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‘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.
CHAPTER NINE
HELENA WOKE UP ALONE, stretching out in the bed like a starfish to work out the kinks and aches that her muscles had built up over the night. She wasn’t used to sharing her space while she slept, although sh
e was happy to learn if it meant sharing the bed with Flynn.
Where was Flynn, anyway?
Checking the clock, she saw it was already late morning, which meant he’d probably sloped off to work. Maybe she’d surprise him in his study, persuade him to come back to bed for a while. They could rerun the events of their wedding night, only with the right outcome this time...
She showered quickly, fixed her hair and cleaned her teeth, then dressed in the satin negligee Flynn had so wanted to see again. Then, just in case she ran into any or all of the household staff on her way down, she slipped on a light matching robe which made the whole ensemble almost decent.
Yawning, she opened the door and headed for the stairs, wondering if maybe she should stop for coffee first. No, husband first, then coffee. She could send him out to bring some back to the room afterwards. Ooh, breakfast in bed! That was what honeymoons were for. Well, amongst other things...
When she reached the study, she didn’t bother to knock and didn’t even register the two voices inside until she’d already opened the door.
‘Oh! Sorry.’ She pulled an apologetic face at Flynn, who smiled reassuringly. The man sitting across the desk from him, a laptop between them angled so they could both see the screen, laughed. It was a nice laugh, though, Helena thought. Not cruel or mocking, just amused.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘We were actually waiting for you. I’m Henry, Flynn’s solicitor.’ He held out a hand for Helena to shake.
She frowned as she took it. ‘Solicitor? Is there something wrong?’ Then she realised, and groaned. ‘Seriously, Flynn? Paperwork, at this time in the morning?’
‘It’s practically lunchtime,’ Flynn pointed out.
‘In his defence, I think he mostly wanted to get it sorted so that you could both get back to enjoying your honeymoon,’ Henry said.
Rolling her eyes, Helena dropped into the third chair set around the desk. ‘Fine. But I’m going to need coffee.’
