His Very Convenient Bride

Time for a fresh start.

* * *

Flynn was halfway through the second brandy when the knock came. He blinked, confused, for a moment. This was his father’s study. Who would come looking for him here at long past midnight? And it felt so weird to be the one about to call for whomever it was to come in. As if he should be sitting on the other side of the big old desk, staring censoriously at someone.

A second knock. Flynn shook his head, blamed the brandy for his thoughts and said, ‘Come in.’

The door creaked open, slow and loud, and Flynn put down his glass and sat up straight as Helena’s blonde waves appeared around the edge of it.

‘Oh, good,’ she said with an unfamiliar smile. ‘You’re alone. This could have been embarrassing otherwise.’

‘Embarrassing?’ Flynn asked, confused. But then Helena stepped into the room and he understood all too well. ‘Oh.’

The pale satin of her negligee clung to curves he’d barely realised she had until he’d glimpsed her in her underwear that morning. Somehow, even if this ensemble covered more, it seemed worse. He could almost make out the dark tips of her nipples through the thin fabric, and his whole body was suddenly heavy with desire.

Helena bit her lip and Flynn knew he should set her at her ease, reassure her about...something. But he couldn’t find the words. Any words. Could barely remember the English language, in fact.

‘So, I was sitting up in the bridal suite and I got to thinking.’ Turning, she closed the door behind her and Flynn’s eyes focused automatically on her bottom, lush and curved and perfectly highlighted by the satin. Oh, he was doomed.

‘Thinking,’ he repeated dumbly, very aware that he had absolutely no idea what was happening here and, given the circumstances, probably little chance of figuring it out even if she explained it in words of no greater than two syllables. ‘Uh...what about?’

‘Us, mostly.’ Facing him again, she flashed him a smile—a bright and happy smile like he remembered from Helena of old. Helena at fourteen, following him around the house all Christmas Day, her new camera in hand. Except Helena at fourteen had worn taffeta dresses his mother picked out and had never, ever rendered him speechless like this.

‘You mean the wedding?’ Flynn asked, feeling proud of himself for managing that much in the face of satin nightwear.

‘More...the marriage.’ Moving over to the drinks cabinet he’d left open, Helena poured herself a brandy, then brought the bottle over to top up his glass. Because obviously what he needed at this point was more alcohol. The two brandies he’d already had appeared to have addled his mind completely.

Or maybe that was just her.

She sat down in his father’s abandoned chair and crossed her legs, slim ankles showing under the hem of her negligee. Flynn had always felt that ankles were fairly safe parts of the female anatomy to look at, until now. Now, all he could think about was encircling one of those neat ankles with his fingers, trailing them up under all that satin until she uncrossed those legs and parted her thighs for him...

No. Hadn’t he already decided he couldn’t risk getting any closer to his wife until they agreed terms? He needed her tied to him for good before he risked anything—pregnancy or worse. He couldn’t take the chance that he’d grow attached, start imagining their future together, if she might walk out on him at any moment. And he wasn’t about to let brandy and satin derail the only part of his plan that was still intact.

‘Did you want to talk about the marriage contract?’ he asked, straightening himself in his chair and placing his full glass out of easy reach on the table. All he was feeling right now was lust. Nothing to worry about—as long as he didn’t act on it. A one-night stand would be one thing, a temporary release—and wow, did he want that right now. But a man couldn’t have a one-night stand with his own wife. That wasn’t how this worked.

‘Not exactly.’ The smile she gave him now wasn’t a memory at all. It was all new—teasing and tempting and tantalising. The sort of smile Flynn Ashton would never have been allowed to see if he hadn’t married this woman that morning.

Suddenly, the whole fiasco seemed worthwhile, just for a glimpse of that smile. Even if he couldn’t do anything about it—yet.

Yet. That was the key. He didn’t need to close this door forever, didn’t need to shut down what this could be completely. He just needed to put it on ice until they got the details sorted. Who knew, the anticipation might even make the final outcome all the sweeter.

He just needed to exercise a little patience, that was all. And who knew patience better than him? The man who’d spent his life waiting to belong, for a place in the family, to be trusted with the business. He was so close now and he couldn’t let his libido screw that up for him.

‘I was thinking that there could be certain perks to this being married thing,’ Helena went on, and Flynn focused very hard on not imagining those perks.

‘I’m not sure—’

‘I mean, we have this great opportunity to get to know each other better, for one thing.’ Helena folded her legs up under her so she could lean over the arm of the chair, bringing her closer to him. He could smell her skin. She smelt like roses, and it was going to kill him.

‘I’ve known you since you were born,’ Flynn pointed out. ‘I think we know each other pretty well.’

‘Maybe.’ Helena’s answering smile was brief, and shaded. Almost sad. Flynn frowned; he’d known earlier, talking with her father, that he was missing something about Helena’s past. That sad smile just made him want to know what even more. ‘But we’re different people now.’

‘Than when we were children?’ Flynn laughed, but he knew it sounded forced. ‘I should hope so.’

‘We’re different people than we were this morning, Flynn,’ Helena said, her beautiful face suddenly serious. ‘You’re a husband now, and I’m a wife. I’m Mrs Flynn Ashton now, remember?’

Sobered, Flynn nodded his agreement. ‘I know. And that’s...it’s a big change for both of us. And that’s why I think we need to spend some time figuring out what that means, for our futures, not just the family or the business.’

Helena blinked and sat back a little. ‘I’m glad you feel that way.’

‘What did you expect?’ Flynn asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

‘Well, you disappeared from our wedding to hole up with my father and yours—presumably to discuss how our marriage impacts on the shareholders or something.’ Helena s

hrugged. ‘You can understand my belief that the human part of this marriage comes second.’

‘It’s not that,’ Flynn assured her. ‘But our parents are flying out tomorrow morning and I wanted to deal with them before they go. So that we don’t have to think about them at all while we enjoy our honeymoon.’ Instead, he could focus on getting Helena to sign the blasted marriage agreement so that when they got back to London he could put his energies into taking over as CEO of Morrison-Ashton, rather than firefighting whatever actions his father decided to take to solve the problem.

‘Our honeymoon...’ Helena’s tongue darted out to lick her lips and Flynn’s mind flew from business back to their first kiss. The way she’d melted against him, how his hands had clenched at her hips. How all he’d wanted in the world was to draw her closer and closer to him...

Not helping.

‘I had some ideas about our honeymoon,’ Helena went on. ‘And getting to know each other better during it.’ She leant in again and Flynn forced himself to pull back, to keep a distance between them, even if it was somehow actually physically painful.

‘I had some thoughts too,’ he said. ‘I think the first thing we need to do is get the paperwork sorted.’

Helena blinked at him then shifted back, away. ‘Paperwork.’

‘I think it’s important that we both know where we stand in this marriage.’ He kept his gaze fixed on hers as he spoke. He wasn’t hiding away from her, or pretending he didn’t know what she was offering. But he needed to be plain about the way things were going to be.

No sex until they had the papers signed. Even if it felt as if it might kill him.

‘You mean your father wants to make sure I’ve signed away my rights to anything worthwhile before I get my feminine claws into you.’ Helena got to her feet, shaking her head. ‘You know, he really doesn’t have to worry. I don’t want your money or your business. I don’t even want this stupid ring, but I can’t get it off my fat finger.’ She waved her left hand in front of his face and Flynn reached out to grab it.