Читать книгу Welcome to Mills & Boon - Jennifer Rae - Страница 30
ОглавлениеHELENA 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 ear. 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 time 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.’
‘It is.’ A faint warmth hit Helena’s cheeks. So far he wasn’t doing so badly.
‘Good. Anyway. Before that, I had a meeting with our fathers that left me in a...not great mood. But it also got me thinking.’ He looked up, his serious eyes focused on hers. ‘The moment we sleep together, we’ve changed the game. There’s no hope of an annulment when we get back. You have to be sure that it’s what you want.’
‘An annulment?’ Helena shook her head a little to try and make sense of it. ‘You were refusing to sleep with me to make sure I had an out?’
‘That was one reason.’
‘What was the other?’
‘My father suggested that, should I have any problems getting you to agree to the same terms as Thea for the marriage, I should just get you pregnant to tie you to me, then make sure you signed before the child was born.’
Helena’s heart froze in her chest. ‘What did my father say?’ she asked. Because Ezekiel probably never knew what she’d been through, and she expected that kind of callousness from him anyway. But her own father...
‘He... Helena, he laughed. He said something about you making up for the past by marrying me, and he laughed when Dad told me to get you pregnant.’ He ran a shaking hand through his hair, and Helena wanted to hold him, to soothe him. To have him soothe her. But all she could hear in her mind was her father’s laughter, dismissing the most important thing—the worst thing—that had ever happened to her as a joke.
She’d known that she and Thea were often more useful than loved. She’d understood that this marriage was a business deal, convenient and lucrative rather than something to be celebrated.
But until this moment she’d never realised quite how little her father thought of her. And suddenly her heart felt as if it had been torn apart.
‘I couldn’t bear it.’ Flynn was still talking, and Helena tried to pay him proper attention again. ‘They were just so casual about the idea—about a child’s life. And I knew I couldn’t risk that. That we had to be sure, that everything had to be agreed before anything like that could happen.’
Helena swallowed and it felt as if there was a rock stuck in her throat. He hadn’t wanted her to be trapped, hadn’t wanted any child to be unwanted, or used, like he had been. Her soul ached for the boy Flynn must have been, and for the man he’d become. Her own battered heart reached out for his. Maybe they really could give each other what they’d lacked so far, all their lives—love.
He wanted so badly to do this right, to make a perfect future for them. And so what if he planned it out moment by moment? His reasons were good. His heart was good.
And Helena wanted that heart for her own. More than she’d ever done as a fourteen-year-old child. More even than when she’d envied her sister her golden, good fiancé. More than when she’d stepped into that borrowed wedding dress, and more certainly than when she’d propositioned him in her negligee on their wedding night. More still than when he’d chosen her the perfect engagement ring.
She was in love with her own husband, and it scared her and filled her more than she’d ever known anything could.
‘I think you should ask me that question again now,’ she said, nerves making her whole body feel as if it was vibrating from the inside out. She needed to tell him the truth, needed to confess. But if she did...it could destroy the cautious happiness they were building together. Once they were home, once the paperwork was signed, maybe then she could talk about what had happened to her, what she’d done. Maybe then she could make him understand.
But first she had to make him love her.
Flynn smiled up at her, already on his knees again. ‘Helena. Will you be my wife? In every way there is?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed and felt that amazed joy flooding through her.
* * *
Flynn swept her up in his arms the moment she spoke. He owed her a proper kiss, after their first public one, and that was what he intended to give her. Lowering his mouth to hers, he tried to convey everything he felt—every hope, every dream—through a kiss.
From her eager response, he hoped he had got pretty close.
It amazed him to think that just last week he hadn’t known this woman—not really. He knew Helena, Thea’s sister, or Helena, Thomas’s daughter. But he had no idea of the wonder, the humour, the warmth and the beauty that lay beyond those labels.
‘I can’t believe I came so close to marrying the wrong woman,’ he murmured against her lips, and felt rather than saw her smile in response. ‘This is it. This is exactly how it was meant to be all along.’
‘I know,’ Helena said, and he could hear her happiness in the words. ‘I know. And we so almost didn’t...’
‘But we did. We have each other now.’ It might not be love yet, Flynn thought, but he could see the pathway there. Could see every step between here and their future.
Helena pulled back a little, still smiling, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. ‘You haven’t even put the ring on me yet.’
‘I haven’t?’ Flynn blinked, and saw it sitting on the table beside them. Pulling it free of its velvet box, he lifted Helena’s left hand and slipped it on next to her wedding ring. ‘There.’
‘There,’ Helena echoed, staring down at her hand. ‘It really is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.’
‘For the most beautiful woman,’ Flynn said, knowing it was corny and not even caring. Somehow this moment, alone on the terrace, felt more permanent, more official than the big church ceremony and the signed register. This was the moment he’d remember as their true wedding. The moment they understood each other and committed to their future.
Helena smiled up at him, then caught her lip between her teeth, the way he already knew she always did when she was deciding whether or not to say something.
‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You may as well say whatever it is. After your response to my initial proposal, it’s unlikely you can come up with anything worse.’
‘True. And I do think you’ll like this one more.’ Swaying closer, she wrapped herself tighter around his body, pressing herself against him until it felt as if even air couldn’t squeeze between them. His body began to react immediately, even before Helena rose up on her tiptoes, brushing against him every slow inch of the way, and whispered in his ear, ‘So, do you want tiramisu for dessert? Or me?’
He swallowed, trying to cling on to the composure he was so famed for in the boardroom. The plan was to wait. He’d already pushed so far up against every line he’d drawn for himself. And there was more than business on the line here, he admitted to himself, more than money. He had to be sure he could risk his heart. ‘Are you sure? The contract—’
‘Paperwork’s a formality,’ she murmured against the skin of his neck, placing kisses between each word. ‘I’m yours now, whatever happens. So take me.’
The words ripped through the last of his self-control and Flynn hauled her up his body into another kiss, this one harder, more desperate, more wanting.
‘Upstairs,’ he managed, just, as her hands clutched at his back. ‘Now.’
He didn’t need to say it twice.
* * *
It was several hours later, with the sky dark outside the bedroom window, that Flynn tugged her closer against his naked body and said, ‘We never did get that tiramisu.’
Helena laughed against his skin, her hands still roaming over his chest. ‘You never got me in that negligee, either.’
‘Maybe tomorrow night,’ Flynn said, yawning.
‘Maybe,’ Helena agreed, although she knew they’d never make it that far. By tomorrow night they’d be too desperate for each other again, too consumed with want that they’d forget all about her fancy nightie. Just as they had done tonight.
It had been more than she’d dreamt it could be. The way he moved against her, within her...the way he touched her, with a sort of reverence she’d never imagined a man could have for her body. As if he were drinking in every detail of her, and each one intoxicated him.
She should never have worried about them being compatible, and she almost laughed when she thought that, until a couple of hours ago, she’d honestly been afraid he hadn’t wanted her.
She’d been scared, she admitted to herself, lying in the darkness in her husband’s arms. She’d not wanted to think about it, but there had been very few men since she’d fallen pregnant at sixteen, and none that made Helena feel the way that Flynn did. She’d worried whether she’d be enough for him, worried more about protection until he’d pulled a condom from his wallet, and worried most that he’d be able to tell her secrets with one glance at her body.
He hadn’t, though. And since his eyes and hands and mouth had covered every inch of her, she didn’t imagine he would now.
Her past was locked away until she chose to share it with him. He’d be hurt, she knew, that she’d kept it from him, but she liked to think he’d understand. Especially now—they were already so close, and after so little time. By the time it mattered, when they talked again about children, they’d be a proper unit. A family, even. He’d understand.
And he’d understand, she thought, if she told him she wanted to adopt. He might even welcome it. As long as she got the timing right, they would make it work, she was sure of it.
They had to. She’d committed now, and so had he. There wasn’t any room to step back any more.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Flynn asked, his voice sleepy as he kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re keeping me awake with all those thoughts.’
‘I’m just thinking how happy I am,’ Helena replied, and hoped he didn’t know her well enough yet to tell when she was lying.
He didn’t. ‘Good,’ he said, turning on to his side and pulling her back against his chest. Soon, his breathing evened out and she knew he was asleep.
But Helena lay awake almost until the sun crept over the window ledge, thinking about the things she’d done and the choices she’d made.
* * *
When Flynn awoke the next morning he knew instinctively that it wasn’t six a.m. The sun sat too high in the sky, sending beams of warmth and light that cut across the bed. They hadn’t shut the curtains the night before, he realised, and still he’d slept in well past his normal waking hour.
It had to be the exercise, he thought, stretching out aching muscles as far as he could without waking the woman sleeping in his arms.
His wife.
She’d been everything he’d dreamt she could be, and more. If he’d needed any extra proof that things had worked out for the best, he had it. As the mid-morning sun glinted off the sapphire on her finger, he knew that Helena was the one for him, for life. Whatever happened next—with his father, the company, even with Zeke and Thea—it would be him and Helena against the world. They had their own family. His hand slipped down to rest against her stomach for a moment. And one day, not yet, but once things were settled with the CEO role, that family would grow a little bigger.
He couldn’t wait.
Flynn toyed with the idea of waking Helena to remind her again just how good they were together, but then his eye caught on a piece of card tucked in the edge of the mirror on her dressing table, just under the window. Squinting, he made out the words printed on the front and smiled when he realised what it was.
His wedding invitation. His and Thea’s, defaced by Helena to turn it into theirs. And on the back, he knew, would be that impromptu contract she’d scrawled across it.
The contract. Henry was arriving today. Would be arriving—Flynn glanced at the clock next to the mirror—any moment now.
Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from Helena’s pale limbs, smiling when she reached for him without waking. Tucking the blanket around her, he pulled on yesterday’s jeans and headed for the room next door, where the shower wouldn’t disturb her. He’d get dressed, hunt out some breakfast and meet with Henry. If they were quick, he could have the whole contract ready for signatures before Helena even woke up.
By the time he made it downstairs, Henry had not only arrived but had also befriended the maid and the cook. Flynn found him settled into one of the armchairs in the large hall area, a cup of coffee and a plate of pastries at his elbow. He folded the paper he was reading as he saw Flynn descending the stairs and tucked it away in his briefcase.
‘Am I to assume that the urgency with which you required me to dance attendance on you has now passed?’ Henry asked, a mocking smile on his face.
Flynn couldn’t help but smile back. Henry had known him a long time, had worked with him almost since he’d started at Morrison-Ashton, and knew Flynn better than most. If anyone was going to be happy for him, it was probably Henry.
It was another sign of how little input he’d had on the wedding planning and guest list that Henry hadn’t been invited. Maybe they should throw some sort of spectacular first anniversary party next year and invite all the people they’d have actually liked to be there. Poor Helena hadn’t been allowed to invite anyone to her own wedding.
He should really make that up to her.
Flynn dropped into the chair opposite his friend and helped himself to one of the pastries. ‘We still need the contract,’ he said. ‘But you’re going to have to wait for my wife to wake up first. She’s not good at mornings.’ He tried to keep his expression blank as Henry studied him, but apparently failed as Henry shook his head and laughed.
‘Oh, you lucky, lucky—’ He broke off before the curse. ‘Only you could get dumped on your wedding day and still end up with a beautiful bride you’re madly in love with.’
‘I didn’t say love,’ Flynn argued, but he couldn’t help the grin that came at the thought, ‘yet.’
‘A couple of years’ time, you’re going to be running the company, making millions and have chubby toddlers chasing around after you. It’s going to be sickening.’
‘Perhaps,’ Flynn agreed. ‘Doesn’t sound too bad to me.’
‘It wouldn’t. You’re not the one who’ll have to deal with you being so insufferably smug about it.’ Henry flashed him a grin. ‘Seriously, though, I’m happy for you. Nobody deserves this more than you.’
Was that true? Flynn suspected not. But the fact his friend thought so...that meant something. Maybe, after every bad start, everything he’d had to fight to get here, maybe this was his time to be happy at last.
He hoped so.
‘Come on.’ Flynn got to his feet. No point lingering on the sentimental when there was paperwork to deal with. ‘Let’s go through to the study and get started. I’ll have the maid bring us some more coffee. I’d like to get this agreement put to bed before Helena wakes up, so she can sign it and forget it.’
‘You mean so you can take her back to bed again,’ Henry said.
‘That too.’
‘You know I have to go through all the details with her too, right? You can’t just tell her to sign here and have done with it—however desperate you are to get her naked.’
Pretty desperate, Flynn had to admit. But not enough to ignore the law. ‘I know. But I want to try and keep this one simple, if I can. Helena’s not a huge fan of paperwork.’
Maybe, once Henry had gone, he’d take her over his father’s desk in the study. Maybe that would endear her to paperwork a little bit more.
‘And she married you?’ Henry asked in mock astonishment. ‘Heaven help her.’
Flynn ignored him. It was going to be another glorious day.
