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‘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.’
