The Sinner's Marriage Redemption (Seven Sexy Sins Book 5)

by Annie West

  ‘I watched my mother work herself to a shadow—trying to keep everything together, trying to afford better treatment for him. And do you know what thanks she got for her hard work?’ Flynn’s eyes blazed. ‘None. Never a thank-you or a pay rise. And when she needed time off to visit my dad in the hospital your father threatened to sack her if she left in the middle of his fancy winter ball. Even when Dad went into a decline.’

  It was the sort of bombastic, unreasonable attitude that had characterised Michael Cavendish. He’d been ruthless, using anyone and everyone to get what he wanted. Of course he’d have threatened the indispensable Mrs Marshall to keep her from leaving during the biggest event on his calendar.

  Flynn’s fist ground into the palm of his other hand. ‘She was afraid if she got sacked she wouldn’t be able to support me.’

  Beyond the raw fury Ava discerned a bewildered, helpless note she’d never heard from Flynn. It reminded her that he’d been just sixteen when his father had died.

  Flynn raked a hand through his cropped hair. ‘My father died early on Christmas morning. He’d clung to life the previous day, waiting for her. But in the end he just didn’t have the strength to hold out. He died an hour before she got there.’

  ‘You were with him.’

  The lift of Flynn’s shoulders was jerky, reminding her of the gangly youth he’d once been. ‘For what it was worth, yes. But he was waiting for her. I was a poor substitute.’

  Ava doubted that. She’d seen Flynn with his parents. His presence would have meant a lot to his father.

  But her father had prevented Flynn’s mother being with her dying husband. No wonder Flynn had hated him. Her heart felt so heavy she thought it might split.

  ‘That night I vowed things would change. No more living our lives at the beck and call of your father. No more powerlessness. No more poverty.’

  Ava wondered if Flynn even saw her. His expression was haunted.

  ‘With money my father would have got better treatment—the best specialists and care.’ He blinked and seemed to focus. ‘That night I decided I’d do whatever it took to conquer the world. To have it on my terms so my family and I would always be safe.’

  Ava’s mouth dried as she saw the glitter in his eyes—hard and unyielding as polished metal. ‘You wanted money?’

  ‘More than that. I had to control my environment—like your father did. To have the clout, the respect and authority to manage my world. To keep my mother safe and secure. To keep my family safe and secure.’

  His gaze sharpened and focused and Ava read possessiveness in that look. Heat drilled through her.

  ‘I promised myself I’d triumph over your father and men like him. One day I’d take what was his and own Frayne Hall. I’d be richer and stronger, but I’d do it right. No trampling on the little people along the way. No sharp practices. Just talent and honest hard work.’

  She shot to her feet. ‘Honest? The way you’ve treated me isn’t honest.’ She’d been a pawn in his plan—a cog in the wheel of his quest for power.

  He’d never wanted her. Just what she represented. Now it all made sense in a terrible, skewed way. Her gorge rose and she had to clear her throat.

  ‘No wonder you’re a workaholic. There’ll never be enough money to satisfy you, will there? There’ll always be the possibility that something will go wrong and you’ll lose your fortune—like my father did.’

  Ava’s laugh was bitter.

  ‘There was I, worrying about the hours you work, worrying it would destroy your health. And all the time it’s what’s driven you. The need for money.’

  Her gaze narrowed. Her stare should have incinerated him on the spot, but he looked as solid and untouched as before.

  Something like hatred snaked through her belly.

  ‘But money wasn’t enough, was it? You wanted social standing. You wanted prestige. The big house, the aristocratic ties, the socially acceptable wife.’

  Ava’s breath sawed in tight lungs.

  ‘And my father showed you how to do it.’ She spat the words. ‘Buy the big house. Marry the daughter with the ancestry and the social connections. Turn her into—’ She snapped her mouth shut as nausea rose.

  Flynn opened his mouth to speak and she spun away, unable to look at him any more.

  ‘No, you weren’t ready to use me like that quite yet, were you?’ He’d stood up for her with Brayson, after all. ‘What was the plan? To get me pregnant first? Make sure I’d produced an heir or two to your mighty corporate enterprise before you started loaning me out to your business associates?’

  ‘No!’ The roar stopped her in her tracks. ‘I never—’

  ‘Of course you never.’ Her shoulders hunched as she stared through the rain at London’s blurred outline. The grey misery of the day mirrored her aching soul. ‘You didn’t know my father had turned my mother into his whore. Not till I told you. But you’re adaptable. I’m sure given a couple of years you’d have seen the advantages—’

  ‘Don’t ever—’ hard fingers grabbed her arm and swung her round ‘—suggest such a thing.’

  Flynn loomed over her, his face dark, scored by an anger she’d never seen before. As if her taunt had pierced his non-existent heart.

  But Ava was done with being taken in.

  ‘Why not? Because it’s beneath you?’ She jabbed her finger into his shirt, wishing she could drill deep enough to draw blood the way he’d made her bleed inside. ‘You’ve used me from the first. You’ve baulked at nothing to get what you want.’

  ‘I told you, it’s not like that. I care—’

  ‘Care?’ She thrust her face into his and read his shock. ‘You don’t care! You never have. I’m just the stupid, gullible woman you manipulated. You’ve paraded me like a trophy, haven’t you?’

  She’d just been too blind to see.

  ‘What was I?’ Her finger stabbed him again. ‘A key to the few doors still shut to you?’

  A shadow flickered in his eyes and she knew she’d hit the nail on the head.

  Blind fury swamped Ava. After a lifetime of bottling up emotion she’d begun to let go since meeting Flynn. Now her feelings overwhelmed her. She hauled back and aimed a punch at his chiselled jaw. Not some namby-pamby slap, but a punch that would have felled him.

  Except he caught her fist in his hand, his fingers closing around hers, stopping her mid-swing.

  ‘Let me go.’ She ground out the words between clenched teeth, her chest heaving.

  ‘Not until I’m sure you won’t hurt yourself.’

  ‘Hurt myself? It’s you I want to hurt, Flynn Marshall.’ She leaned in, lashing him with her words. ‘I never thought it possible to hate someone like I hated my father. But congratulations. You’ve succeeded. I hate you even more than I did him.’

  His face froze. She felt a jolt of something pass through his hands and into her.

  ‘You don’t mean that, Ava. It’s a shock, I know, and I’m sorry. But I can explain.’

  ‘Explain what? That despite your careful scheming you actually fell in love with me in Paris? That it wasn’t a cold-blooded con?’ She shook her head. ‘Or was it in Prague? Was that when you realised you loved me, not just what I could bring you?’

  Why she let the words spill out Ava didn’t know. They only lashed the open wounds in her heart. Flynn had never loved her. He’d manipulated her at every turn and now he was trying to excuse his actions.

  She blinked back the hot prickle of tears, determined not to let him see her cry.

  ‘Go on, Flynn. Tell me you fell in love with me in Prague. After all, it was so romantic. All those roses, and the wedding dress in just my size. How long did you have your poor PA working on that?’

  ‘Ava, don’t. You’re upsetting yourself.’

  She tugged, but couldn’t free her
hand. ‘So I’m upsetting myself? Funny, I thought it was you who’d done that. What am I supposed to do? Take it all in my stride?’

  ‘You could try listening.’

  Ava drew a deep breath and stared into those lying ebony eyes. ‘I’m. Never. Listening. To. You. Again.’ She huffed a breath. ‘Let me go. Now.’

  ‘Not until you’ve calmed down. You need to hear me out. I care for you, Ava. You must realise that. It started out...differently, but—’

  ‘Differently?’ Despite her determination, tears spiked her eyelashes. Tears of pure fury. ‘It started out as a cynical scheme to dupe me. To make me fall for you. Don’t dare try to tell me you care for me.’

  To her horror her mouth wobbled. She despised this weakness she couldn’t conquer.

  ‘Let me go, Flynn.’

  ‘Not till you calm down.’

  ‘I’m done listening to you. I’m done with you.’ He flinched as she leaned into his space once again. ‘You’ve destroyed whatever I once felt for you.’ She drew a shuddering breath. ‘I’m leaving.’

  ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ With one sudden move Flynn had her backed up against the full-length window, his big frame hemming her in, his expression fierce.

  ‘You’d use force to keep me here?’

  His mouth tugged up at one side in that smile she’d always loved. Her heart pounded faster.

  ‘I don’t need force, Ava. You know that.’

  He captured both her hands and planted them against his chest, covering them with one of his. His other hand stroked up her side, from her hip to her breast, lingering and making her breath hitch.

  ‘You think you can seduce me?’

  He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck, and she arched back against the reinforced glass, torn between dismay and a terrible need that shocked her to the core. How could she want this man when he’d betrayed her? Yet liquid heat pooled between her legs as his hand strayed to her breast.

  ‘I despise you, Flynn Marshall.’

  He squeezed her breast and she bit back a groan.

  ‘No, you don’t. You’re angry, and I deserve that, but you love me. You know you do.’

  He crowded her, his body against her from shoulder to thigh. His erection jutted into the softness of her belly and to her horror Ava wanted to grind her hips against him.

  ‘Not any more. I never want to see you again.’

  ‘Really?’ His lips moved against her throat as his hand skimmed her leg, bunching her skirt high.

  Some primal part of her revelled in his blatant power even as she berated herself.

  How could she want the man who’d used her so?

  Yet she did.

  The realisation threatened to break her.

  ‘I hate you.’

  She closed her eyes, trying to summon the strength to withstand his sensual onslaught. Instead the darkness concentrated every sensation. Her body hummed into overload as his hand slid higher, up her inner thigh, over her lace panties, then delved inside them.

  ‘You call that hatred?’

  His voice was a deep burr, scraping her flesh as his fingers probed the dampness between her legs.

  ‘I—’ Speech cut off as in one shocking move he curled his hand around her panties and tore them away. Her eyes popped open and she stared into eyes so dark she couldn’t tell pupil from iris.

  ‘Tell me you don’t want this.’ His hot breath grazed her face as his fingers teased her most sensitive spot. Her pelvis circled needily into his touch.

  A feral smile curled his mouth. ‘You still want me, Ava.’

  Anger and despair and a wild, keening need to have him again—just once—drove Ava on. Dragging her hands from his hold, she slipped them down his body, one working the button on his trousers, the other moulding his erection.

  Flynn sucked in his breath and that smile disintegrated.

  ‘Yes.’ He hissed. ‘That.’

  An instant later his trousers were undone and he’d hoisted her high, his hands at her waist. He slammed her up against the window and somehow, without her even thinking about it, her legs were around his waist. His erection was hard against her soft folds. Ava shimmied in his hold, desperate for the press of flesh to flesh.

  ‘You love me...’ he gasped.

  She shook her head. ‘No.’ He’d never hear those words from her again. Even if, to her utter despair, she feared they were still true.

  He lifted her higher, away from that delicious contact, and she almost moaned her frustration.

  Desire consumed her, raw and needy. There was nothing gentle about her feelings. She wanted to ride him till he crashed and burned, wrung out by the blast of passion that had risen out of nowhere.

  She wanted to feel one last time that shattering climax. Even though it was with Flynn. Because it was with Flynn. For Ava knew it would be the last time.

  ‘You love me,’ he whispered, his voice velvet on gravel. ‘Say it, Ava.’

  She read the agony of restraint on his tortured features. He needed her as much as she did him. She tasted victory at the knowledge, albeit tainted.

  She gasped and leaned in, dragging his collar aside and biting him on the neck, then licking the spot. The salt tang of his skin filled her mouth.

  He shuddered and suddenly he was there, at her entrance.

  ‘Say it,’ he hissed.

  With one smooth thrust he pushed high, filling Ava till she felt her heart well. Once she’d believed there was nothing more magical than the way they made love, for it symbolised the feelings they shared. Now she knew better. This was lust—pure physical hunger. Not love.

  It shouldn’t feel this good. But it did and she couldn’t bear it. She’d never been more potently aroused.

  ‘You love me, Ava.’

  Her eyes snapped open. Flynn watched her with a concentration that scoured his face, drawing it tight.

  She shook her head.

  He thrust again, slowly, and a ripple of delight lit an incandescent trail within her. She grabbed his shoulders and locked her ankles at his back, drawing him to her. She felt a thrill of power as he moved again, jerkily.

  Ava bit her lip—anything rather than blurt out the words that had once come so easily.

  Flynn’s hooded gaze bored into hers. Her chest tightened as her body worked against his. She felt everything—too much. The physical, the emotional. There was heat and power and need, in a jumble she couldn’t escape, didn’t want to escape. Her fingers dug into him, her grip at his waist tightening as he pounded high and hard.

  ‘You.’

  He tilted his hips, rising and sending her into a haze of pleasure.

  ‘Love.’

  Another thrust, jerkier this time, that had her teetering on the brink.

  ‘Me.’

  One final surge and the cataclysm overtook them both in a pummelling wave. Her cries of rapture mingled with his hoarse roar of completion. They shuddered, clinging together like the last survivors of a wreck in stormy seas.

  And still the waves of ecstasy rippled through her, through them, convulsing them in pleasure so profound it bordered on pain.

  Ava clung. How he stayed upright she had no idea. Surely all her bones had turned to water.

  Stunned, she stared back into fathomless eyes that pinioned her as surely as Flynn’s hands and his big body.

  Ava’s head flopped back against the glass. Dimly she was aware of the fire in her chest as overworked lungs fought to drag in oxygen.

  Since Prague she’d wondered what it would be like if Flynn let go, gave up the niceties, the gentle tenderness that characterised his lovemaking, and let her experience that part of him he kept leashed. The wild, primitive side of his nature.

  Now she knew.

  She’d
thought today’s revelations appalling. But the situation was far worse than she’d imagined.

  For what they’d just shared had been the single most thrilling experience of her life.

  How was she going to eradicate her feelings for Flynn when she still craved him?

  What sort of hopeless, pathetic woman was she?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  FLYNN SAW THE moment Ava’s bright eyes clouded.

  He read dismay and, worse, pain there.

  She stiffened, and he knew that if she could withdraw physically she would, though they were locked together, their hearts hammering in unison.

  A terrible, yawning sense of loss engulfed him as he watched her withdraw mentally instead.

  For months he’d basked in Ava’s warmth. In the sunshine of her smile. In knowing she loved him. It had been a source of guilt. But far more, a secret pleasure.

  He was damned if he’d give that up, no matter how much he deserved her hostility. He’d make her see. He had to.

  Flynn spun round, staggering to the bed as his undone trousers threatened to trip him. They fell onto the mattress, his weight knocking the air from Ava’s lungs. But he made no apology. He knew given half a chance she’d scoot away, watching him with hurt eyes that raked his soul.

  Using his bodyweight, he held her captive, stripping her clothes off with one hand, his other snaring hers. Fabric tore. Buttons popped. Her breath hitched; her mouth was a curl of distaste.

  But her body and avid eyes told him all he needed to know.

  When he tugged at her skirt she lifted her hips so he could drag it free. Her breathing was harsh and fast, not with distress but with excitement. When he brushed her breast as he tugged her bra off she arched up, seeking his caress. He bent and sucked hard at her nipple, rejoicing in her gasp of pleasure.

  Yet he had to be sure.

  ‘You want this?’ She was naked beneath him as he shucked off the last of his clothes. ‘You want me?’

  She nodded once.