A Groom Worth Waiting For. Sophie Pembroke
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I didn’t want to upset you.’
Thea waved a hand to brush away his apology, and Flynn reached over to take her empty coffee cup and place it safely on the table beside him. ‘It’s not your fault. Just something else to make this day difficult.’
‘That does explain why he was in such an odd mood this afternoon, though,’ Flynn mused. ‘All those defensive jokes. He always did have a bit of a crush on you, I think. Even when we were kids.’
A bit of a crush. Thea ducked her head against Flynn’s chest to hide her reaction. Had there ever been such an understatement? She’d assumed at first that Flynn had known something of her relationship with his brother—despite their attempts at secrecy it seemed that plenty of others had. But it had quickly become clear he’d no idea. And they’d never talked about him, so she’d been perfectly happy to consign it to the realms of vague memory.
‘I don’t think that’s why,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it’s just being here, seeing everyone again after so long. It must be strange.’
‘It was his choice.’ Flynn’s voice was firm, unforgiving. ‘He could have come home at any time.’
‘Perhaps.’ What had really brought Zeke back now? Was it his father’s summons? Not to satisfy the old man, of course, but to show him how much Zeke no longer needed him. To deny him whatever it was he wanted just out of spite?
The Zeke she’d seen today hadn’t seemed spiteful, though. He was no longer the angry boy, lashing out, wanting revenge against his family, his life. Her. So why was he here?
Thea didn’t let herself believe Helena’s theory for a moment. If Zeke had really wanted to see her he’d had eight years. Even if he hadn’t wanted to see his family again he could have found her—made contact somehow. But he hadn’t. And by the time Thea had known where he was again any lingering regret or wish to see him had long faded. Or at least become too painful to consider. That wound was healed. No point pulling it open again.
Except now he was here, for her wedding, and she didn’t have a choice.
Flynn shifted on the seat, switching legs to keep them swinging. ‘Anyway... Talking about my prodigal brother isn’t going to help you feel any more relaxed about the wedding. Let’s talk about more pleasant things.’
‘Like?’
‘Our honeymoon,’ Flynn said decisively, then faltered. The swing stopped moving and his shoulder grew tense under her cheek. ‘I mean... I don’t mean...’
Thea smiled against his shirt. He was so proper. ‘I know what you mean.’
‘I was thinking about the day trips we might take—that sort of thing,’ Flynn explained unnecessarily. ‘There are some very fine vineyards in the region, I believe. I don’t want you to think that I’m expecting...well, anything. I know that wasn’t our agreement.’
Thea pushed herself up to see his face. The agreement. It had been written, signed, notarised months ago—long before the wedding planning had even begun. They both knew what they wanted from this marriage—the business convenience, the companionship, fidelity. The document had addressed the possibility of heirs—and therefore sex—as something to be negotiated in three years’ time. That had been Thea’s decision. Marriage was one thing. Children were something else altogether. She needed to be sure of her role as a wife first.
But now she wondered if that had been a mistake.
‘Maybe we should... I mean, we can talk again about the agreement, if you like?’
Flynn’s body stilled further. Then he started the swing moving again, faster than before. ‘You’ve changed your mind?’
‘I just...I want our marriage to be solid. I want the companionship, and everything else we discussed, but more than anything I want us to be partners. I don’t want doomed passion, or anger and jealousy. I want true friendship and respect, and I know you can give me that.’
‘And children?’ Flynn asked, and Thea remembered just how important that was to him. How much he needed a family of his own—she suspected not just to make sure there was a legitimate Morrison-Ashton heir for the business.
‘In time,’ she said, ‘yes, I think so. But I’d still like a little time for us to get to know each other better first. You know...as husband and wife.’
Was that enough? Would he get the hint?
‘You want us to sleep together?’ Flynn said. ‘Sorry to be blunt, but I think it’s important we both know what we’re saying here.’
Another reason he’d make a good husband. Clarity. She’d never had that with Zeke. Not at all. ‘You’re right. And, yes, I do.’
‘Okay.’
Not exactly the resounding endorsement she’d hoped for. ‘Are you all right with that?’
Flynn flashed a smile at her. ‘Thea, you’re a very beautiful woman and I’m proud that you’re going to be my wife. Of course I’m okay with that.’
‘You weren’t sounding particularly enthusiastic.’
‘I am. Really.’ He pulled her close again and kissed the top of her head. ‘Who knows? Maybe we’ll even grow to love each other as more than friends.’
‘Perhaps we will,’ Thea said. After all, how could she tell her husband-to-be that the last thing she wanted was for either of them to fall in love with each other. Sex, marriage, kids—that was fine. But not love.
Hadn’t it been proved, too many times already, that her love wasn’t worth enough?
* * *
The corridors of the villa were quieter now. Zeke presumed that everyone was lingering over after-dinner drinks in the front parlour or had gone to bed. Either way, he didn’t particularly want to join in.
Instead, he made his way to the terrace doors. A little fresh air, a gulp of freedom away from the oppression of family expectation, might do him some good.
Except the terrace was already occupied.
He stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching the couple on the swing. Whatever he’d seen and thought earlier, here—now—they looked like a real couple. Flynn’s arm wrapped around Thea’s slender shoulders...the kiss he pressed against her head. She had her legs tucked up under her, the way she’d always sat as a teenager, back when they’d spent parties like this hiding out together. The memories were strong: Thea skipping out on her hostessing duties, sipping stolen champagne and talking about the world, confiding in him, telling him her hopes, plans, dreams.
It hurt more than he liked, seeing her share a moment like that with someone else. And for that someone else to be his brother...that burned.
It shouldn’t, Zeke knew. He’d moved past the pain of her rejection years ago, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t found plenty of solace in other arms. She’d made her choice eight years ago and he’d lived by it. He hadn’t called, hadn’t visited. Hadn’t given her a chance to change her mind, because he didn’t want her to.
She’d chosen their families and he’d chosen himself. Different sides. Love had flared into anger, rejection, even hate. But even hate faded over the years, didn’t it? He didn’t hate her now. He didn’t know what he felt. Not love, for certain. Maybe...regret? A faint, lingering thought that things might have been different.
But they weren’t, and Zeke wasn’t one for living in the past. Especially not now, when he’d finally made the last cut between himself and his father. He’d turned down the one thing he’d have given anything for as a boy—his father’s acceptance and approval. He knew now how little that was worth. He was free, at last.
Except for that small thin thread that kept him tied to the woman on the swing before him. And by the end of the week even that would be gone, when she’d tied herself to another.
His