The Sinner's Marriage Redemption

‘Besides...’ He leaned in, his breath caressing her ear, sending shivers of delight through her primed body. ‘I want your first time to be memorable in the very best way.’

It took a moment to absorb his words. Ava jerked her head back, shock stiffening her body. He couldn’t know. No one but she knew that she’d never had sex. It wasn’t branded on her forehead!

‘What do you mean, my first time?’ she hissed. Mortification hovered at the thought that she’d given away her inexperience—she who’d learned to project sophistication so early.

Flynn regarded her steadily. ‘Virginity is nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘I’m not ashamed,’ she bit out, too late realising she’d confirmed his suspicions.

He nodded. ‘Good.’ He trailed his knuckles down her hot cheek, his stare once more proprietorial. That look did strange things to her internal organs. It felt as if they were melting. ‘I find the idea utterly entrancing.’

His palm settled at the base of her throat, his fingers caressing skin turned suddenly hyper-sensitive.

‘You have a thing about virgins?’ The words shot out, terse and abrasive. Did his look smack of the sick gloating she’d seen years ago, that last fateful night at Frayne Hall? Then she’d been slavered over like some tasty morsel. A thing, not a person.

‘Ava? What is it?’ Flynn’s voice was sharp.

The air clogged in her throat, depriving her of breath.

‘Talk to me.’ It was an order, and it worked, jerking her out of sordid memory and into the present—the quiet street, the big, charismatic man with concern written on his wrinkled brow.

‘It’s nothing.’

It was a lie, but the alternative—spilling that ancient secret—was untenable. It made her feel tainted.

Ava dragged in air to fill her lungs. ‘I don’t like the idea it’s my virginity you’re interested in, not me.’

‘That’s what’s bothering you?’

His face cleared. He captured her hand, lifting it. His tongue laved the centre of her palm, right up to her wrist, and she shivered as her body caught alight.

‘Believe me, virgins per se don’t tempt me. It’s you I want, Ava. And not just in bed.’

Sincerity blazed in his face, and she felt her doubts crumble.

‘What do you want, Flynn?’

Last night she’d felt on the brink of something—not just sex, but understanding this man who’d transformed her life from ordinary to heady and exciting. If she’d been prone to fantasy she’d have likened him to Prince Charming, sweeping all before him. But Prince Charming with an earthy edge and, despite his suave cloak of wealth, a hint of the maverick about him still. And, just occasionally, a hint of ruthlessness that gave her pause.

Flynn straightened, glancing over his shoulder, reminding her they were crammed against a wall in a nearly deserted street.

‘Come with me.’ He clasped her hand in his and took a half-step back. ‘I have something organised that I think you’ll like. We can discuss this then.’

Ava stood her ground. She needed answers. With Flynn she teetered between absolute certainty that they were two halves of a whole, made for each other, and the rare but unnerving idea that she’d missed something vital. That their relationship wasn’t the wildly romantic affair it seemed.

She had to know.

‘Tell me now. I need to understand.’

Night-dark eyes scanned her face, coming to rest on her mouth. Was her bottom lip sticking out? Her father had accused her of ugly pouting if she ever showed a hint of rebellion.

But Flynn didn’t look at her as if she were ugly. The heat in his stare sent tingles through her. The air between them fizzed with energy.

‘Please, Flynn.’

Did he hear her yearning?

He smiled ruefully, shaking his head. ‘I had it all planned. It wasn’t going to be like this.’

‘What wasn’t going to be like this?’

There it was again—that look in his eyes that told her Flynn wasn’t like the city suits her father had mixed with. Despite his designer gold watch, expensive clothes and high-powered business meetings there was something elemental about Flynn.

To her amazement, he dropped to his knees on the cobblestones. To one knee, to be precise. His wry half-smile drove a cleft down his cheek, almost distracting her from the remarkable sight of him kneeling before her.

Once more he raised her hand to his mouth and his lips pressed her flesh. The hint of humour disappeared.

‘Will you marry me, Ava?’

Her stomach swooped and did an unnerving loop the loop. Her hand began to shake in his.

‘I want you in my bed, sweetheart. But I want much more. I want you to be my wife.’

‘I...’ She goggled. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected a proposal. Her heart soared. Flynn wanted to spend his life with her. He cared more than she’d ever guessed possible.

But marriage!

‘We’ve only known each other a week.’

His brows rose. ‘We’ve known each other for years.’

But how well? Seven years older than her, he’d usually been busy helping his father on the estate grounds, or running errands for his mother in the Hall kitchen. After he’d left for London she’d only seen him on brief visits home.

Yet despite that, she’d known his character. His integrity.

Then there’d been the night of the car crash. The night that had changed everything. Flynn had no idea how much his help had meant to her. Not merely because of the accident but because he’d given her time and respite to see that she’d had to go back and face her demons.

He’d cared for her as no one in that house had.

His support had strengthened her.

She’d been half in love with him even then.

Was it any wonder she’d fallen for him now? He embodied all she craved in a man: honour, respect, trust. Passion.

‘But...marriage!’

Still he knelt. He showed no self-consciousness.