Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds (5 page)

“No. I spent years trying to make sense of it. I’m still not sure I understand it but I’ve made peace with it. There was a time I thought I’d never forgive her for keeping us there. I guess now I see I was blaming the wrong person.”

Roshan is back, clearing our half eaten plates again. Gregory asks me before cancelling dessert and dismissing Roshan for the evening. When we’re alone, Gregory pushes out his chair and moves to stand in the window. There are so many thoughts rolling through my head, I just can’t get a handle on anything. I stay in my seat and watch his reflection in the glass panes.

“When my mother refused to leave, I stopped going to her. I stopped making him turn on me. Christ, I just left him to beat her because I was so fucking irate. He could’ve killed her and I just sat in my room, hiding.” His back rises with his breath. “My mother wasn’t enough for him then. She wasn’t enough satisfaction. That’s when things changed. Then he’d come looking for us, Elsa and me.”

He turns. “This is what you need to know about me, Scarlett. You know what I did when he came for me and my sister? I hid from him. I
fucking
hid!”

His barked words make me jump.

“I stood behind doors, in wardrobes, under beds. He went to Elsa and he didn’t just fucking beat her, Scarlett, he...”

His face is full of anguish as he drags both hands through his hair and holds them to the back of his head, his fingers interlaced, his knuckles white.

A silent tear streams down my face. “He abused her.”

He’s shaking his head, then nodding his head, all the while balling his hair in his fists. I’ve never seen him like this, losing control. “Over and fucking over. At first she’d fight and scream, then she used to take it. Silently. But I could hear it. The bed, the sound of him.”

I can’t move. I’m rooted to my chair, tears pouring down my face.

“It went on for months before I couldn’t sit back anymore. I would go to her. Christ, I can still see it in my head every day. What he did to her. The look in his eyes. He wasn’t bothered about me anymore. It was like he’d stepped up to a whole other level. I’d goad him, shout things and fight him. But he’d knock me down, lock me out of the room. I couldn’t help her and I’m the reason it fucking started.”

His hands move back over his face and he drops his head. Then his body jerks and he smacks a fist so hard into the wall that I’m surprised it doesn’t leave a hole. I move towards him, my legs leaden, desperate to help him, to touch him.

“No.” He turns and I see his red eyes, desperately fighting, unwilling to let go. “You need to hear it.” He takes a deep breath. “She went away for a while. I don’t know where. I was just relieved that my mother had seen sense. The beatings got worse for us but I didn’t care. By then, I wanted them to be worse. I wanted to die. I prayed every night but not for him to stop. I prayed for him to go too far and end it, end everything.”

My silent tears turn to sobs.

“She came back. Elsa. He made her come back. I don’t know how or why, I just remember coming home from school one day. I was ten. She was back, and it started again.”

I reach out to touch his arms but he backs away.

“The next day.” He pulls air through his teeth and rolls his tight jaw. “When I came home from school, the police were at the house. She slit her wrists. She killed herself and it was all my fault.” His eyes close, masking his pain. “I let him beat my mother and rape my sister. Do you hear me? My sister killed herself when she was fourteen years old because I didn’t help her. I stood by and I might as well have killed her myself.” He slams a flat palm against the window and holds it there. “I hurt people I love, Scarlett. And when I met you, it started all over again. I hurt you. I couldn’t protect you. You had to get out of London. You had to get away from me because I’m a monster, Scarlett.”

I’m stuck to the spot, unable to move or think, staring at the broken man in front of me. I don’t know what I expected but I didn’t expect
this
.

He turns, his eyes fixed on mine expectantly. “So now you know.”

My lungs have an overwhelming need to catch air and I realise I’ve been holding my breath.

“You should go,” he says softly.

I just keep staring at him, images and thoughts confused in my mind.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

I move my head from side to side, slowly, then faster, then violently. “Gregory, this, all of this, it’s
not
your fault. Do you hear me? You didn’t ask for that sick bastard to be your father. You were a boy. A baby.”

“I let him rape her, Scarlett.”

“No!” I go to him now and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. “No, you didn’t.”

He wraps his firm arms around my body, holding my head to his shoulder, and rests his chin on my scalp.

“You’re a good man, Gregory Ryans. You’re the best man. You’re kind and brave and that little boy didn’t deserve to be born into that life. Are you listening to me?”

“I love you.”

Those three words. Through all his pain and torment, his says those three words.

“God, Gregory, I love you, too. So much it hurts.”

He squeezes me so tightly I can’t breathe. I tell him so and he laughs. A short-lived break but I’ll take it.

He releases his grip and pulls back. “Will you stay?” His voice is barely audible. It’s not the Gregory I know. It catches me off guard.

“Gregory, I, this is all, we—”

“It’s fine. I get it.” The expression in his tortured eyes strikes my gut with a dagger and twists.

“Don’t do that.” I step into him and grip the tops of his arms. “Don’t put walls up, Gregory. I’m not walking away. I’m not afraid of what you’ve told me. It’s just a lot to take in.” I sigh, dropping my arms to my sides. “I just need to process everything, get my head straight before you invade it again. I’m trying to understand you and I’m grateful, so grateful, that you’ve let me in. But you
hurt
me, Gregory. Sending me away
broke
me. And you did it intentionally. For good reason or not, I can’t just forget that.”

“I get it.”

“Do you?”

“I do. But I’d like you to stay. Just, to talk. There are two bedrooms, you could go to your own bed when you’re tired.”

“No, Gregory, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.” I walk towards the door, trying not to let the emotion balled up in my throat surface.

“Scarlett, please.” His plea makes me stop and to my horror, he’s on his knees when I turn around. Gregory Ryans, powerful CEO, the man whose presence can silence a room, the man who demands control,
my
Gregory, is on his knees.

“Get up. This is not you, Gregory, you don’t belong on your knees, not for anybody.”

“You’re not anybody, Scarlett, you’re the only person who’s ever wanted to climb walls with me. You’re the
only
person who could bring me to my knees. I’m begging you to accept me because I’m miserable without you. You can have all of me, baby. You can own me.”

“I don’t want to own you, Gregory. I want you to be on the same page as me, part of a team that faces everything together. Not a team where one person runs when things get tough.”

“I can’t promise I won’t fuck up. I will. But I
want
to be everything to you. I won’t ever push you away again. And I’ll talk to you. Damn it, I’m
trying
to talk to you.”

“And I’m grateful...but I’m going to my room.”

I leave him there, on his knees, an image that threatens to tear me apart all over again.

* * *

My eyes sting as I ride the lift to my floor and walk with weak legs to my room. In his suite it was less what he said and more the look on his face, years of torture, abuse and anguish. Now, the enormity of what he told me is sinking in. Gregory had a sister. His father repeatedly raped her, beat Lara, beat him. He was helpless.

The weighted door to my room bangs heavily behind me and I fight back tears as I grab the silk shorts and cami that have been folded on my pillow. I suddenly have no energy and slump onto the end of the bed. Then like a raging storm, pain strikes my abdomen. I see his face, see him kneeling in front of me. Thirty years of torment flood my mind and the lump I’ve been fighting in my throat bursts. With a yelp, my tears come and I cry into my hands. The onslaught is uncontrollable.

How can a human being do that to another? How can a
father
do that to his daughter, his son, his wife?

And he saw.

He saw it all.

He felt every blow.

His own father stabbing his back with a serrated bottle.

He was only a boy.

I strip down and climb into the shower, desperate to wash away everything I’ve heard, wishing I could do that for Gregory. I’ve left him there, alone.

But the pain he caused me.
I slide down the wall and sit on the floor of the shower, my knees pulled into my chest, and let my tears fall. He can’t undo the past, not Pearson, not Elsa, not bribes and not the deceitful way he got me to Dubai. But now I at least understand
why
.
As perverse as it might seem, he bribed the CPS for us, for me, so that a gun wouldn’t be the reason I went to prison if the murder charge disappeared. And as much as I hate him for sending me here, he thought he was protecting me. He was afraid to love me, to hurt us both.

I get out of the shower and dry my body, then my hair, staring at myself in the mirror.
This isn’t me
.
How could I walk away from him when he needs me?

I love him.

I slip into my nightwear and wrap the hotel’s white towel robe around me. I tiptoe the corridor to the lift, as if that will prevent someone from seeing me in my robe, and head back to Gregory’s suite.

My heart and head are heavy again by the time I reach his door. I have to put my own thoughts aside. With a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and knock.

He answers the door with a towel around his waist, wet hair and a glass of Pinot Noir in his hand. As inappropriate as it might be, my sex twinges, my thighs pulse and my mouth dries.

“You came back.” His voice is stronger now but he’s still not my sexy bazillionaire CEO.

He steps away from the door for me to come in. “Would you like wine?”

“Yes, please.” My words are a dry croak.

I curl my feet under me in the corner of the L-shape sofa. Gregory hands me a glass of Pinot Noir then hesitates before sliding down to the sofa next to me, his bare chest just inches from my arm. I swallow as subtly as my rising temperature and pounding heart will allow and thank God for the white wool keeping my skin from his.

“Tell me about her. Tell me about Elsa.”

He drains his glass and leans forward to pour another, then settles back, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa, his head close to mine.

“She had long dark hair, like yours. Big brown eyes. She loved to read. She was always reading. She would tell me about her books and pretend...” he shakes his head, “...pretend she was one of the characters, living someone else’s life.”

“Did she have a favourite?”

He shrugs. “I wish I knew. There are so many things I didn’t listen to or that I’ve forgotten. I wish I could remember the good things but all my memories are clouded. I can’t think of her without seeing him and what he did. I want to remember how happy she was when we were away from him.”

Instinctively, I stroke his cheek. He swallows, his lips parted slightly, and I take my hand back. “She had this doll. A rag doll. She used to pretend she was feeding it. Christ, what was it called? I can’t remember its name. She took it everywhere. Before, before things changed.”

“For what it’s worth, Gregory, I’m sorry. More sorry than I can put into words. But I’m pleased you told me. I’m glad you trust me.”

His gaze falls to my lips. I close my eyes and sip my wine.

“Tell me there’s a chance, Scarlett. Not tonight. Not now. Just a chance.”

I take a sharp breath when my lungs cry out. “There’s a chance.”

He reaches a palm towards my face and I want to feel his touch but I whisper, “Don’t.”

He moves the ball of his hand back to his temple, propping himself up.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says.

“The night I came home and you were on the phone to Lara. The night she’d been questioned by the police. You were talking about a woman, someone the police had brought up and questioned your mother about. It was Elsa, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Another gulp of Pinot Noir. “The night Elsa killed herself, everything came out. It was as if my mother finally opened her eyes. It wasn’t uncommon in South Africa then, the beatings I mean. Elsa’s body was examined. I don’t know everything. I was ten but I still had to give a statement. It’s the only time I’ve talked about what I saw before tonight.”

“What happened to your father?”

“He was convicted of sexual assault. He was sentenced. Then Lawrence was on the scene.”

I raise my eyebrows.

He shrugs. “I’ve never asked. It doesn’t matter anymore and I’ll always be grateful to him.”

“That’s when he brought you to England?”

“Ja. He’s a good man. He loves my mother. Those are the only things I care about now.”

I slowly draw a deep breath.

“Heard enough?” he asks with a short, troubled laugh.

“I think maybe for one night.”

He takes my wine glass from me. “You’ve got work tomorrow. I’d still like you to stay...in your own room...if you want. I’d like to wake up in the same place as you.”

I nod, biting my lip nervously, unsure whether I should stay but not wanting to leave.

He lifts his fingertips to my temple and I close my eyes under his gentle touch. “Until tomorrow then.” He bends and I gasp as his soft lips press against my cheek.

“Tomorrow,” I manage.

Chapter Six

So many things make sense now that didn’t before. His violent overprotectiveness with me and with Williams’s sister. His explosive reaction to my old boss, Jack, who cornered me but never outright touched me. Gregory went out of his way to dig into Jack’s past and make sure he was put behind bars, where he couldn’t hurt women anymore. How he nearly lost his mind when I fell asleep in my office and didn’t call. That he was genuinely afraid I would have harmed myself. It seemed ridiculous then but not anymore. His fear of being loved and being
in
love. All he knew was that people he loved, people who loved him back, got hurt. And he blamed himself.

There isn’t a clock in my room but I’ve been lying under the gold satin sheets for what feels like forever, a thousand thoughts spinning through my mind. Images of him as a boy. Wishing his own father would kill him and put an end to it all. Tears. Blood.

If I’d seen those things, if I’d felt the way he must have, I’d wait for the first opportunity I had and I’d kill the bastard who dared to lay a finger on me and the people I love. As I lie here, I’m glad I killed Kevin Pearson.

Finally, Gregory can be free and truly free. He told me. He let me in. He’s been terrified of letting someone get close to him for twenty years and now...

What am I doing?

I slip out of the covers, pull my hair across one shoulder and go where I should have been for the last hour.

I bend the handle and slowly push open the door to his dark bedroom. The dim light of the moon and the twinkle of Dubai’s lights cast a low glow across the space The satin sheets of his king bed are pushed onto one side, the bed empty. I take a step into the room and notice his silhouette standing in front of the window. His arms folded across his naked chest, dark silk bottoms hanging low on his hips.

My heart races as I move towards his back. He flinches when I slide my hands down his toned biceps. Then he sighs and unfolds his arms to his sides as my lips brush his shoulders, one then the other.

God, I’ve missed the feel of his skin on mine.

I press my chest against his back, my pelvis to his firm arse. With a sharp inhale, he turns, pulling me into him. Even in the dark, I feel his mesmerising stare, connecting with every nerve and every thought in my body. His fingertips stroke my temple, down my cheek, then slide to the back of my neck.

His breath teases my lips. “Aurora.”

My stomach flips.

He presses his mouth to mine and my body melts into his kiss. I lunge forward, greedily taking his lip between my teeth as I groan under the touch I’ve missed so much. His tongue matches the swirling desperation of my own.

He holds my cheeks as he whispers my name and takes my mouth again. I move my hands over the skin of his bare back then slip my fingers into his hair, pulling him to me.

“I’ve been dreaming of this for five weeks,” I say.

“Baby, I’ve thought about you every minute of every day.”

“How can you hurt me so bad and be the only person who can fix me?”

He drops his forehead to my brow, the tip of his nose on mine. “Because we’re meant to be together, baby. I knew that the first time I met you. I think I knew I loved you the second I saw you in my boardroom. It just took me a while to get here and I’m so sorry it did. I’ll never hurt you again, I promise.”

“I know.”

“I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life protecting you.”

“I know.”

“You’re the only woman for me, Scarlett Heath. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, plain as night.”

I smile, genuinely, for the first time since he’s been here. “Day, baby. Plain as day.”

His chest chugs as a short laugh escapes his delectable lips. Our mouths meet and my tongue ravishes his. He lifts my legs around his waist and takes us to the bed. Sitting me on the edge, he slides my cami up my body, his fingertips teasing my skin. I raise my hips as he slides the shorts down my legs before standing to push his own silk bottoms to the floor, revealing himself, proud and ready.

Raising my chin with his index finger and thumb, he pushes his lips against mine, then lifts me back up the bed. My legs slip wide as he crawls between them. The weight of his body between my thighs presses his hard length against my stomach, a feeling I savour. He leans forward, resting his forearms either side of my head, and strokes my hair back from my brow.

“Kiss me,” I beg.

He does. At first, soft and tender. Then his pace quickens, the force of his mouth, the turn of his tongue, and I match him, stroke for stroke, both groaning into each other. I press my hips up against his solid erection and he pushes his pelvis back against me in response.

“I’ve never wanted anything so much. You own me,” he whispers, grinding against me.

He moves his mouth to my neck and I shift my head to one side as he sucks and nibbles, working his way to my collarbone, gently blowing warm air across my skin. Taking his weight on one arm, he cups my breast in his other hand and tweaks the already hardening nipple. I close my eyes and tilt my head back. Then his mouth is wrapped around the sensitive tip, a feeling that speaks to my entire body. I squeeze my thighs around his hips as his teeth take over and pull my flesh, somewhere between pain and pleasure, sending my insides into turmoil.

He kisses my sternum and starts working a line down my navel. My back arches as he reaches the bottom of my stomach. In my mind I’m begging him to move three inches lower but my words are lost in heavy pants as I squirm beneath him.

He waits, hovering, not touching me, sending me into a frenzy. Then he blows gently from the bottom of my stomach. A line. Down. Down.

I gasp as his breath caresses the top of my sex. He parts me with his fingers and continues his trail of hot air, my hips jolting forward when he strokes my swollen clit.

“Gregory.” His name leaves my mouth as a desperate cry. “Please.”

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

My fevered muscles respond to his words, tightening.

“You. I need you.”

He leans forward and offers two fingers to my mouth. I take them slowly from the base, sucking them like I would his cock as a low rumble escapes his chest. Then he shocks me by moving his wet fingers straight to my arse, slowly stroking them over my hole. He bends towards me and my entire body stills in anticipation. He makes me wait, enhancing my yearning to have him. Then his tongue meets my clit and he pushes his fingers into my aching sex, the double assault making me cry out, my back arch higher, my head fall back against the bed.

“You’re so wet, baby.”

He moves his fingers, working me in circles, stroking my spot in time to the whirl of his tongue around my bud, building me to an orgasm I’ve desired for too long. My hands move to his hair, keeping his head right where I need him to be. He removes his fingers and slides his tongue down, dipping inside me, tantalising the charged skin of my entrance. My breaths speed up, coming fast and heavy, my mind clouding in a heady euphoria.

My insides tense, craving his depth. As if reading my mind, his fingers are back inside me, two, then three, taking me higher. As his tongue strikes a line over my clit, my shoulders rise from the bed, I reach out my hands and grip the bedsheets.

“Gregory!”

“Come for me, baby. I want to see what I do to you.”

He rams his fingers hard into me. His tongue continues to swirl my clit. My muscles spasm and he groans, a sound I feel against my sex, my undoing.

I scream his name as I unravel around those magic fingers on an earth shattering orgasm.

Before I even open my eyes, his mouth captures my heavy pants. His hips lean against mine, his body rests on one firm arm and the fingers of his other hand stroke hair from my damp temple.

“How could it have taken me so long?” He inhales the words like he’s asking himself the question.

My heart is pumping blood through my veins so hard and fast I think it might explode. I couldn’t love him anymore than I do, physically, mentally. Despite everything, I never want to be apart from him again. I want him, just as he is, flaws and all.

Hooking my arms around his waist, I pull his body closer to mine, seduced by his moan against my lips. “Make love to me, Gregory.”

“Baby, you don’t have a choice.”

He slides one hand between us and guides himself to my entrance. My legs part further and he slides slowly into me, filling me, making me whole again. As he draws out, his tongue wraps around mine and takes me to a world where only Gregory and I exist. A place where nothing and no one can wound us.

He moves slowly, his hips rotating with every delicious drive forward. My still-high insides work up again.

He rolls us, his hot, damp chest pressing against mine until he’s lying under me, his hands roaming every inch of the skin on my back. I drop my mouth to his neck and taste his saltiness, smelling sex on his flesh. I rise to my knees, pushing him deeper into me as I keep his rhythm and move in circles around his erection.

He grabs my breasts, cupping, stroking, tweaking the ends. My hips quicken, and I dig my hands into my hair as he lifts me higher. Then his hands are on my hips, slowing my rotations around him.

“I don’t want this feeling to end,” he whispers.

He’s so damn beautiful I can’t resist him. I lean forward and get lost in his kiss, unable to stop myself from building to the brink. My walls grip his thick cock.

His low growl into my mouth drives me higher as he rolls us again, quicker this time, and he’s back on top of me, my legs locked around his waist. He leans forward on straight arms and his controlled thrusts intensify, pounding relentlessly until I can feel him swell the last bit. He’s close and the thought sends my muscles into spasm.

“Gregory!”

“Together, baby.”

I squeeze his hips with my legs as my climax courses through me.

“Jesus, Scarlett!”

He fills me, pulsing and thrusting, over and over, until his body trembles and he falls forward onto my chest, gently rotating his hips until every last drop of pleasure is taken from us both.

He rests his cheek against my sternum and strokes lazy fingers up and down my arm. This is right. This is exactly how things are supposed to be.

I wake in the night and smile when I feel his arm wrapped around me, pulling me onto his bare pec. I shuffle so I can see his peaceful, beautiful face and watch him sleep beneath me until a contented sleep consumes me again.

* * *

He sits at the head of the dining table, multiple cloched dishes surrounding him, a jug of fresh orange in the middle of the table next to a large carafe of coffee. His hair looks roguish and bed messy in the most attractive way. His captivating half smile pulls on his lips when he spots me.

“Gregory, about last night. I think... I think it was a mistake.”

His smile disappears. Then I wink and bring it right back.

“Good morning, Miss Heath.”

Standing behind him, I pull my fingers through his hair then press my lips to his scalp, inhaling his scent. “Mr. Ryans.”

He takes my hand and presses my knuckles to his lips. I waste no time in stealing a kiss, enjoying the reminder of just how tender my own lips feel.

“What do we have here?” I ask, looking around the table. I take a cloche from the plate at the setting next to Gregory and grin.

“Your favourite.”

I slip into a chair as Gregory pours me coffee, then I dig into my pancakes with crispy bacon and syrup. I can feel his eyes burning into me.

“What are you thinking about, Mr. Ryans?”

He takes my hand and turns his thumb slowly across the top. “Come home with me.”

Mr. Ghurair. Two deals. The firm. These are the things that sense should bring to the front of my mind but all I see is him, us.

He pushes my chair away from the table and he’s on his knees in front of me, holding my cheeks in his palms. “I’ll never hurt you again, Scarlett. You’re everything to me. My whole world.”

“What have I told you about being on your knees?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“If you remember, I never wanted to be here in the first place.” He rolls his jaw as he resumes his seat at the table. He’s keeping a lid on his temper and so he should, too, he has no right to be angry in this. “I don’t know if I can leave. There are some conversations I’ll need to have.”

He nods. “Your firm.”

“Yes. And of course, thanks to you, I’ll have to deal with Neil Wallace and undo the commitment you made on my behalf. God, imagine what he’ll say. It’s probably a good time to share with you my sincere gratitude for limiting my career progression.” I drop my fork onto my plate somewhat petulantly.

People don’t stand up to Gregory. I can almost feel him fighting to find a response that isn’t to wipe the floor with me. He takes a breath. “You’re a good lawyer, Scarlett. The firm knows that and so does Neil.”

“Is that what you’d say if it was one of your employees?”

“No. And I take your point. So...if you want to stay, we’ll make it work. I’ll fly out, be here whenever I can.”

The bloody arse has called my bluff.
He might be wearing his poker face but he knows it, too.

“As it happens, I have actually been thinking about trying to move back to London sooner than planned. But that does
not
get you off the hook. I, erm, I’ve sold my father’s house.” I search his face for concern, waiting for the realisation that I’m about to be homeless to hit him, but his lips are straight.

“I know.”

“How do you—Jackson?”

“Yes and I think what you’re doing for Sandy is incredible.”

The money. “Well, it’s no more than she deserves after all the years.”

“Still, two hundred and fifty thousand pounds when you’re not—Well, it’s extremely generous.”

I shrug. “I was hoping she’d use some of it for the wedding. I think she and Jackson are only waiting because of the cost but she won’t use it. I can’t manage to convince her that my father would be happy for her to use some of it on a wedding. I just want her to be happy.”

“They aren’t
un
happy, Scarlett.”