight it almost hurt. ‘Do you?’

  No, he didn’t. But he was quite happy to stay right where he was because he was being given the ride of his fucking life by a living, breathing fantasy. A woman he was all too aware his father wanted back. But she was going nowhere. India Walsh was his now, he was making sure of that. And daddy was just going to have to get used to it.

  ***

  Michael wasn’t expecting anyone. He never really got visitors, unless you counted Vince who made regular visits to his villa in vain attempts to try and get him to go out for a drink or play some Blackjack in the casino. But Michael wasn’t one for playing. All work suited him just fine right now. He had a movie to finish, and that was proving harder work than even he had anticipated. But then, he hadn’t banked on the speed bump that was his long-lost son turning up. Turning up and taking India from him, from right underneath his nose. How the hell had that happened?

  He walked to the door, opening it without looking up; his concentration was focused on yet another story in yet another magazine about the complicated set-up that was his life. But these stories were an everyday occurrence now, he was almost numb to them.

  ‘Well, this isn’t much of a welcome, is it?’

  He looked up at the sound of her voice, almost dropping the magazine. ‘Layla! I… I…’

  ‘Wasn’t expecting to see me? No, I don’t suppose you were. In fact, everyone seems surprised to see me.’

  ‘Everyone? Who… who else knows you’re here?’ he asked, still standing in the open doorway.

  ‘I saw Kenny last night, and Vince. Oh, and I bumped into India on her way to make-up just now.’

  Michael looked at her. ‘You’ve seen India?’

  Layla stared back. ‘Yeah. And she is looking good, Michael!’

  Michael tried to give her a smile that said he knew she was, and he didn’t really care anymore, but Layla knew him better than that.

  ‘Oh, come on, Michael. She was holding hands with Dominic MacDonald, looking for all the world like a woman who was in the throes of falling head-over-heels in lust, and I have to say, I can’t really blame her. He’s one handsome son-of-a-bitch.’ She fixed Michael with a look. ‘Although, I’m sure his mom was a totally lovely woman.’ She pushed her way past him into the villa. ‘India’s too busy with your son to be concerned with you anymore, Michael.’

  Michael hurriedly closed the door and followed her, her undoubtedly expensive four-inch heels click-clacking their way across the marble-floored hallway as she made her way through to the living room. ‘What are you doing here, Layla?’

  She swung round to look at him. ‘What am I doing here? Well, since you didn’t really have the courtesy to end things properly between us before you left L.A. I just had to assume that our life together was over. Am I right?’

  He sighed, sitting down on the arm of a nearby chair, throwing the magazine down, watching as it fell open on a page which carried a photograph of India snuggling into Dominic on the movie set – his movie set – Dominic’s arms holding her tight as they smiled at each other.

  ‘Michael…?’

  He looked up at Layla. ‘I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you.’

  ‘No. I didn’t.’ She walked around the room, picking up pictures of Ethan that Michael had scattered around the place in an attempt to try and make his temporary accommodation feel more like home. Family photos. And a lot of them were not only of Ethan, there were also plenty of pictures of his incredibly beautiful mother, too.

  Putting a particularly happy photograph of India and Michael in happier times – cuddling their little boy as a baby – back down onto the sideboard, she turned to face Michael again. ‘But I accepted it, Michael. I accepted that it was over and I tried to move on. Me and Kenny even got back together for a short time.’

  ‘Kenny? You slept with Kenny Ross?’

  She folded her arms. ‘What did you expect me to do? Live like a nun? You left me in limbo, Michael, remember? I wasn’t going to just put my life on hold while you made some ridiculous attempt to try and win India back.’

  ‘I haven’t been trying to…’

  ‘Oh, save it, Michael. Of course that’s what you were trying to do. Until Dominic MacDonald got in the way.’ She walked over to him. ‘So, you’ve got one hot young movie star for a son, huh? Looks like Michael Walsh has skeletons in the closet even he didn’t know about. Who’d’ve thought?’

  Michael got up, walking into the kitchen, but Layla was right behind him.

  ‘This must be quite a difficult time for you,’ she said, leaning back against the kitchen’s breakfast bar, watching as Michael busied himself making coffee. ‘I mean, there you are, trying to win back your ex-wife when the kid you never knew you had was right under your nose, taking her away from you before you’d even had the chance to get close.’

  ‘I was close,’ Michael murmured, spooning coffee into the machine before swinging round to look at her. ‘When we first arrived here in Vegas I was getting close to her. Things were okay, y’know? We were good.’

  ‘And then he turned up.’

  Michael looked down at the ground, pushing a hand through his hair.

  ‘Look, Michael, I didn’t
come here to hurt you, really, I didn’t.’ Layla walked over to him, taking his hand, and he looked up at her. ‘I was hurting when you left L.A. though, do you understand that? I was confused and upset, and then all of that turned into some ridiculous anger that did nothing but drain every ounce of energy I had left because I knew that you couldn’t carry on our relationship because you still wanted India back. It was obvious. And I thought Kenny might be a distraction, y’know? Something to take my mind off things, but in the end I had to walk away from that because I just knew that he was harbouring some notion that maybe he was still in love with India too…’

  ‘Kenny’s still in love with India?’ Michael asked, looking at Layla through narrowed eyes.

  ‘Kenny’s always been in love with India. He’ll be in love with India forever, any idiot knows that.’

  For once Michael felt as though he and Kenny finally had something in common. Because he was going to be in love with her forever too, whether he liked it or not.

  ‘I guess what I’m trying to say is…’

  ‘Why are you here, Layla? I mean, is there a reason?’

  She kept hold of his hand and he made no attempt to let go. ‘I know you wanted her back, Michael. I know that, and I accepted that, and if you and India had got back together I would have accepted that too. Really, I would have. But…’ She shrugged, ‘… then came Dominic MacDonald. He walked into her life – into both your lives – and she fell for him. Even after the shit hit the fan, Michael, she’s still with him. You have to face up to that. You’re too late.’

  Michael looked into her eyes, saying nothing. He had nothing to say.

  Layla rubbed his knuckles with her thumb. ‘I know you still love her, Michael.’ She looked up into his eyes. Blue, blue eyes that she could never fully trust, but she could handle that. ‘But, the thing is, I still love you. God help me… I still love you. And I want you back. You can’t have her, but you can have me. So, what do you say, Michael?’

  ***

  ‘I shouldn’t have gone to see him,’ Charley sighed, shoving a pile of freshly washed black towels into a cupboard. ‘I’ve made things worse, I know I have.’

  Kenny watched as she ran around the large and spacious store cupboard of Charley’s @ The Amber Palace, trying to keep herself busy, but it was more than obvious that it wasn’t really working.

  Charley stopped what she was doing for a second and looked at Kenny. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say “I told you so”?’

  Kenny shrugged, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black jeans. ‘What would be the point in that? You’ve just said yourself, you shouldn’t have gone to see him. But I’m just as much to blame. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into finding out where he was.’

  Charley sighed again, beginning to line up trade-sized bottles of shampoo that didn’t really need sorting. ‘Shit!’ She swung round and leant back against the shelf unit, pushing a hand through her long, dark, naturally curly hair, staring up at the ceiling. ‘What the fuck have I done?’

  Kenny walked over to her. ‘What exactly did he say, Charley?’

  She looked at him, scrunching up her eyes and nose as she tried to remember a meeting she’d rather put out of her mind forever. The stench of that seedy office still stuck in her nostrils, the sight of that evil man so close to her something she just couldn’t forget. ‘He said… he said something about hurting everyone else. I asked him how he could possibly hurt me any more than he already had done, and he said… he said something about hurting all the others… Kenny, I’m scared. After what happened with Terry… What does he mean, Kenny?’

  Kenny had no idea. But they were dealing with Jimmy Cash here, so whatever he meant it wasn’t going to be good.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he replied, almost dismissively, because he was still finding it hard to believe they were in this mess all over again. ‘I really don’t know. But you need to talk to Vince, honey. You’ve got to let him know what you’ve done…’

  ‘No, Kenny, I can’t do that. He’ll go ballistic!’

  ‘Yeah, and with good right, don’t you think? He was dealing with it…’

  ‘Jesus, come on, Kenny! He was never going to be able to “deal” with a man like Jimmy Cash. Not even Vince can manage that.’

  Kenny watched as she resumed her pointless tidying-up of a more than well-ordered store cupboard. If he was concerned about the situation they were fast getting into then she was ten times more nervous about it, and probably with good cause. Not a day went by when her name wasn’t in the press, when new and more damaging photographs of her weren’t being published, and he knew that she was exhausted from the constant fighting she had to do in order to try and keep that unwelcome past from ruining her future.

  ‘Where’s Vince right now?’ Kenny asked.

  ‘He’s in L.A.’ Charley replied without turning round, busying herself folding more towels. ‘There are things that need sorting out at the Beverly Hills salon…’ She finally turned round to face Kenny, and he felt his heart sink as he noticed her eyes filled with frightened tears. Frustrated tears. ‘I just haven’t got the fucking strength, Kenny. I haven’t got the strength to deal with it all right now.’

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him as she started setting those tears free, crying it all out, and Kenny didn’t know what to say. What could he say? That it was all going to be alright? That it would all eventually sort itself out? That wasn’t true, so he couldn’t tell her that. She didn’t need false promises and pretend hope. Because nobody was entirely sure just what it was they were dealing with here. Nobody was sure at all.

  CHAPTER 31

  ‘You can’t just go barging on in there, Reece, not with the amount of press and paparazzi still hanging around.’

  ‘So, you tell me that Michael Walsh raped my daughter – something she didn’t feel she could tell me…’

  ‘For good reason, Reece.’

  ‘Oh, you think so? You think it was for the best that she kept something so important from me for all these years?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I do, alright? Because if she’d told you, you’d have reacted exactly like this, going in there all guns blazing…’

  ‘And what the hell do you expect me to do, Martha? Sit back and forget what you’ve just told me? I’m her father. She should have come to me…’

  ‘She dealt with it in a way she felt was best, Reece. She put Ethan first, she did everything she could to make sure that little boy still had a dad... She dealt with it.’

  ‘She dealt with it? You really think that, do you? Shit!’ He pushed a hand through his hair, turning away from her for a second as he began to pace the floor. ‘Everything makes so much more sense now, y’know?’ He turned back to face Martha, trying really hard to keep his feelings under control but it was becoming increasingly difficult. ‘All those years she spent shutting him out of her life, then everything that happened after she saw him again, after all that time… It all suddenly makes sense. And I had no fucking idea…’

  ‘She did it to protect you, Reece. And to protect Ethan, especially to protect Ethan, you have to know that.’

  He leant back against the wall, briefly staring up at the ceiling, sighing heavily as he looked at his wife. Martha’s face was full of anxiety and he knew that was because she’d be worried about what he might do next, concerned about how he must be feeling after hearing news that would knock any father for six. ‘She never dealt with it at all, Martha. She might think she has, but she hasn’t. Now it’s so obvious why her marriage to Joseph didn’t work out… Jesus! And now she’s involved with Michael’s fucking son!’

  ‘Reece, baby, come on. None of this is Dominic’s fault. He had no idea Michael was his father until a few months ago, and he has no idea what Michael did to India.’

  ‘She hasn’t told him?’

  Martha shook her head.

  ‘But she told Kenny, am I right?’

  ‘And JJ,’ Martha whispered.

&nbs
p; Reece looked down at the ground. He wasn’t surprised. He’d always known those two had been privy to information that he never had been. ‘I can’t let this go, Martha.’

  He felt her touch his arm and he looked up, tears suddenly filling his eyes.

  ‘He raped my baby. He did that to her… How am I supposed to deal with that?’

  Martha took his hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I don’t know, my darling. But for India’s sake you have to think about this, you have to think about her…’

  Reece shook his head, fresh anger rising up inside him. ‘No. No, I need to talk to him…’

  ‘Reece!’

  But it was no good. Michael Walsh had hurt his daughter in a way even Reece hadn’t thought possible, and he couldn’t just sit around and let that go. Someone had to pay for that, and Reece was determined that someone wouldn’t be India.

  ***

  Vince was tired. He was tired, and he was missing Vegas. Missing Charley. Missing Lily, his gorgeous little girl who was just the perfect mix of himself and his beautiful English wife. A little girl who was, thankfully, far too young to understand just what the hell was going on in her mom’s life right now.

  He’d spent the past few days trying to smooth things over at the Beverly Hills branch of Charley’s because poor Saskia just hadn’t been able to deal with everything by herself. But Charley wasn’t really in the position to come back to L.A. and sort things out, not when a lot of their more well-heeled clients seemed to think that she was the problem.

  As far as their celebrity clientele were concerned, however, nothing had changed there. In fact, Saskia had informed him that, if anything, the list of celebrities wishing to make Charley’s their salon of choice had almost doubled. It was the rich women of Beverly Hills and Bel Air that appeared to have the biggest problem with having their hair styled by an ex-porn star. Although, Vince suspected, that was probably because, for a lot of them, it was digging up pasts that some may consider just a little too close to home. Not all of the rich and beautiful housewives who passed through Charley’s doors had been born into the lifestyle they were now very much accustomed to. A lot of them had just married the right man. A lot of them had pasts they’d rather not be reminded of, and maybe being so close to someone they could identify just a little too much with made their weekly salon visits a touch too uncomfortable now.