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

by Annie West

  It wasn’t what he wanted. He needed her words in his ears, assuring him she still cared. But that would come. He’d show her how good they were together, convince her to stay and hear him out. Everything would be fine.

  Flynn ignored the glissade of ice down his nape at the possibility he couldn’t persuade her.

  Instead he loved his wife with all the passion he usually tempered. He pleasured her, but his touch wasn’t gentle. Desperation seeped into each caress, each kiss, each urgent buck of his body.

  His heart smashed his ribs as he fought the need to lose himself prematurely. He had just enough wits to ensure Ava was with him every step of the way. Her hands shook as they skimmed his damp shoulders, his flanks, then anchored hard on his buttocks.

  Yes! She was furious. Disappointed. But she needed him, loved him. It was there in her body’s urgent demands, in the sweet hunger of her kiss as they rode the maelstrom together into oblivion.

  * * *

  A lifetime later Flynn stirred.

  Never had he experienced the white-hot catharsis that blasted him as he and Ava shattered in each other’s arms.

  She’d blown him to smithereens and he wasn’t sure all the pieces had melded back together.

  Despite the gravity of their situation his lips curved in satisfaction. He had some persuading to do, but she must realise they were perfect together. That was what mattered—

  A sound penetrated. Reluctantly he opened his eyes.

  Ava stood naked at the end of the bed. She was lushly curved, her hair a tangled froth of gold, her skin flushed. She’d never looked more delectable.

  ‘Come back to bed and let me explain.’

  Her eyes sliced to his and away. But not before he read the glitter in them. Hell! She was on the verge of tears. Flynn hated that he’d made her cry. He hated that he’d hurt her when all he’d wanted was to look after her.

  Yeah, after you used her for your own ends.

  He jack-knifed up, head spinning. That was when he saw she was shoving her bare feet into shoes.

  Flynn scowled. This wasn’t the time to enjoy how sexy his wife looked naked in high heels. But that indefatigable part of him twitched with interest.

  ‘What are you doing?’ It emerged as a growl.

  Ava bent to pick up shimmering silk, then tossed the blouse away when she saw it had no buttons.

  Flynn softened his voice. ‘Come back to bed, Ava. Let me explain. I did wrong. Badly wrong,’ he added as her eyes flashed at him. ‘But I care about you, sweetheart. I—’

  ‘Don’t, Flynn.’ Her voice was unrecognisable. Clipped and sharp. ‘There’s nothing I want to hear from you.’

  Bemused, he watched her stalk across the room and scoop something from the floor. The sway of her bare breasts distracted him for a moment. It wasn’t till she shrugged on her trench coat that he focused. His nape prickled.

  ‘Ava. Be reasonable. You can’t go out dressed like that.’

  Blue fire shot from her narrowed eyes. ‘Watch me.’ Her fingers worked furiously, doing up buttons.

  Flynn shifted to the edge of the bed.

  ‘Stop right there.’

  ‘But you can’t leave. We need to talk.’

  ‘I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Nothing could excuse what you did.’

  For an instant her mouth crumpled and his chest felt as if it was caving in.

  ‘You used me. Worse, I let you—because I was busy falling for a mirage. I couldn’t see I was following in my mother’s footsteps. Even though I’d vowed to be stronger, settle for nothing less than true love.’

  She drew in a mighty breath.

  ‘I hate you, Flynn.’ The words pierced like poisoned darts, making him flinch. ‘And I hate myself for colluding with you. For making excuses for you and being weak and not standing up for myself.’

  Panic flared. ‘You’re not weak. You’re strong, Ava. The strongest woman I know.’ And she loved him. Surely she still loved him. Wasn’t love about forgiveness?

  But it wasn’t forgiveness he read in her over-bright eyes. It was fury and despair.

  It hit Flynn that maybe he’d never convince her. Maybe she’d never forgive him.

  Pain racked him, hollowing his gut, churning his belly, weakening his limbs.

  ‘Don’t go, Ava. Please. I care about you. More than you know.’

  He could stop her. He was stronger. He could force her to hear him out.

  Except when she’d finished tying her belt her gaze fixed him like a javelin to the heart. The pain in her face was too much. He couldn’t force her.

  ‘You think I’d fall for your empty words? Words are easy. You bend them to your own ends. I repeat: there’s nothing you can say to make me stay. Not now. Not ever.’

  She spun on one heel and marched out the door.

  He should go after her.

  He needed her.

  He couldn’t let her walk the streets naked beneath that coat.

  But how to win her back if she wouldn’t listen?

  Fear crowded and he found himself shaking. A harsh laugh ripped from his throat. The tragic irony didn’t escape him. For there was one last secret between them.

  He loved her.

  All this time when he’d thought he was concentrating on his plans he’d been falling in love with her. Ava had crept into his heart and he’d been too busy to see it.

  He braced himself on shaking hands.

  He loved his wife.

  And if he told her she’d think it was another lie.

  How could he win back the only woman he’d ever loved when he’d hurt her so badly she refused to listen?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SPRING HAD COME to Newcastle. Even here in the north the temperature had finally risen. There was more blue in the sky than cloud, and the scent of growing things sneaked into Ava’s nostrils.

  She felt the sun through her jacket and wondered how many months it would be—or would it be years?—till she felt warm.

  She’d picked up the pieces. Moved cities. Found a job. Begun to make friends. Kept busy with evenings at the cinema, with the choir she’d joined, Pilates classes, volunteering at a youth centre. She’d even joined a gardening group, though her garden consisted of two sad little window boxes that didn’t get enough sun.

  If she kept busy one day her smiles would come more naturally. She’d stop pining for Flynn and the life she’d imagined they’d share.

  Flynn.

  Her hand twitched on the envelope in her pocket.

  For months there’d been no contact and she’d told herself it was for the best. He hadn’t followed her, trying to persuade her. Of course not. Flynn wanted a wife for show, not a woman craving love.

  Ava’s pace quickened. The sooner she got to this meeting with his lawyer the sooner it would be over.

  She knew what was coming. Divorce.

  * * *

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want tea or coffee, Mrs Marshall?’

  ‘No, thank you. I’d rather not delay.’

  The lawyer nodded. ‘There’s a bit to get through.’ She opened a folder. ‘We’ll start with the papers for Frayne Hall.’

  Ava stiffened. ‘I have no interest in it. My husband...’ Her throat closed. ‘My husband knows that. I won’t make any claim on it in the divorce proceedings.’

  ‘Divorce?’ The other woman looked surprised. ‘You’re arranging a divorce?’

  ‘Isn’t that what this meeting is about?’

  ‘Far from it.’ The lawyer shook her head.

  ‘You’d better explain.’ Ava didn’t like the way her heart had lifted at the other woman’s words. As if she wanted to stay married to Flynn.

  How long before she rid herse
lf of that weakness?

  ‘Mrs Marshall, your husband has signed Frayne Hall over to you.’

  ‘He’s done what?’ Ava’s voice was a rasp of disbelief.

  ‘It’s here in black and white.’ The lawyer spread documents across the desk but Ava was too stunned to focus on them.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely, Mrs Marshall.’ She pointed to Flynn’s signature on the bottom of the pages.

  Ava slumped back in her seat. How could this be? She knew what the place meant to Flynn. How he’d worked to get it. The lengths he’d gone to. It had been proof of his triumph over her father and all he represented.

  Why give it to her? Guilt?

  Hope lit her dark mood but she squashed it. She’d spent too long expecting the best of Flynn.

  ‘I don’t want it.’

  A frown marred the other woman’s brow. ‘You’d prefer us to organise its sale? You don’t plan to live there? Or pursue the option your husband has investigated?’

  ‘What option? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘My apologies. I’d understood that you were involved...’ The lawyer shrugged and slid a fat folder towards her. ‘It’s entirely your choice what you do with the estate, but your husband has invested a good deal of time and money developing a proposal to use Frayne Hall as a vacation centre for disadvantaged children. All the necessary approvals have been obtained. The project is ready to proceed, if you choose, and of course if you approve the plans.’

  Ava stared, stunned, at the papers before her.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. Extended kitchen facilities. Improved disabled access. A pool complex behind the stables. An outdoor adventure course on the edge of the woods. A large playground, partly under cover, near the main building. Tennis courts. A go-kart track and skate park. A media centre.

  Ava flipped the pages, her amazement growing. It was a bigger, far superior version of what she’d worked on in her old job. There were detailed costings and even a list of preferred suppliers.

  ‘Let me get this straight. My husband...’ Ava paused on the word ‘...is giving me Frayne Hall to use as a children’s holiday centre?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’ The other woman smiled. ‘It’s yours to do with entirely as you wish. This—’ she waved her hand at the papers that must have taken months of painstaking work ‘—is just an option for you to consider.’

  ‘And this?’ Ava scanned another bundle of documents—a business plan.

  ‘I understand one proposal is to open the Hall’s reception rooms for upmarket functions. That would partly fund the holiday centre, so it’s not totally dependent on Marshall Enterprises.’

  Not totally dependent on Marshall Enterprises.

  The papers Ava held drifted to the table and she sat back, blinking. Her pulse pounded.

  ‘He’s personally paying for the upkeep?’ This was one shock on top of another. She felt wobbly, her breathing uneven.

  ‘Not quite, Mrs Marshall.’

  There. Hadn’t she known it? Of course it wasn’t true.

  ‘Mr Marshall won’t fund it. You will, if you agree.’

  ‘Sorry?’ What sort of sick joke was this? Flynn must know her income was modest. There was no way she could—

  ‘As well as giving you Frayne Hall, your husband has made arrangements for you to become sole owner of Marshall Enterprises.’

  ‘What?’ Ava’s voice was a breathless gasp. ‘You’re not serious. Flynn wouldn’t give up his company. It’s...’

  It was everything to him.

  His source of income. His proof of identity. His power base. His stability.

  Everything he’d worked for since he was seventeen.

  ‘There’s some mistake.’

  Ava shoved her chair from the table and strode to the window. The view between the buildings was of the River Tyne, the Baltic Art Centre and the Gateshead Millennium Bridge. But in her mind it was Flynn she saw, his determined jaw, his eyes shrewd.

  Flynn lived for business. If he wasn’t actually working he was calculating his next commercial move.

  ‘No mistake, Mrs Marshall. Your husband has signed over everything he owns, except the house where his mother resides, to you. You own his company, all its assets and Frayne Hall.’

  Ava swung round. ‘He wouldn’t. I don’t know anything about running a business.’

  The lawyer was on her feet, pouring coffee at a credenza. ‘Sugar? Milk?’

  Ava blinked. ‘Milk, please.’ Dazedly she accepted the proffered cup, bending her head to inhale the rich, familiar scent.

  ‘I can see this is a shock.’ The lawyer smiled. ‘We’ll take our time with the details. But you don’t have to worry about anything. Your husband has passed the company to you, but since his resignation as CEO it’s been run very competently by expert managers. You’re a very wealthy woman, Mrs Marshall. Whether you choose to keep the assets your husband has passed to you or whether you choose to sell. You don’t need to decide today.’

  * * *

  Ava clung to the railing on the pedestrian bridge, staring blindly at the river.

  The lawyer hadn’t exaggerated. She was wealthy beyond her wildest dreams. But it wasn’t the money that stunned her. It was that Flynn had cut himself off from everything he cared for. His wealth, his business, Frayne Hall.

  Building his empire had been his sole purpose. How could he relinquish it?

  Yet it was done. He’d walked away from the lot.

  An alarm sounded and the pedestrians hurried away. The bridge was about to lift to let a boat through. Huddling into her jacket Ava followed, her mind in turmoil.

  As she reached the end a silhouette caught her eye.

  A man looking towards the river. Towards her.

  A tall man with wild, windblown curls. A man with broad shoulders and long, powerful legs.

  Flynn.

  She stumbled to a halt, her heart beating so loudly she scarcely heard the bridge siren.

  He didn’t move. His hands were deep in his pockets and his feet planted wide, as if to ground himself.

  How long had he been watching her?

  Ava took a step forward. Then another. There was no conscious decision to go to him but suddenly she was hurrying, drawn by something stronger than caution. Something that made her battered heart lift despite all she’d learned about dreams not coming true.

  ‘It’s you.’

  He looked different. Like the Flynn she remembered from years ago. In faded jeans and a leather jacket, ebony curls framing a face that was all hard lines. More lines than before. The grooves beside his mouth were deep and his mouth grim. He looked dangerous rather than suave.

  Dangerous to her heart. It slammed to a stop as their eyes met, then gave a mighty thump and took off racing.

  ‘Why?’ she whispered.

  ‘You told me there was nothing I could say that would make it better.’ He shrugged. ‘Actions speak louder.’

  Ava stared at that taut face. Nothing moved except his hair, riffled by the wind. And something in his eyes. They weren’t as impenetrable as she recalled.

  She stepped close. His scent drew her and she had to ground her feet rather than lean in.

  ‘You think you can get away with that?’

  ‘Sorry?’ His brows rose.

  ‘You don’t think I deserve an explanation?’ She watched him watch her and something cracked inside. ‘You think it’s enough to make some ridiculously extravagant gesture and say nothing?’ She heard her voice wobble and snapped her mouth closed.

  One hand lifted towards her, then fell. ‘What can I say?’

  Indignation swamped her. Lava-hot fury that was unstoppable after what he’d put her through. She’d walked into the
lawyer’s expecting divorce papers and instead...

  ‘An explanation would be a good starting place.’ She struggled for control. ‘What made you think I’d want your money, your business? What am I supposed to do with it?’

  ‘Build your dream.’ His jaw was clamped so hard his lips barely moved.

  ‘My dream!’ She blinked back a hot glaze of tears. ‘My dream was never about money. You must know that.’

  ‘You can have your children’s holiday home.’

  Ava stared. ‘You honestly think that was my dream? That it would make up for—’ She waved her hand when words failed. Finally she found her voice. ‘It’s something I believe in, something I want to do, but it’s not my life’s ambition.’

  ‘Then what is? Tell me and I’ll help you get it.’

  He looked so earnest she couldn’t bear it. She turned to stare blindly at the river, her heart aching. After all this time it was still Flynn she wanted.

  ‘Ava?’

  His deep voice came from just behind her. She felt his warmth. She wanted to drink it in. That was how successfully she’d banished him from her heart!

  ‘Please. I am sorry. That’s why I signed everything over to you. I couldn’t think of words convincing enough to explain how much I regretted what I’d done. I thought doing something like that would show you.’

  ‘Doing something like giving up what you’ve spent your life working for?’

  ‘Exactly. When I saw how badly I’d hurt you, how I’d turned into someone like your father, I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t like the man I’d become, with my grandiose plans. It wasn’t what I’d intended.’ He paused. ‘I hated how I’d injured you.’

  ‘So you’re sorry?’ Ava wrapped her arms around herself, wondering why the apology didn’t lighten her leaden heart. Why the stupendous gift didn’t assuage the pain. ‘I don’t want your blood money.’

  ‘You don’t?’ Flynn’s voice sounded hollow.

  ‘It’s not enough.’

  He was silent so long she thought he wouldn’t speak again.

  ‘It’s all I had to give.’

  Ava hunched forward, pain slicing. Had she really expected anything else? She knew Flynn didn’t love her. How could it still hurt? How could she have thought that might have changed?