His Very Convenient Bride Page 5

  Helena was pretty sure it would go down forever as the most bizarre and confusing. But happiest? That really wasn’t the right word for it.

  Flynn led her around the dance floor without her even having to think about where her feet went next, as if he had a diagram in his head that he just had to follow and everything would be graceful and perfect. Which, actually, knowing Flynn, he probably did.

  ‘So,’ he said as the singer launched into the second verse, ‘I think we made it through the day without disaster.’

  ‘I guess we did.’ After the dancing, all that was left was the sending off. Except she and Flynn weren’t going anywhere except upstairs to bed.

  Bed.

  Oh.

  Where were they going to sleep? The bridal suite Thea had been using, which would have been set up for a romantic wedding night while they were all down at the chapel? Or the smaller room Helena had taken as her own? Or even Flynn’s room at the far end of the villa?

  And, more importantly, was Flynn expecting that they’d be going to bed together?

  ‘About that,’ she said, stumbling a little as her shoe got stuck in the too-long hem of her dress. Flynn caught her, strong hands keeping her upright and even still dancing as she found her balance. ‘I mean, about making it through the day. And to the night. Um...’

  Flynn gave a low chuckle that somehow sounded dirtier than she’d ever imagined he was capable of. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone is going to be sober enough to notice where either of us sleep tonight. Why don’t you take the bridal suite, just in case anyone checks, and I’ll stick with my room? I’ll have work to do in the morning anyway, and my laptop and files are all set up in there.’

  Of course. Work.

  Just when she was starting to think that Flynn was a little more enthusiastic about this wedding than she’d expected. But no, it was all just the show, the spectacle, still.

  Except that kiss hadn’t felt like a show. It had definitely been a spectacle, but it had felt...real. Tingly.

  But she wasn’t supposed to be getting tingly feelings about this man. Her husband. Stupid as it seemed. She needed to keep this business-like and official until they could sit down and agree a way to get out of it. As she’d told him that morning, this didn’t have to be forever.

  Couldn’t be forever.

  If she didn’t end this early enough, she’d have to tell him everything, sooner or later. Explain why she couldn’t give him all the things he wanted. Had Isabella already realised? Was that why she’d looked so frustrated all day, whenever no one important had been looking?

  The band launched into a repeat of the last verse, and Flynn spun her round with a little more enthusiasm. Not enough to be called abandon, of course. And probably planned ahead of time. But the crowd cheered anyway, and Helena tried to improve her mood with the knowledge that this was nearly all over. Another hour or so and they’d serve the cake and light supper buffet, even though no one could possibly be hungry again after the dinner they’d just eaten—except her. And she still couldn’t eat because of the ridiculous corset.

  Maybe she could smuggle a doggy bag upstairs under her skirts...

  The band came to a triumphant finish and Flynn dipped her low over his arm. Helena’s heel slid against the wooden floor for a second, then held. Heart racing, she looked up into her husband’s eyes and realised her heart wasn’t going to slow down any time soon.

  Polite applause echoed in her ears as Flynn’s smile—a slow private one she wasn’t used to—spread across his face and she realised that she was still half upside down with her hair threatening to break free from its pins.

  Deliberately, he raised her up to standing again, but his arm tight around her waist kept her upright. Her mind spun—from the dance, from the dip, but mostly from the realisation that she’d thought Flynn was about to kiss her again. Had expected it, almost as her due.

  Had wanted it.

  And that was dangerous.

  With a tight smile, she shuffled back out of his arms. Flynn let her go easily and she tried to stamp down the small swell of disappointment she felt at that.

  ‘I think my father has the next dance,’ she said as the band struck up the next tune.

  ‘Of course,’ Flynn replied, still smiling. ‘And who are we to mess with tradition?’

  ‘Who, indeed?’ Helena twirled away, hitching her dress up a little to avoid tripping, and went to find her father. He might not always be her favourite person but he was a great deal safer to be around than her husband right now.

  * * *

  Several hours and considerably more dances later, the evening finally approached its end. Helena had thought about staging a grand departure earlier, but realised that would leave her alone in the bridal suite with her husband and two hundred people downstairs listening for signs of the marriage being consummated.

  So not happening.

  But at midnight the coaches and cars arrived like carriages on the driveway and the staff efficiently and discreetly persuaded everyone out of the door. Most were staying at hotels down in the town where there would be bars they could abuse all they wanted. But not here.

  A few close family and friends of Isabella’s were staying at the villa, but Helena was optimistic they could avoid them tonight. The bridal suite was at one far end of a wing, with her own bedroom, her father’s and Isabella and Ezekiel’s suite between it and the rest of the villa. Zeke and Flynn had been roomed at the other end of the building but maybe she could persuade Flynn to take her old room. She could get someone to move his work stuff over now, while no one was looking. It would be much easier to keep up the illusion that they were actually sharing the bridal suite that way.

  Helena smiled a gracious goodbye at a passing flurry of guests, then moved away to explain her plan to Flynn—only to see him exiting the room behind her father and his. Where were they all going?

  Frowning, she made to follow and find out, but stopped when a hand slipped through the crook of her arm. To the departing guests, it probably looked like a motherly gesture from her new mother-in-law, but Helena knew differently. Isabella had a grip of steel and if she didn’t want Helena going after Flynn she didn’t stand a chance of making it.

  ‘Where are the menfolk off to?’ Helena asked in what she hoped was an unconcerned tone.

  ‘I believe that Ezekiel and Thomas had some details to hammer out with Flynn, after today’s...occurrences.’ Helena had never heard a wedding sound so inconvenient.

  ‘Details? What sort of details?’

  Isabella waved the hand that wasn’t gripping Helena’s arm as if to say it was nothing for Helena to worry her pretty little head about. Except Helena did worry. Would worry. Was currently worrying. Pretty much in every tense—especially since she knew beyond any doubt that the three men would be talking about her.

  No, not just talking about her. Planning her life. Without any input from her.

  ‘Just little things, I’m sure,’ Isabella said lightly. ‘Probably what adjustments need to be made to the original marriage contract, for one.’

  Yeah, because that wasn’t a big thing at all.

  ‘Don’t you think I should be in there for that?’ Helena asked.

  Isabella gave her a disparaging look. ‘I can’t imagine it would make much of a difference.’ Which was, depressingly, very true. But it didn’t mean she wouldn’t like the opportunity to say her part.

  The door had closed behind the men and Helena knew any chance she had of gate-crashing their summit meeting had passed. All she could do now was wait to see what they decided about her future.

  And then choose whether or not she was willing to go along with it.

  She allowed herself a small secret smile. They could plan all they wanted, but they weren’t in charge of her life. Flynn might be her husband, b
ut he didn’t own her. And she hadn’t signed any paperwork promising him anything.

  Her future was her own and she wouldn’t let the men in her life tell her what to do with it.

  ‘I’m going to go up to the bridal suite,’ she told Isabella in a sweet, not-causing-any-trouble-here tone. ‘It is my wedding night, after all.’

  ‘Of course.’ Isabella loosened her hold on Helena’s arm, studying her face. Helena kept her expression bland. ‘I’m sure Flynn won’t keep you waiting too long.’

  Only until tomorrow morning, given the conversation they’d had while they danced. But her mother-in-law didn’t need to know that. ‘Well, I’d better go and get ready for him, then.’ With a smile, she turned to leave the room, planning to snag a maid to move Flynn’s things on her way.

  ‘Helena.’ She turned back at Isabella’s call. Flynn’s mother had a small crease between her eyebrows, as if she were still trying to make sense of everything that had happened that day. Maybe she was. God knew it didn’t make any sense to Helena yet, and most of it had been her idea. ‘I just wanted to say...maybe things have worked out for the best, after all. Maybe this can be a fresh start for you and Flynn. For you, especially.’

  Helena’s polite smile tightened until her cheeks ached. ‘I hope so,’ she said, not even sure if she was lying or not. ‘It’s about time I was given a second chance around here.’

  And, with that, she turned and swept out of the ballroom, leaving her wedding day behind her.

  It was time for the wedding night.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘WELL. THAT WAS a day.’ Thomas Morrison collapsed into one of the wing chairs by the fire of Ezekiel’s study. ‘Tell me you keep the good brandy in here, old friend?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Ezekiel answered, his tone irritable. ‘Flynn?’

  As his father settled himself into the other wing chair, Flynn moved to the hidden drinks cabinet Ezekiel had found within the first thirty minutes of occupying the office and pulled out three of the good glasses. He deserved a drink, after today. More than just a sip of champagne or half a glass of wine with dinner. He’d held it together all day long, turned a potential disaster into a victory, and now he was about to be cross-examined on his actions by his father and father-in-law.

  He was owed this brandy.

  ‘So.’ Ezekiel studied him as Flynn handed out the brandies, placing his own on the low table between them as he dragged another chair over. ‘You’re a married man now.’

  ‘My son-in-law,’ Thomas added, as if either of these facts might have eluded Flynn so far that day.

  ‘This is true.’ Sitting, Flynn stretched his long legs out in front of him, feeling the aches from standing too long in thin-soled shoes. Brandy would help with those too, he decided.

  ‘So perhaps you would care to explain exactly what you were thinking?’ Ezekiel’s icy tone would have made a weaker man shiver, but Flynn was used to it. Obviously the old man had been working up to this all day. Better to let him get it out.

  ‘I was thinking about the best course of action in an unfortunate situation.’ Flynn kept his gaze steadily on his father’s face as he spoke.

  ‘We had a plan! We had a contract, signed and agreed, ready to come into force the moment the girl said “I do”! Now what do we have? A dumb blonde who knows nothing about the company, who can’t provide the PR boost we needed, and who you married without a pre-nup so will probably run off with some footballer or something before you even reach your first anniversary!’ Ezekiel turned briefly towards Thomas. ‘No offence.’

  Helena’s father merely shrugged. ‘None taken. Helena has never been the most reliable of my daughters. But, you have to admit, she did step up today.’

  ‘Yes, she did. And we’d be in a far worse position if she hadn’t.’ Flynn rubbed a hand across his forehead, suddenly tired. ‘Look. Helena has agreed to negotiate a new marriage contract the moment the guests are gone and the buzz dies down. Beyond that...perhaps she doesn’t have Thea’s business skills, but she has other talents.’

  ‘I bet she does,’ Ezekiel muttered darkly. Flynn ignored the implication.

  ‘She’s a great hostess, very personable and appealing. And, most importantly, she has the best interests of our families, and the company, at heart. It was her idea to stand in for Thea this morning. She wanted to protect her sister’s reputation and preserve this whole wedding of the year spectacle.’ Of course, she’d also wanted to avoid having to tell their parents what had happened to Thea and Zeke. Something Flynn had great sympathy with.

  ‘Ah, yes, her sister.’ Ezekiel sat back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. ‘At some point we need to discuss what happened to the unreliable Thea. But what’s done is done. What matters now is what we do next. Thomas? What do you think?’

  Thomas sighed as he contemplated his daughter. Flynn’s jaw clenched at the sound of it.

  ‘Helena’s a good girl, mostly. Had her moments, of course, but I hope that we’re past those now. Isabella thinks that maybe that’s why she took Thea’s place. To prove she was ready to put the past behind her.’

  ‘Does she?’ Ezekiel nodded. ‘Good insight, that woman. One of the reasons I married her.’

  And still he didn’t find it strange that his wife discussed this with his business partner, not himself, Flynn thought. The relationships between his and Helena’s parents still baffled him.

  He frowned as Thomas’s words sank in. ‘What past? What happened?’ What was he missing here? His memories of Helena were of the sweet golden child Thomas had talked about in his speech. Maybe she seemed a little more prickly these days, underneath that smooth and charming surface, but Flynn had never really been close enough to investigate further.

  He would have to investigate now, though. And he needed all the intelligence he could get going into that.

  But apparently he wasn’t going to get it tonight.

  ‘Nothing that needs to worry you now, son.’ Thomas gave him a kind smile and Flynn tried not to flinch at his use of the word ‘son’ as an endearment. Ezekiel had never managed that. Not once in thirty years. But then, Thomas had always wanted a son and never got one. Ezekiel had longed for one then got two by accident.

  How could he have ever hoped to compete with biology?

  ‘An heir and a spare; that’s what a man needs.’ The words echoed in Flynn’s head from nearly twenty years ago. His father, in another study, with a different glass in his hand, still handing down pronouncements and never, ever listening. ‘But you don’t ever want to have to use the spare, if you can avoid it. And in this case...well, blood is blood. And yours isn’t mine.’

  He remembered the moment so clearly. He’d always known he was adopted; no one had even tried to hide it. But standing there in front of his father as he’d explained exactly why Flynn would never matter, would never be good enough, would never truly count...he could still feel the stabbing pains in his heart now, so many years later.

  Flynn rubbed absently at his chest as his father set down his brandy glass on the table and prepared to pass judgement.

  ‘She’ll do as she’s told,’ Ezekiel pronounced. ‘And if she doesn’t...well, you can always get her pregnant. That tends to calm a woman down. Just make sure she signs the papers before the child is born!’ His father’s wheezy laugh rattled through him like a curse, and Thomas joined in after only a moment.

  I can’t sleep with her, Flynn thought, trying to keep his horrified disgust to himself, even as the bile rose up in his throat. It might be the obvious way to keep Helena at his side—crushing any chance of an annulment, for a start, and bringing them together, showing her that there could be something good between them. Something that could maybe even grow into love.

  But it wouldn’t be fair. He wasn’t his father, or even hers. He wouldn’t trap her that way u
ntil they had some ground rules down. And as much as he wanted a child, an heir of his own, he needed the plan in place before that happened. No child of his would be used as a tool or a weapon.

  Not like Ezekiel had used him and Zeke.

  ‘I think I know how to handle my own wife.’ Flynn tried to sound amused, confident and true, even though it was a complete lie. Thea, he’d have known how to handle. He’d done the background research, spent time with her, made sure to discuss everything they needed to know about each other.

  Except, apparently, the fact that she was in love with his brother.

  Still, that aside, he knew Thea. Helena he hadn’t got a clue about.

  But he was willing to learn. Had to learn, before he could let himself get close. Had to know if she’d stick with him, stand beside him hereafter, before he let himself believe in this marriage. Which meant keeping his hands off her—even after that kiss.

  Ezekiel laughed again, sounding even creakier and wheezier than before. ‘If you believe that, you’re a bigger fool than I took you for. No man ever knows how to truly handle a woman. They thrive on being unpredictable. But you give it a go, if you like. You’ve got two weeks here on honeymoon together. Get her to sign something binding—the same general terms as we agreed for her sister—and I’ll leave you alone to “handle” her. But if you haven’t got the paperwork sorted by the time you come back to London, Thomas and I will take it over.’

  Flynn’s fist clenched against the arm of his chair and the other squeezed his glass so hard that a less expensive vessel would have cracked and smashed. This wasn’t just the business they wanted to control. It was him and his future—and Helena’s. He’d thought that Zeke forcing their father to name Flynn as CEO within the year would have meant he could finally take on the power and the role he was meant to have. Instead, he didn’t even seem to have power over his own marriage.

  But what else could he do? If he didn’t manage to resolve things with Helena in two weeks he’d look weak anyway. And Flynn knew his father well enough to know he’d use that to his advantage somehow.