‘What?’ Helena curled her fingers in to keep her ring right where it was, thank you very much.
‘You can’t wear it yet,’ Flynn said with exaggerated patience. ‘I need to propose properly with it.’
‘You also need to pay for it.’ The shop assistant gave them a not entirely patient smile, and Flynn laughed.
‘Very true. Perhaps we can have a ring box?’
As the shop assistant rang up the total, Helena reluctantly slipped her sapphire off her finger and placed it in the velvet box on the counter. Everything about this marriage might be backwards, she thought, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work.
Flynn had picked out her perfect ring when she didn’t even know what she was looking for. What other marvels might he work in her life if she gave him the chance?
* * *
They were almost home when his phone rang.
‘I’m sorry,’ Flynn said, yanking it out of his pocket. ‘Do you mind?’
Helena shook her head. ‘Go on. I think you’ve earned at least one business call today.’
He flashed her a smile as he answered. He knew that the engagement ring idea was a good one. When in doubt, buy jewellery—his mother’s entire contribution to his education about how to treat women might not have been lengthy, but it worked.
‘Henry. I hope you’re calling with good news.’ And flight numbers, preferably. He wanted everything he and Helena had discussed down on paper before anything changed. And especially before they had to go back to London and deal with their families again. If anything was going to screw things up between them, Flynn would place money on it being Ezekiel Ashton—even if he didn’t mean to.
‘Afraid not.’ Henry sounded harassed. Henry never sounded anything other than cool and collected, even when Flynn woke him up at two in the morning. This was not a good sign. ‘Can you talk?’
The car swept up the driveway of the villa, stopping right by the front door. ‘Yeah, I can talk. Just one moment.’
‘Let me guess,’ Helena said as the driver cut the engine. ‘You need to work.’
‘Just a little. But we’ll have dinner together?’
‘Definitely.’ Helena grinned. ‘You’ve got something to give me later.’
‘That’s right, I do.’ Once again, jewellery saved him from himself. ‘I’ll see you for dinner.’ Opening the car door, he stepped out and strode towards the villa. ‘Henry? I’m here. What’s happening?’
‘I need you to make a decision about priorities,’ Henry said as Flynn let himself into the villa and headed for the room his father had been using as his study. Ezekiel wasn’t there any more and it only made sense for him to use it. The symbolism of taking over his father’s desk was purely accidental, if rather satisfying.
‘Priorities?’ Flynn sat himself in the desk chair. With his laptop and files set up down there it already felt more like his own space. He’d already spent a decent amount of time there and, with another week or so of their honeymoon to go, the chances were he’d be spending a lot more. Just not so much as to alienate Helena.
See? He had his priorities straight.
‘Which is more important to you: your post-nuptial agreement or the contracts for the sale of This Minute to Morrison-Ashton?’ Henry asked.
‘You mean the contracts that compel my father to make me CEO, in return for Zeke selling us his company,’ Flynn clarified. They both knew his interest in those contracts of sale had less to do with the digital media company his brother had built up and more to do with his own future at Morrison-Ashton. ‘Why? What’s gone wrong with them?’
‘Your father is contesting rather a lot of the details.’ Flynn got the impression that Henry was understating things there. Ezekiel Ashton would fight tooth and nail to retain control of that company until they put him in his grave. But Flynn had faith in Zeke. He’d said it was a done deal and that meant it would be, eventually—however hard and long their father fought it. ‘Your brother’s legal team are doing an admirable job, but I think you might want me here to help smooth the path from our side. Just to make sure that he doesn’t manage to slip anything in there that could hold up his stepping down from the CEO position.’
‘Henry, are you trying to get out of a paid holiday in Tuscany for a couple of days?’ Flynn kicked his feet up on the desk and leant back in his desk chair.
Henry laughed. ‘I might be trying to not gate-crash your honeymoon, but only for business reasons, I promise you.’
‘Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to gate-crash,’ Flynn told him. ‘We’ve got to get that marriage contract signed.’
‘Things going that badly, huh?’ Henry asked, his tone sympathetic.
‘The opposite, actually.’ Flynn let himself remember the look on Helena’s face when she’d seen her ring. ‘It’s going very, very well. And I don’t want to give my father the chance to ruin that.’
‘You think he will?’ Henry sounded surprised. ‘I know he wasn’t entirely happy about you marrying the wrong sister, but does it really make that much difference?’
‘Do you know, Henry, I think it will. To me, anyway.’ He couldn’t say how. It had been less than a week. But already his relationship with Helena felt more like a...well...relationship than things with Thea ever had.
‘You’re sounding smitten, my friend.’
‘I’m a newlywed,’ Flynn joked. ‘I’m supposed to be besotted with my wife. Whoever she turns out to be.’
Henry laughed. ‘Well, okay, then. But if things are so hunky-dory with the new Mrs Ashton, what’s the worry?’
‘It was made very clear to me by my father and his esteemed business partner that unless I return from this trip with a signed and notarised post-nuptial agreement, they would take it into their own hands to get one. I want this marriage to be on my terms—mine and Helena’s. That means we need you here to make that legal.’
‘Fair enough.’ Flynn heard the clicking of a mouse on the other end of the line. ‘Best flight I can get has me with you tomorrow mid-morning. Will that work?’
‘Perfect.’ That gave him tonight to wine and dine Helena, propose, kiss her goodnight. Just one more frustrated night in his own bed and then they could sign the papers and make this a real marriage at last.
‘I’ll get it booked,’ Henry promised. ‘But, Flynn...make sure you’re both on the same page before I get there, yeah? You know these things always go more smoothly when there are no surprises.’
‘I know. Don’t worry. Helena and I aren’t the secretive types.’ Compared to Thea, Helena was an open book. And he didn’t have any more brothers for her to declare undying love for, so he figured he was probably safe there too.
‘Then I’ll see you two lovebirds tomorrow,’ Henry said and hung up.
Flynn dropped his phone on to the desk and pulled the ring box out of his pocket, opening it to admire the deep blue stone at the heart of the ring. He’d clear his emails and then still have time to shower and change before dinner.
He smiled to himself. Just another hour or so and it would be time to propose to his wife.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HELENA WOUND THE last string of lights along the beams of the terrace and stood back to admire her handiwork. Not bad, if she did say so herself. The table for two—complete with white linen napkins and flickering candlelight—was all prepared, and the fairy lights she’d found left over from the wedding decorations were perfect for giving their little terrace dinner table the right romantic atmosphere—far better than they’d managed in the formal dining room the last few days. The flowers climbing the stone walls added a heady, spicy scent in the last of the day’s sunlight, and the air was still warm enough that she didn’t need the wrap she’d brought out with her.
She smoothed down her blue silk dress and tucked a blonde curl behind her ea
r. She was ready, the table was ready. The wine she’d brought from Gia’s vineyard was open on the table, ready for pouring, and the cook had promised her that dinner would be ready at exactly seven-thirty.
It was the perfect night to get engaged.
All she needed now was her husband.
She turned to let the warm evening breeze brush over her skin as she stared out across the beautiful Tuscan countryside. It was almost a shame to have to go back to London at all, she thought. Out here, all things seemed possible.
Possible enough that she’d put on her best lingerie under her dress, anyway.
‘Okay, this kind of spontaneous romance I am absolutely in favour of.’
Helena turned at the sound of Flynn’s voice and found him leaning against the doorway between the terrace and the house, his gaze fixed not on the romantic trappings she’d set up, but firmly upon her.
‘Actually,’ she admitted, ‘this is the kind of romance that takes planning. I got Gia to smuggle the wine into the car when you were preoccupied with your phone earlier.’
‘So, you were planning this even before our ring-shopping expedition?’ Flynn stepped closer and Helena could feel her skin warming and the little fine hairs on her arms standing up as he grew nearer. How had she never known how he affected her until she married him?
‘Long before. Can’t a girl want a romantic night in with her husband?’
‘She most certainly can.’ He put a hand on her waist and Helena only just resisted the urge to snuggle up close against his chest. ‘Especially when she wears a dress like yours.’
‘You like it?’ She stepped back far enough to give him a quick twirl, the silky pleats of her dress rising up a little around her thighs as she turned.
‘I adore it. You look beautiful. Even more beautiful than you did in the vineyard earlier, with the sun in your hair and your gorgeous bright smile.’
‘You thought I was beautiful then?’ That had also been before their conversation in the restaurant—before she’d agreed to stay with him. Maybe he had more reasons to want her to stay than just his plans for the future.
Maybe he did really want her to stay, not just any girl bearing the right surname.
‘I couldn’t believe I’d never seen quite how beautiful you are before.’ His gaze locked with hers as he spoke, and his irises seemed lit up by the fading sunlight until they looked like poured caramel. Helena swayed closer to him without thinking, as if there was simply nowhere else she should or could be. He caught her around the waist, arms strong and warm as he pulled her near.
‘You know, I had a big lunch...’ Helena trailed off as she licked her lips, and watched Flynn’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.
He wanted her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him and, whatever his reasons for sending her to bed like a child on their wedding night, tonight, this night, he was hers. One way or another she was taking her husband to bed—before she lost her nerve completely.
Or so she thought until he dropped his arms from her waist and stepped away.
‘Dinner is served!’ The maid stepped on to the terrace, plates in her hands, and Flynn strode across to pull Helena’s chair out for her.
Helena pouted at him, and he laughed. The maid, forehead creased, wisely placed their meals on the table and disappeared back into the villa.
‘Come on, sit down.’ Flynn rattled her chair a little against the stone of the terrace. ‘I want to do this properly.’
‘I suppose.’ Helena took her seat, let Flynn push her chair in. At least she’d asked the cook for just a pasta main and a pudding, since they’d had lunch out already. Maybe they could take the dessert up to bed with them...
The long strands of pasta, wrapped in a deeply savoury ragu, were delicious, Helena had to admit. As she twirled them expertly around her fork and sipped at the gorgeous red wine, courtesy of Gia, she thought there were worse ways to spend the evening.
‘So, is London missing you, then?’ she asked, thinking of the phone call that had dragged him from her earlier.
‘Oh, I expect they’re enjoying the peace, quite honestly.’ Flynn gave her a half smile. ‘Apart from my solicitor, who I woke up at two o’clock the other morning.’
‘So that’s who you were calling. I did wonder who could be important enough to let me go up to bed alone...’ Helena watched his face closely as she spoke and yes, there it was. A hint of uncertainty, an uncomfortable twist of the mouth.
She put down her fork.
He’d asked her to spend her life with him. They’d bought a ring. He’d called her beautiful...and he still didn’t plan to sleep with her tonight.
There was definitely something odd going on here.
‘That’s who was calling earlier, too,’ Flynn went on, as if Helena hadn’t just uncovered a problem of major proportions in their marriage. ‘Apparently my father is being difficult about the contracts for the sale of This Minute, as expected. Nothing to worry about, though. Zeke’s legal team are, by all accounts, very capable.’
‘That’s good.’ Somehow, she had a feeling that the people Zeke would have put on the job wouldn’t just be capable. They’d be relentless, and they’d take Ezekiel Ashton for everything they wanted before they gave him what Zeke had promised.
She didn’t have a problem with that, actually. Especially after her conversation with Flynn at lunchtime.
No, Helena’s only problem so far this evening was a husband who didn’t want to sleep with her—or wouldn’t let himself want it. And that was far more important right now than a manipulative father-in-law with a Zeus complex.
They finished their pasta in companionable silence, but Helena barely tasted it. Any moment now, she knew, Flynn was going to get down on one knee and present her with the most perfect ring and ask her to share her life with him.
But how could she promise to do that without finding out if they were compatible in bed? If she could relax enough to let herself be with him? Or if there was some reason she should know about that meant they might never even find out?
The maid cleared their dishes silently. Flynn smiled at her and said, ‘We’ll wait a moment on dessert, if that’s okay. I’ll call you when we’re ready,’ and Helena knew this was it.
She’d dreamt, as a younger girl, about proposals—maybe even more than she’d dreamt about weddings and wedding nights. She’d imagined herself falling in love, having some handsome man drop to his knees and beg her to marry him. She’d even thought about the perfect way to respond—amazed joy, she’d decided, was best. Hand to the mouth, perhaps, and an enthusiastic, Of course I will!
She’d never imagined it would be like this.
‘I know this isn’t going to come as much of a surprise to you.’ Flynn reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box, grinning at her all the while. ‘But I want you to have the full experience. So...’ He stood up, moved around to her side of the table and gracefully lowered himself to one knee. ‘Helena Juliette Ashton. Would you do me the incredible honour of agreeing to remain my wife and live our very own happily ever after together?’
Amazed joy, Helena tried to remind herself. Enthusiasm. Happiness. Saying yes.
But instead, what came out of her mouth was, ‘Why don’t you want to sleep with me?’
‘What on earth could have given you that idea?’ Flynn asked, his hand still holding out the open ring box. Helena merely raised her eyebrows at him and watched as his gaze slid from her face down to that perfect sapphire. ‘Trust me—I want to make love to you very much.’
Helen frowned. He was telling the truth. Hadn’t she seen it in his eyes, felt it in his touch, known it even when he’d kissed her after the speeches on their wedding day? So maybe she was asking the wrong question.
‘Okay then, why won’t you?’
‘Is this really the t
ime you want to have this conversation?’
‘I think it’s something that shouldn’t wait any longer,’ Helena said. ‘But you can, you know, stand up if that’s easier.’
‘Right. Because that’s the biggest problem with this conversation.’ Nevertheless, Flynn pushed himself up to standing then dragged his chair across to sit beside her.
‘So?’ she asked when he sat looking at her, not saying anything.
Flynn sighed. ‘So. Of course I want to sleep with you. You’re my wife. You’re beautiful. I care about you and I hope to have a future with you. But...’
Oh, no. Where was this going? Even in her panic, Helena didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t done it before, and she knew he wasn’t in love with Thea, so what was it? Even if he had some purity, ‘waiting until marriage’ thing going on, they were already married!
‘Before we take that step, before we start something that will hopefully lead to a deeper affection between us, I think it’s important that we agree certain things about our future together.’
Helena blinked. ‘Isn’t that what we did at lunch? What we’re doing now, with the ring and all?’
‘Partly,’ Flynn said. Why wasn’t he meeting her eyes? ‘But, for it to be truly official, we do need the post-nuptial agreement to be signed and filed. Should anything happen, it’s important that these things have been formalised.’
Helena stared at him. ‘Flynn. Please, please tell me that you’re not refusing to sleep with me because of paperwork.’
Dropping his head to stare at his hands, Flynn gave a sort of half laugh. ‘It does sound that way, doesn’t it?’
‘Wanna try and make it sound a different way?’ Helena suggested.
‘Okay.’ Flynn sucked in a deep breath and sat back in his chair, letting the air out slowly. A delaying tactic, Helena recognised. He was figuring out the best way to say whatever he had to say, which meant she probably wasn’t going to like it.
‘The other night, before you came in wearing that incredible satin thing—that’s still upstairs, right? I really want to see you in that again some time when I can appreciate it properly.’
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