Her Mistletoe Wish

by Lucy Clark

  Sunainah had hugged her close and a fresh bout of tears had fallen on her friend’s shoulder. ‘What will you do?’

  ‘What I always do.’ Reggie had sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue before blowing her nose. ‘I’ll cry and then box everything up in my mind and shove it into a dark corner. Then I’ll pick myself up and rely on my awesome friends to be there for me.’

  ‘We are pretty awesome.’ Sunainah had chuckled.

  ‘And I will be as bright and cheerful as I know how. If I fold a facade around me, one I can control, letting people believe I am forever the happy-go-lucky girl, I’ll be able to cope.’

  ‘I hope you are correct.’

  Reggie had hugged Sunainah close before standing up to pace around the room. ‘I will be happy. I’ll lock my love for Flynn away and never think about it again.’

  ‘That is impossible.’

  ‘Probably.’ She’d stared at a photograph of the two of them together, standing on the beach at sunset, holding big, colourful drinks with little umbrellas in them. ‘Goodbye, Flynn,’ she’d whispered, then kissed the photograph and handed it to Sunainah. ‘Hide this somewhere for me.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Sunainah had asked.

  Reggie had closed her eyes, a single tear falling from her lashes before she’d taken a deep, cleansing breath and slowly released it. Then she’d opened her eyes, forced a smile onto her lips and laughed. ‘Positive.’

  ‘Is that the answer to my question or your projected attitude?’

  ‘Both.’

  And Reggie had done her best to be that happy-go-lucky girl for the past six years, doing her best to redirect her thoughts whenever she’d accidentally caught herself thinking about Flynn, wanting to know what he was up to, where he was working, whether or not he had children with his stunningly gorgeous wife. She’d stopped reading the social pages, turning off the television or radio at any mention of the Jamieson Corporation. She hadn’t wanted to know.

  She’d focused on her work, an ever-present smile on her face, her bright and cheerful attitude becoming less forced and more of who she really was. And whenever she had slipped for a minute and indulged herself by wondering what the heir to the Jamieson Corporation was doing with his life, she would force herself to go out on a date. There was no shortage of handsome men working at the hospital but none of them had ever been able to break through the walls she’d erected so firmly about her heart.

  Then Flynn had appeared, standing across the corridor from her clinic room, and everything had started to crumble. Now he wanted to talk? Now he wanted to set the record straight? He hadn’t thought the two of them together was a mistake? Was this a world she wanted to enter again? Surely a leopard didn’t change its spots. Surely, given that Flynn had hurt her once, he would do it again.

  He switched the radio on as they drove through the quiet streets of Maroochydore but where Reggie had wanted nothing more than to sleep before, Flynn’s words had been like a shot of adrenaline and she was now very much awake.

  He wanted to talk. That could mean anything, so what on earth was he going to say…and was she going to like it?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘ANOTHER LONG DAY,’ she murmured as they walked into his town house. She didn’t know if she could face this ‘talk’ with Flynn on top of the day they’d had. Maybe she should just go straight to her room and hide there for as long as she could.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you sit in the lounge and I’ll join you in a moment?’

  ‘Actually, Flynn, if you don’t mind…’ Reggie eased her way through the kitchen, aiming towards the downstairs bedroom. ‘Can we talk later?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But I’m exhausted.’

  Flynn looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head. ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ she questioned, feeling her annoyance beginning to rise. ‘You can’t make me sit down and talk about something I’m not sure I want to talk—’

  Without a word, he moved quickly, gently scooping her into his arms and pressing his mouth to hers in one swift motion, effectively shutting her up, just as he’d warned her earlier. Reggie barely had time to register his movements before a flood of delight and excitement zinged around her body like an out-of-control pinball. He knew how to move his mouth against hers in order to garner a response of pleasure and it appeared he wasn’t above using this knowledge and skill right now.

  At first, though, he didn’t move his mouth, just pressed his lips to hers as though needing to reacquaint himself with her gloriousness, but after breathing her in, after closing his eyes and allowing the drug that was Reggie to once more flow through his system, Flynn eased back ever so marginally and deepened the kiss.

  Slowly, slowly, slowly. As though inflicting the most exquisite torture on their senses, he coaxed her lips to part gently, the taste of her fuelling his desire. She was all sweetness and light and sunshine, bringing her unique brand of pleasure back into his life. It was what she’d done all those years ago, breaking down his barriers, wanting him, needing him, teaching him how to lighten up, not to take things so seriously, to be free from repression.

  ‘You’re too stuffy,’ she’d once told him, and he’d been impressed with the way she’d teased and laughed at him, so unlike any of the other women he’d met throughout his life. Most of them had only wanted one thing—access to his family’s fortune.

  ‘Women aren’t interested in you, son, and they never will be,’ his father had told him time and time again. ‘All they want are clothes and shoes and jewellery and anything else your money can buy them. Sure, they might show a smidgen of affection for you in the beginning but it’ll wane. It always does.’

  ‘So…you and Mum?’ Flynn had questioned him. ‘What? Mum only married you for your money?’

  ‘Your mother had money of her own, son. That’s the point. Marry someone who already has money and you know they don’t want you just for your money.’ His father had dragged heavily on his expensive Cuban cigar, then coughed. ‘Even then, they’re happy to take whatever you give them. Everyone has their price.’

  And yet, when Flynn had met Reggie, he’d had the distinct impression that she really didn’t have a price at all. All she’d wanted out of life had been to be happy and to spread that happiness to others. She was a clever, caring and charismatic woman who had completely turned his head.

  They’d both been staying in the short-term accommodation apartments owned by the hospital to house the doctors who spent time working in Sint Maarten, so they’d bumped into each other quite frequently. Then one night, in the apartment complex’s large, almost empty dining room, when Flynn had been sitting alone at a table, Reggie had pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.

  ‘Well, it seems completely ridiculous for the two of us to be eating by ourselves, especially as you’re new here,’ she’d offered by way of explanation. Before he’d been able to say a word, the waitress had brought over their meals and he’d found himself eating—and enjoying—dinner with Reggie Smith.

  The more time he’d spent with her, the more intrigued he’d become. She was so carefree, crazy and challenging, making him re-evaluate some of his ideals. Soon he’d been unable to stop himself from kissing her and before his time in Sint Maarten had ended, he’d found himself proposing to the most wonderful and exhilarating woman he’d ever known.

  Now Flynn gathered her as close as he could, unable to believe he was permitted to hold her once again, to tenderly caress her back, to continue to absorb her delightful response to the kisses he was pressing to her lips. Didn’t she have any idea just how perfect she was for him? How he’d wished he hadn’t been so spineless all those years ago and had stood up for what he’d wanted instead of continuing to allow his overbearing father to dictate his life?

  But that was then and this was now. He’d made the break, he’d taken control over his own life and somehow he’d found his way back to the one place he’d always f
elt like he belonged—with Reggie’s arms wrapped around him, her mouth responding enthusiastically to his.

  ‘Flynn.’ She whispered his name as she reluctantly broke her mouth from his, her breathing erratic and uneven. She put both hands on his shoulders and eased back. ‘We can’t do this again.’ She tried to shake her head but instead found her lips once more captured by his. She moaned with delight, wanting his glorious torture to continue forever as well as wanting it to finish as soon as possible so she didn’t end up revealing just how much she still cared for him.

  She knew she should push him away, to break the contact. Self-preservation was usually high on her list of priorities but this was Flynn and where he was concerned she’d never been able to think straight. When they’d first met he’d turned her mind to mush. When they’d argued he’d turned her mind to mush. When he’d smiled at her, hugged her, kissed her, he’d turned her mind to mush.

  At first, in Sint Maarten, she’d done her best to keep their relationship strictly professional, wanting to deny the uncharacteristic desire she’d felt towards him. She hadn’t dated wealthy men. That had been her one rule and even though Flynn hadn’t told her about his excessively rich family, from the moment she’d met him she’d known exactly who he was.

  She’d appreciated his skills as a doctor, she’d liked the way they’d seemed to work together so seamlessly, enjoying the inventive ways and solutions he’d devised for dealing with a variety of situations. What she hadn’t expected was to find herself wanting to spend more time with him, to talk to him, to tease him, to laugh with him outside working hours.

  And then he’d broken her heart, he’d rejected her love and he’d left her. Even though she wanted to see where this frightening natural chemistry that still existed between them might lead, she wasn’t sure her heart was strong enough to endure another rejection from him. As the pain from her past, the pain she’d locked away so tightly, started to bubble up and over, she felt a surge of power course through her and pushed her hands against his shoulders.

  ‘No!’ She broke from his embrace and took a step away, bumping into the wall and almost tripping over. Flynn instinctively reached out a hand towards her, wanting to help her, but she shifted farther away.

  ‘Reggie?’

  As she looked at him, she was pleased to see he was equally as out of breath, as shaken up with repressed desire as she was. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one affected by the raw, animalistic power that still existed between them.

  ‘I can’t do this, Flynn.’

  ‘Do…what?’

  ‘This!’ She indicated the distance between them, the thick, heavy attraction that was surrounding them, wanting to draw them closer.

  ‘Why? What is it that’s stopping you?’

  She stared at him with incredulity. ‘Er…how about the fact that you broke my heart?’ She turned to walk away, not wanting to relive the pain and mortification he’d inflicted on her. She’d been very disciplined not to think about it and she wasn’t about to start now, especially not in front of him.

  Flynn nodded. ‘If it’s any consolation, I broke mine as well.’

  That stopped her. Frowning, she turned to face him. ‘What?’

  ‘As I said before at the car, walking away from you that night was not only the hardest thing I’ve ever done but also the stupidest.’

  ‘Stupidest?’

  Flynn raked a hand through his hair, his agitation quite evident. ‘I was a fool, Reggie, and for years I’ve wanted to humbly beg your forgiveness. Now that you’re here, in front of me, willing to listen to me, that’s exactly what I’m doing.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Will you? Can you…forgive me?’

  Reggie stared at him in utter astonishment. ‘But…wait a second. If breaking up with me broke your heart as well, why did you do it?’ She spread her arms wide, her eyes revealing just how perplexed she was with what he was saying.

  ‘My parents.’ He shook his head. ‘Pressure from my father, emotional blackmail from my mother.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘All my life I’d been told that women would never be interested in me for me. That when they looked at me all they would see was a walking chequebook. Money would always win out against love, or so I’d been led to believe. But the other fact was that my mother was very ill back then, and there was some controversy as to whether I should even go to the Caribbean in the first place. Although I haven’t necessarily seen eye to eye with my parents over the years, they’re still my parents and I’m honour bound to them.’

  Reggie snorted at his words. ‘“Honour bound”. Ha. What honour? The world of the wealthy. It has its own way to bully and oppress.’

  ‘Er…yes.’ He seemed astonished she understood.

  ‘I take it her health improved as you did indeed come to the Caribbean.’

  ‘Yes, and while I was there, while I was with you, I started to see the world differently. You helped me to see it differently and I started to realise the world I’d been raised in had certain…flaws.’

  ‘One being that it was OK to think for yourself?’

  ‘Yes.’ Again he was surprised at her insight.

  ‘And the marriage you entered into the instant you left me?’

  ‘It was my mother’s final wish.’

  ‘Let me guess. Your mother was good friends with Violet’s mother?’

  ‘The best of friends, yes.’

  Reggie shrugged and turned away from him, walking into the lounge room and slumping down into a chair, closing her eyes.

  ‘As ridiculous and as old-fashioned as it might sound, our mothers had always talked of Violet and I marrying, all our lives. We were to have children who would bind our two families together forever.’

  ‘And how did you and Violet feel about this?’

  Flynn shrugged. ‘Violet was more like a sister to me. Neither of us have siblings. As far as the arranged marriage went, I guess as I’d always been told that was what was expected of me, I didn’t think about it much. Until…until I met you.’

  ‘You were OK with having an arranged marriage?’

  ‘Back then, I guess I was…but as I’ve said, then I met you and everything changed.’

  ‘But the wealthy are supposed to marry the wealthy.’ She shook her head, looking at him through her lashes. ‘It’s snobbish and elitist and not to mention outdated.’

  ‘And yet it’s still happening even today.’ Flynn sat down on the lounge next to her, facing her, needing her to understand. ‘My mother’s health deteriorated while I was in Sint Maarten but I didn’t know that as I hadn’t been answering their calls. I’d wanted to shut out my life, ignore the pressures waiting for me once I returned to Melbourne. I wanted to live in the world you and I had created for ourselves, to stay happy in our bubble.’

  ‘And when you finally reconnected with that world?’

  ‘I was told my mother had been admitted to hospital only a few hours before. Guilt swamped me, especially when my father continued to lecture me about my irresponsible behaviour of not staying in contact. And there I was, calling them to tell them the good news, to let them know that I’d found the woman of my dreams and that I was engaged.

  ‘When I told my father that I’d most certainly come home but that I was bringing my new fiancée with me, he told me I might as well stick a scalpel directly into my mother’s heart and kill her instantly. He blustered about how the wedding to Violet was set. That it was my mother’s final wish to see Violet and I married and that was what was going to happen.

  ‘He talked to me long and hard about my duty, my honour, my need to step up and do the right thing. He convinced me that there was no way any woman—you—could ever feel anything deep and abiding for me, nothing that would stand the test of time.’

  Flynn closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘He’d sent his private jet to the airport for me and I was to be on it the following afternoon. Alone. I was so eaten up with guilt. My mother had been ill and I’d been selfish enough to shut her
out simply because I’d been with you.

  ‘I paced around, thinking things through, trying to rationalise whether or not you truly loved me, and yet somehow…my thinking changed. I did find it difficult to believe that you could really love me for me, that you must know about my family’s money and that was the only reason you’d even given me the time of day.’

  ‘You were angry with me.’ Reggie’s statement was soft but clear. ‘I could see it in your eyes.’

  He closed his eyes for a moment as though recalling that horrible scene in her room when he’d called off their engagement. ‘I was, but only because I’d convinced myself you couldn’t possibly love me,’ he admitted honestly. ‘It was easier for me to break it off with you if I believed you’d only been interested in me for my family fortune.’

  ‘The wealthy can behave however they like and nine times out of ten they do. A law unto themselves.’

  Flynn looked at her with a hint of surprise. ‘I disagree with that statement, at least as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘Perhaps now, but not back then. Your father dictated your path and you just let him. You let his voice get into your head and control you, just as it always had.’

  ‘I know, but…’ Flynn shifted in his seat, defence at her attack on his father grating on him, even though he knew what she was saying was absolutely true. ‘My mother was ill. Gravely ill. She passed away five days after the wedding.’

  ‘And was she happy?’

  ‘Seeing me married to Violet? Yes, she was. It was what happened after that which I didn’t appreciate.’

  ‘Being stuck in an arranged marriage?’ she guessed.

  ‘Well, there was that, but, more importantly, not three days after my mother’s funeral my father threw a large wedding reception, inviting everyone who should have been invited to what he termed was “the society wedding of the year”.’ Flynn waved his hand in the air as though he was announcing a headline.

  ‘Did you know about it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And you couldn’t stop it?’

  ‘I wanted to but everyone kept saying it was what Mum had wanted, that she’d helped to plan it and that if it didn’t go ahead, we were dishonouring her memory.’