‘You agreed to this marriage.’ He ran his finger over the band, soothing the red skin there, and after a moment she stopped trying to pull it away again. Progress. ‘You even pushed this ring into place. Nobody forced you into anything, and the only thing you signed before we said our vows was a meaningless invitation.’
‘I know that.’ She sounded irritable now. Flynn never imagined that could be a step up from seductive but, under the circumstances, he was happy to go with it. ‘And I know we need the paperwork so that we can get out of this whole mess neatly when the time comes—’
‘That’s not why.’ They were married now. It was time to disabuse her of any notion that this marriage was a temporary thing for him. ‘We need it so that you can be my wife, completely, without any of this confusion or people talking about us. We need it to make us official. Legitimate.’
Helena’s eyes narrowed and she pulled her hand from his, but he could still feel the phantom memory of the cool metal of her ring against his fingertips.
‘You mean to make you legitimate,’ she said, her glare accusing. ‘You need the paperwork to prove you’re really part of the family. You think it’ll make it easier for you as CEO when your dad steps down, now Zeke’s gone.’
‘That’s part of it,’ Flynn allowed. ‘But not all.’
Helena stood, shifting so her weight was on one leg and her hip cocked out for her hand to rest on it. It emphasised the curve of her waist in a way Flynn really shouldn’t be thinking about right now, and he tried to focus on the unhappy curl of her lips rather than anything below them.
‘Really?’ she asked, sounding unconvinced. ‘Then tell me this. If you’d married Thea today, would you be down here drinking brandy alone? Or would you be in bed with her right now?’
CHAPTER FIVE
HELENA ALMOST DIDN’T want to hear the answer. It was a stupid question—one that neither of them could escape from now it’d been asked. Maybe that was for the best. If things had gone to plan, Flynn would have married her sister today. She knew that Thea hadn’t loved him, but she’d never really given much thought to how Flynn felt about Thea. She’d just assumed, given his usual pragmatic, spreadsheet-based approach to the whole thing, that it was a business convenience.
She’d even wondered idly once or twice if Flynn was gay and his marriage to Thea an elaborate cover to hide the truth from Ezekiel. Heaven knew the old man was hidebound and rigid about everything else. No reason to assume that he’d deal with a son who liked men any better than he’d dealt with a son who ran out and abandoned the family business like Zeke had.
Flynn wasn’t gay. No gay guy could have kissed her the way he had at the reception. And, besides, she knew when a guy wanted her—and Flynn’s eyes when she’d walked in had spoken volumes. Lusty volumes of erotic poetry.
He wanted her. But he wasn’t going to take her, even offered up on a plate. In Helena’s experience, there were limited reasons for that sort of restraint—and they usually came down to being faithful to someone else.
What if Flynn had really loved Thea? What if he was heartbroken right now, drowning his sorrows in brandy while she swanned in wearing white satin and tried to seduce him?
Could she have made a bigger mess of this? But there was no going back now. She needed to know the truth.
‘Tell me honestly, Flynn. Would you have slept with Thea tonight?’ she asked again, and Flynn’s gaze slipped away from hers.
‘Probably.’ His shoulders lifted slightly then slumped. ‘We’d talked about...well...getting to know each other as man and wife, from the start.’
Helena’s jaw tightened. She could almost imagine the conversation, probably squeezed in between a meeting about the quarterly projections and a client presentation. Thea, cool and calm and business-like, the way she only ever was when she was working, not dating. Flynn, as unflappable as ever, giving equal gravity to the budget and his sex life.
One of them had probably even said the words: in the interest of mutual satisfaction or something.
‘But it was different with Thea,’ Flynn said, a hint of apology in his voice. ‘We were...well, I was...’
In love, Helena finished for him in her head. And that was something Helena couldn’t match up to. She’d thought she could be enough for him, for now. But not if he was in love with her sister.
Flynn sighed. ‘We had paperwork,’ he said in the end, as if that explained everything.
For Flynn, it probably did.
‘That’s all you want from this marriage? Paperwork?’ Helena gripped the back of the chair she stood behind, keeping it between them like a shield. A screen, at least. How humiliating to be having this conversation in almost see-through nightwear. How had this ever seemed like a good idea?
‘No.’ That was his firm voice. His don’t-mess-with-me business voice. She’d heard of it, mostly from Thea, but he’d never used it on her before. They’d never been close enough for him to have the opportunity, not since she was fifteen.
‘Then what do you want?’ She didn’t care if she was pleading. She needed to make sense of this if she hoped to have any chance of sleeping tonight. She swept a hand down the side of her negligee. ‘You don’t want this. You don’t want happily ever after. But you don’t seem to want a quickie divorce either. Whatever happens next, we’re stuck with each other for at least the next two weeks. So tell me—what is it you do want?’
‘I want a wife. I want paperwork. I want something to follow the plan just once.’ He grabbed his glass and downed the remaining brandy. Helena just stared at him. Was that Flynn losing his temper? she wondered. She’d never seen it before. And still, it seemed so...insubstantial.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, as if he’d thrown the glass at her or something. ‘It’s just...it’s been a long day, and not one bit of it has gone the way I expected. I’m still...adjusting.’
To being married to the wrong woman. To losing the woman he’d actually wanted to marry. She couldn’t even blame him.
‘Right,’ she said, as if her life hadn’t been turned upside down a couple of times in the last twenty-four hours, too. ‘I can understand that.’
Flynn looked up, his eyes red and tired. ‘For you too, I know. It’s been...’
‘One hell of a day.’
‘Yeah.’ They stared at each other for a long moment, and Helena felt the knowledge that she was tied to this man, for better or for worse, sinking into her bones in a way it never had when she’d said the words.
This was her future, whatever happened next. He’d always be her husband, even if he became an ex. They were joined—and she didn’t understand the first thing about him.
This Flynn, the one she’d seen tonight, was nothing like the one her fourteen-year-old self had thought herself in love with. He wasn’t kind, noble and knowing. He wasn’t even the unfeeling, emotionally detached man she’d assumed he had to be to deal with his fiancée running out on him. This Flynn cared. He felt. He hurt.
And this was the man she’d married. The man she intended to keep secrets from until they could unmarry.
‘I should...’ She wiggled her fingers towards the door. ‘Sleep would probably help. Both of us.’
‘Yeah.’ Flynn sighed. ‘I’ll head up in a moment, too. I just have one phone call to make.’
‘Now? It’s two in the morning, Flynn.’
‘I know. But this can’t wait.’
‘I’ll never understand that,’ she admitted. ‘You and your dad—and Thea. The way you’re married to the business. I mean...’ She winced as she realised what she’d said.
But it didn’t seem to register with Flynn. ‘This isn’t business.’
Not business? Then who would take his call at two a.m.? Unless...was he phoning Thea? She didn’t want to know if he was.
Helena turned to leave, but p
aused in the doorway as she remembered her original plan for their sleeping arrangements—before the negligee and the discovery that her husband might well be in love with her sister, even now.
‘I thought...maybe it would be a good idea for you to sleep in my old room? Tonight, at least. I had the maid move your things. It’s right next to the bridal suite, so it makes it a little less likely for you to be caught out on the other side of the building in the morning, when you’re supposed to be ravishing your new wife.’
He actually flinched at the words and Helena swallowed down the spike of pain she felt at that. No, she definitely wasn’t enough for Flynn Ashton, even after everything she’d done today.
‘Okay. I’ll do that then. I’ll see you in the morning, Helena.’ He said it kindly, a sop to her poor hopeful ideas of a night with her husband.
‘Yeah. In the morning.’
Maybe things would look brighter with the sunrise. They sure couldn’t look much darker.
* * *
Flynn didn’t sleep much.
He’d woken his solicitor up the moment Helena left and asked him to book a flight over to discuss the new marriage contract. Explaining why that was necessary hadn’t been fun, and he rather suspected he’d have to do it again in the morning anyway, once Henry was properly awake. Even the best contract solicitor in London needed a little time to surface from sleep before his brilliance began to shine.
That vital task performed, he’d headed up to bed, pausing at the top of the stairs while he considered his options. Helena had a point; sleeping in her old room would make the chance of discovery in the morning less likely. And since apparently his stuff was already there anyway, he’d trudged off in the direction of the bridal suite, letting himself into the room next door. And if his body tugged him towards another door, another bed, another body, well, he resisted. Just.
But lying in sheets that still smelled of her perfume, of roses, of her skin, made it impossible not to think of Helena. His wife.
He’d hurt her tonight, he’d seen it in her eyes, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said wrong. Everything, probably. He was out of practice at dealing with women. For the past few years, it had only been Thea for him, and that wasn’t exactly a normal relationship. One of the most reassuring parts of it was being able to discuss things openly and clearly, without misunderstandings.
But with Helena...they didn’t have that grounding. And so he’d miscalculated and caused her pain. So now he needed to try and find a way to fix that and make sure it didn’t happen again.
Henry’s arrival should solve the second part of that. Once they had their expectations down on paper, things would get easier between them. But making things up to her...that was all on him.
* * *
Flynn eventually drifted off thinking of ways to improve relations with his wife, only to be awoken by his internal clock a mere three hours later. Six a.m. on the dot; he knew without checking his phone. It always was. He’d been waking up at six for so long now he couldn’t sleep in if he wanted to.
Actually, today he wanted to. If he could sleep, he would miss the departing parents and family. Helena could get over last night with coffee and breakfast, and by the time he finally emerged the world would be stable and right again.
Flynn sighed, rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. Heat and steam were the next best thing to sleep, anyway.
Clean and awake, Flynn towelled off and reached for his usual suit before remembering that he was on holiday. More than that, he was on his honeymoon. It might not resemble what other people expected from a honeymoon, but it was the best he was going to get. And he certainly wasn’t going to wear a suit for it.
Even if he suspected that today, his first day of marriage, would look very similar to every other day that had come before it. He had work to do, as ever. And he had to review the marriage agreement he’d had with Thea before Henry arrived.
But first he had to make sure his parents actually left for London. At least, with them gone, he wouldn’t have to worry about Ezekiel meddling or Isabella upsetting Helena.
Of course, with the departure of everyone else, it would just be him and Helena left together. Alone.
And that, Flynn decided, could get very interesting indeed. At the very least, it would give him a solid chance to make things up to his new wife.
All the more reason to make sure that Henry got there soon.
* * *
Helena woke the morning after her wedding, just as she’d gone to bed: alone. Why on earth did that feel like a surprise? she wondered as she lay back on the luxurious sheets and stared at the ceiling.
Here she was, the first day of her honeymoon, and she wasn’t sure she was going to see her husband at all. Wasn’t sure that she wanted to either.
Except their parents were leaving that morning. He’d have to be there to see them off, right?
And if Flynn was there, did she really have to be there too?
Helena sighed. Sadly, yes, she did. This was the first full day of the charade that was set to take over her life for the next however long—the act of being a devoted and dutiful wife. At least, with the remaining guests and family gone, the only people she’d have to keep it up for were the villa staff—until they got home to London, anyway.
Dragging herself out of bed, she showered and dressed quickly before heading down to the entrance hall, her still damp hair curling around her shoulders.
‘The car for the airport is here,’ Flynn said, walking in through the front door just as she came down the stairs.
‘Unlike the people it’s here to transport.’ Helena looked pointedly around the empty hallway, trying to ignore the way her heart jumped, just a little, at the sight of him. Could she be more pathetic? He might have married her, but he’d made it very clear that all he wanted was the paperwork.
They stared at each other for a long moment and Helena felt the cool stone walls pressing in as the silence between them grew. She’d never had a problem finding things to talk to Flynn—or anyone else—about before, but all of a sudden it was as if the rings they wore had sucked all the small talk out of them.
We’re good at this, she reminded herself desperately. We’re the ones who keep the conversation going, who smooth over the awkward silences and the embarrassing comments!
But apparently that skill only worked with people they weren’t married to. Or when one of them hadn’t turned down a wedding night in the marital bed, at least. Great.
‘Maybe I should go and check on them,’ Flynn said eventually, moving towards the stairs. Helena tried to dodge out of his way, but miscalculated, her foot slipping on the bottom few steps.
She reached for the banister but Flynn was there first, grabbing her around the waist with both arms to keep her upright.
Helena waited for her heartbeat to return to normal speed now she was safe. It didn’t.
Looking up, she saw honest concern in Flynn’s golden caramel eyes. His very close eyes. Not far from his very close lips. So close, in fact, that she’d only have to move a centimetre or two and they’d be kissing. Like they’d done after the speeches. And that kiss had hinted at so much more...
Until he’d turned down her advances just a few hours later. The memory of his dismissal settled over her like a cold shower.
‘Just look at you two lovebirds! Such a beautiful sight.’ Isabella’s voice rang out across the hallway, echoing off the stone walls as she descended the stairs. Flynn pulled away so quickly that Helena ended up grabbing the banister anyway. So much for chivalry.
‘Let me help you with that, Mother.’ Flynn jogged up the stairs to take his mother’s suitcase from her and carried it down. ‘Where are Dad and Thomas?’
Isabella rolled her eyes. ‘In the study, I believe. Last-minute business meeting before our flight.’
Helena saw the look of irritation that crossed Flynn’s face, but Isabella either missed or chose to ignore it. Feeling left out, was he? She supposed she’d better prepare herself for two weeks of him sloping off to check his email and taking business calls during lunch.
That was if they spent any time together at all. What if he just intended to work all through the honeymoon?
Helena shook away the thought. She had to look on the bright side or she was going to go mad. So what if her husband had better things to do on their honeymoon than spend time with her? That just gave her more opportunities to go exploring, to see more of the country, maybe go back to that pretty jewellery shop she’d found with Thea in the nearest town. She could treat herself to something pretty then have lunch in that little trattoria. Maybe flirt with a nice Italian man... The thought stopped abruptly.
She couldn’t do that any more, could she? Not now she was married. And especially not once she signed Flynn’s blasted paperwork with its ironclad fidelity clause. Not that she had any particular plans to go out and pick up a guy or anything. It wasn’t really her style, was it? But she did like men, had several close male friends and enjoyed the warm buzz she got from flirting with them, just a little, even knowing that they would never do anything about it.
But that was off the table now. Flynn would probably have private detectives following her around, photographing her having lunch and researching every man she ever spoke to. And if he didn’t, his father certainly would.
Yeah, she really hadn’t thought this whole thing through.
A door opened just down the corridor and she heard her father’s laugh as he and Ezekiel emerged from their conference, dragging their cases behind them.
‘All ready?’ Flynn asked the men. ‘The car for the airport is here.’
Ezekiel nodded and one of the villa staff darted forward to take their cases out to the car. Flynn followed with Isabella’s. Helena stood awkwardly, waiting for whatever happened next. The moment they left, everything would change again and she was beginning to fear that her bright attitude wasn’t going to last a full two weeks.
His Very Convenient Bride Page 7