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Maybe it was partly a decade-old crush, partly that he’d always been a friend to her. But a large chunk of it, she knew, had to do with a tiny baby girl she’d never even been allowed to hold.
Flynn could never find out about the daughter she’d given away. He’d never understand. And if he wanted a family...well, he’d said himself that he’d consider surrogacy, or even adoption. He hadn’t sounded thrilled at the idea, but still. Maybe she’d never even have to explain how the idea of another child growing inside her made her feel physically sick and her body start to shake.
Maybe he’d never need to know what she’d done.
Or maybe, just maybe, he’d understand. Not immediately, of course—she was under no illusion about that. But he wanted this marriage, wanted real love to grow between them.
Maybe all she needed to do was to build a relationship strong enough to withstand the truth, when it finally came out. Not an easy task, admittedly. But maybe not completely impossible.
‘You okay over there?’ Flynn asked, and when she opened her eyes he was leaning across the middle seat in the back of the car, looking at her.
She forced a smile. ‘I’m fine. Where are we going?’
‘It’s a surprise.’ Flynn sat back, looking smug. ‘A spontaneous, unplanned, romantic surprise.’
‘That your PA planned?’ she guessed.
But Flynn shook his head. ‘Nope. This one is all me. And I think you’re going to love it.’
She probably would, Helena thought. It seemed that Flynn Ashton could convince her of whatever he set his mind to. And she couldn’t deny the spark of pleasure that Flynn doing something off schedule, just for her, gave her.
She didn’t realise where they were going until the car started over the bridge into the town nearest their villa. She’d been there before with Thea, had planned to come back and do some shopping herself. But she still couldn’t imagine what Flynn planned for them to do there.
Maybe they were checking into a hotel. Maybe he’d decided to celebrate their new arrangement by consummating their marriage and didn’t want to do it in the bed he was supposed to have shared with her sister.
Helena glanced over at Flynn. He didn’t look like a man anticipating having sex within the hour. And, if she was honest, he didn’t seem like the type to drag her off to a hotel without discussing it first.
One thing she’d learned in less than a week of marriage—her husband liked to talk things through. Who knew?
The car pulled into a row of parking spaces right by the central piazza and the driver opened her door. Helena stepped out, just as Flynn arrived to take her hand again.
‘Now can you tell me?’ she asked, but he shook his head.
‘Soon,’ he promised. Tugging on her hand, he led her across the piazza, towards a little side street, dodging cars speeding round corners and pedestrians too busy talking on their phones to look where they were going. The air smelled of strong coffee and sunshine, and it was almost enough for Helena to put all her worries aside.
The shade of the side street soothed her warm skin and Helena’s eyes widened in delight at the array of tiny shops, each selling everything from watches to leather goods to dresses and scarves. But Flynn obviously had a very clear idea of where he was going and allowed no time for window-shopping.
Even off-plan, Flynn Ashton didn’t dawdle. Helena sighed. Maybe she could teach him.
‘Here,’ Flynn said and stopped so suddenly that Helena barely avoided crashing into him. As it was, she found herself staring into a shop window with her side pressed up against his, their joined hands tangled between them. She blamed his closeness for the long moments it took her to realise what she was looking at.
‘A jewellery shop?’ she asked, tearing her gaze away from the sparkly treasures in the window to look up at her husband.
‘Yes. I thought...well, the romantic and spontaneous nature of our wedding meant that you never got an engagement ring. I thought we could choose one together, to celebrate.’ He shuffled ever so slightly, from one foot to the other. Was he...no, really, was he nervous? Maybe that was why he avoided spontaneity—in case it went wrong.
An engagement ring. A little after the fact, but still. It would be something just for her—something that wasn’t Thea’s first.
She really liked that.
‘I think that’s a lovely idea,’ Helena said, squeezing Flynn’s fingers between her own. Then, impulsively, she stretched up on her toes to kiss him—not on the cheek like the sort of brother or friend he’d always been, but right on the lips. It was short but sweet, and enough to let him know that she was embracing her new role, she hoped. ‘Let’s go in.’
Inside, the cramped little shop felt too warm despite the dim lighting and shady spot. Laid out in glass counters sat tray after tray of diamond solitaire rings, varying slightly in design and shape and style, but all very clearly appropriate engagement rings.
‘I spotted this shop walking through town the other day,’ Flynn murmured as Helena took in the racks of sparkles. ‘I just remembered it at lunch. Looks like it’s just the place for what we’re looking for.’
‘It does,’ Helena agreed, even as disappointment tugged at her belly. How was she supposed to pick one ring to symbolise their whole future life together when they were all basically the same? Which tiny variation might make the difference to her happy ever after?
A neatly dressed woman stepped out from a back office behind the counter and smiled as she offered to let Helena try some on. Flynn smiled his encouragement as the shop assistant unlocked the cases and took out the first tray.
Helena blinked as more diamonds than she’d ever imagined caught the light and sparkled up at her.
Well, maybe she’d just have to try some on. Surely she’d know the right one when she found it?
Somewhere around tray three, or ring thirty-six, Helena began to doubt her theory. Flynn had wandered off to the other side of the shop, leaving Helena and the increasingly bored assistant to wade through all the diamonds alone.
‘They’re all beautiful,’ Helena said apologetically, for what must have been the sixth time. ‘I just...I’m looking for one that feels right. You know?’
‘Of course,’ the assistant said in her thick Italian accent. ‘You will wear this ring forever. It must be perfect.’
‘Exactly,’ Helena said, her fingers clenching at the word ‘forever’. She sighed. ‘Why don’t we try this one again?’ It was beauti
ful. Simple, elegant... Helena couldn’t figure out what was wrong with it.
Flynn appeared over her shoulder, frowning. ‘Not that one,’ he said. ‘Looks too much like—’
‘Thea’s,’ Helena finished, the problem suddenly clear. Slipping the ring off again, she placed it back in the tray and moved over to the next one.
‘Hang on,’ Flynn said. Helena glanced up—he was across the other side of the tiny shop again and this time he had the assistant with him, unlocking another cabinet. ‘I want to try something.’
Helena frowned, but waited as instructed. Grinning, Flynn crossed the room with his fist clenched tightly around something. ‘Close your eyes.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep.’
He looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help but do as he asked. She felt him take her left hand and slip a ring on to the fourth finger.
‘And it even fits perfectly,’ Flynn said. ‘Okay, open your eyes.’
Helena stared at the jewel on her finger. ‘That’s not a diamond.’
‘Well, no. I mean, obviously, if that’s what you want, there’s plenty to choose from here. I just thought...’
‘No, no. I mean—it’s not a diamond! I couldn’t figure out why the other rings weren’t right, but now I get it. I wasn’t looking for a diamond.’ Helena grinned. It all seemed so obvious now that Flynn had solved it for her.
The shop assistant muttered something in Italian that Helena couldn’t understand but guessed probably meant: Why couldn’t she have figured that out half an hour ago?
Relief flooded Flynn’s features. ‘Oh, good. I just...that one made me think of you. I don’t know—maybe it’s because it’s blue.’
‘Sapphire,’ Helena said.
‘Whatever. It reminded me of your eyes. And I know it’s not traditional, but neither is buying the engagement ring after the wedding.’
‘It’s perfect.’ Helena tilted her finger to make it sparkle in the dim overhead lights. ‘I love it.’
‘Great. Then hand it over.’ He held out his hand, palm up.
