‘You stayed because other people told you it was the right thing to do. Because you knew it was what your father would want and you’ve always, always done what he wanted.’

He took a breath. ‘But mostly you stayed because you were too scared to trust your own desires. To trust what was between us. To trust me.’

The air whooshed out of Thea’s lungs. ‘That’s what you believe?’

‘That’s what I know.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she said, shifting slightly away from him.

Angling his body towards her, Zeke placed one hand on her hip, bringing him closer than they’d been in eight long years. ‘Prove it.’

‘How?’

‘Tell me you don’t still think about us. Miss us being together. Tell me you don’t still want this.’

Thea started to shake her head, to try and deny it, but Zeke lowered his mouth to hers and suddenly all she could feel was the tide of relief swelling inside her. His kiss, still so familiar after so long, consumed her, and she wondered how she’d even pretended she didn’t remember how it felt to be the centre of Zeke Ashton’s world.

A Groom Worth

Waiting For

Sophie Pembroke

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SOPHIE PEMBROKE has been dreaming, reading and writing romance for years—ever since she first read The Far Pavilions under her desk in Chemistry class. She later stayed up all night devouring Mills & Boon® books as part of her English degree at Lancaster University, and promptly gave up any pretext of enjoying tragic novels. After all, what’s the point of a book without a happy ending?

She loves to set her novels in the places where she has lived—from the wilds of the Welsh mountains to the genteel humour of an English country village, or the heat and tension of a London summer. She also has a tendency to make her characters kiss in castles.

Currently Sophie makes her home in Hertfordshire, with her scientist husband (who still shakes his head at the reading-in-Chemistry thing) and their four-year-old Alice-in-Wonderland-obsessed daughter. She writes her love stories in the study she begrudgingly shares with her husband, while drinking too much tea and eating homemade cakes. Or, when things are looking very bad for her heroes and heroines, white wine and dark chocolate.

Sophie keeps a blog at www.sophiepembroke.com, which should be about romance and writing but is usually about cake and castles instead.

For Emma, Helen & Mary.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EXTRACT

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN, he’s coming here?’ Thea Morrison clasped her arms around her body, as if the action could somehow hide the fact that she was wearing a ridiculously expensive, pearl-encrusted, embroidered ivory wedding dress, complete with six-foot train. ‘He can’t!’

Her sister rolled her big blue eyes. ‘Oh, calm down. He just told me to tell you that you’re late to meet with the wedding planner and if you aren’t there in five minutes he’ll come and get you,’ Helena said.

‘Well, stop him!’

No, that wouldn’t work. Nothing stopped Flynn Ashton when he really wanted something. He was always polite, but utterly tenacious. That was why his father had appointed him his right-hand man at Morrison-Ashton media. And why she was marrying him in the first place.

‘Get me out of this dress before he gets here!’

‘I don’t know why you care so much,’ Helena said, fumbling with the zip at the back of the dress. ‘It’s not like this is a real wedding anyway.’

‘In two days there’ll be a priest, a cake, some flowers, and a legally binding pre-nup saying otherwise.’ Thea wriggled to try and get the strapless dress down over her hips. ‘And everyone knows it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in the wedding dress before the big day.’

It was more than a superstition, it was a rule. Standard Operating Procedure for weddings. Flynn was not seeing this dress a single moment before she walked down the aisle of the tiny Tuscan church at the bottom of the hill from the villa. Not one second.

‘Which is why he sent me instead.’

Thea froze, her blood suddenly solid in her veins. She knew that voice. It might have been eight years since she’d heard it, but she hadn’t forgotten. Any of it.

The owner of that voice really shouldn’t be seeing her in nothing but her wedding lingerie. Especially since she was marrying his brother in two days.

Yanking the dress back up over her ivory corset, Thea held it tight against her chest and stared at him. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ But there he was. Large as life and twice as... Hell, she couldn’t even lie in her brain and finish that with ugly. He looked...grown up. Not twenty-one and angry at everything any more. More relaxed, more in control.

And every inch as gorgeous as he’d always been. Curse him.

Helena laughed. ‘Eight years and that’s all you have to say to him?’ Skipping across the room, blonde hair bouncing, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss against his cheek. ‘It’s good to see you, Zeke.’

‘Little Helena, all grown up.’ Zeke returned the hug, but his gaze never left Thea’s. ‘It’s good to see you too. And rather more of your sister than I’d bargained on.’

There was a mocking edge in his voice. As if she’d planned for him to walk in on her in her underwear. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the country! Flynn had told her he wouldn’t come and she’d been flooded with relief—even if she could never explain why to her husband-to-be. But now here Zeke was, staring at her, and Thea had never felt so exposed.

She clutched the dress tighter—a barrier between them. ‘Well, I was expecting your brother.’

‘Your fiancé,’ Zeke said. ‘Of course. Sorry. Seems he thought I should get started with my best man duties a few days early.’

Thea blinked. ‘You’re Flynn’s best man?’

‘Who else would he choose?’ He said it as if he hadn’t been gone for eight years. As if he’d never taunted Flynn about not being a real Ashton, only an adopted one, a fall-back plan. As if he hadn’t sworn that he was never coming back.

‘Anyone in the world.’ Quite literally. Flynn could have appointed the Russian Prime Minister as his best man and Thea would have been less surprised.

‘He chose his brother,’ Helena said, giving Thea her usual are you crazy? look. She’d perfected it at fifteen and had been employing it with alarming regularity ever since. ‘What’s so weird about that?’

Helena hadn’t been there. She’d been—what? Sixteen? Too young or too self-absorbed to get involved in the situation, or to realise what was going on. Thea had wanted to keep it from her—from everybody—even then. Of course with hindsight even at sixteen Helena had probably had a better idea about men than Thea had at eighteen. Or now, at twenty-six. But Helena had been dealing with her own issues then.

‘So, you’re here for the wedding?’ Thea said.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. ‘What else could I possibly be here for?’

She knew what he wanted her to say, or at least to think. That he’d come back for her. To tell her she’d made the wrong decision eight years ago and she was making a worse one now. To stop her making the biggest mistake of her life.

Except Thea knew full well she’d already made that. And it had nothing to do with Zeke Ashton.

No, she had her suspicions about Zeke’s return, but she didn’t think he was there for her. If he’d come back to the family fold there had to be something much bigger at stake than a teenage rebellion of a relationship that had been dead for almost a decade.

‘I need to get changed.’

Keeping the dress clasped tight to her body, Thea stepped off the platform and slipped behind the screen to change back into her sundress from earlier. She could hear Helena and Zeke chatting lightly outside, making out his amused tone more than the words he spoke. That was one thing that hadn’t changed. The world was still a joke to him—her family most of all.

Hanging the beautiful wedding dress up carefully on its padded hanger, Thea stepped back and stared at it. Her fairytale dress, all sparkle and shine. The moment she put it on she became a different person. A wife, perhaps. That dress, whatever it had cost, was worth every penny if it made her into that person, made her fit.

This time, this dress, this wedding...it had to be the one that stuck. That bought her the place in the world she needed. Nothing else she’d tried had worked.

Shaking her head, Thea tugged the straps of her sundress up over her shoulders, thankful for a moment or two to regroup. To remind herself that this didn’t change anything. So Zeke was there, lurking around their Tuscan villa. So what? He wasn’t there for her. She was still marrying Flynn. She belonged with Flynn. She had the dress; she had the plan. She had Helena at her side to make sure she said, wore and did the right thing at the right time. This was it. This villa, this wedding. This was where she was supposed to be. Everything was in its right place—apart from Zeke Ashton.

Well, he could just stay out of her perfect picture, thank you very much. Besides, the villa was big enough she probably wouldn’t even notice he was in residence most of the time. Not a problem.

Sandals on, Thea smoothed down her hair and stepped back out. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the wedding planner to attend.’

‘Of course,’ Zeke said, with that infuriating mocking smile still in place. ‘We wouldn’t dream of delaying the blushing bride.’

Thea nodded sharply. She was not blushing.

She’d made a promise to herself eight years ago. A decision. And part of that decision meant that Zeke Ashton would never be able to make her blush again.

That part of her life was dead and buried.

Just two days until the wedding. Two more days—that was all. Two days until Thea Morrison got her happily-ever-after.

‘In fact,’ Zeke said, ‘why don’t I walk you there? We can catch up.’

Thea’s jaw clenched. ‘That would be lovely,’ she lied.

Two days and this miserable week would be over. Thea couldn’t wait.

* * *

She barely looked like Thea. With her dark hair straightened and pinned back, her slender arms and legs bronzed to the perfect shade of tan...she looked like someone else. Zeke studied her as she walked ahead of him, long strides clearly designed to get her away from his company as soon as physically possible.

Did she even remember the time when that had been the last thing she’d wanted? When she’d smile and perform her hostess duties at her father’s dinner parties and company barbecues, then sneak off to hide out somewhere private, often dark and cosy, with him...? Whoever she’d pretended to be for their parents—the good girl, the dutiful daughter—when they were alone Zeke had seen the real Thea. Seen glimpses of the woman he’d always believed she’d become.

Zeke shook his head. Apparently he’d been wrong. Those times were gone. And as he watched Thea—all high-heeled sandals, sundress and God only knew what underneath, rather than jeans, sneakers and hot pink knickers—he knew the girl he’d loved was gone, too. The Thea he’d fallen in love with would never have agreed to marry his brother, whatever their respective fathers’ arguments for why it was a good idea. She’d wanted love—true love. And for a few brief months he’d thought she’d found it.

He’d been wrong again, though.

Lengthening his own stride, he caught up to her easily. She might have long legs, but his were longer. ‘So,’ he asked casually, ‘how many people are coming to this shindig, anyway?’

‘Shindig?’ Thea stopped walking. ‘Did you just call my wedding a shindig?’

Zeke shrugged. Nice to know he could still get under her skin so easily. It might make the next couple of days a little more fun. Something had to. ‘Sorry. I meant to say your fairytale-worthy perfect day, when thou shalt join your body in heavenly communion with the deepest love of your heart and soul. How many people are coming to that?’

Colour rose in her cheeks, filling him with a strange sense of satisfaction. It was childish, maybe. But he wasn’t going to let her get away with pretending that this was a real, true love-match. It was business, just like everything else the Morrisons and the Ashtons held dear.

Including him, these days. Even if his business wasn’t the family one any more.

‘Two hundred and sixty-eight,’ Thea said, her tone crisp. ‘At the last count.’

‘Small and intimate, then?’ Zeke said. ‘Just how my father likes things. Where are you putting them all up? I mean, I get that this place is enormous, but still...I can’t imagine your guests doubling up on camp beds on the veranda.’

‘We’ve booked out the hotel down the road. There’ll be executive coaches and cabs running back and forth on the day.’

A small line had formed between her eyebrows, highlighting her irritation. That was new, too.

‘Why do you care, anyway?’

‘I’m the best man,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s my job to know these things.’

That, apparently, was the line that did it. Spinning round to face him straight on, Thea planted her hands on her hips and scowled at him. ‘Why are you here, Zeke? And don’t give me some line about brotherly duties. I know full well what you think about Flynn.’

Did she? Maybe she could enlighten him, then. Zeke had long since given up trying to make sense of his relationship with his adopted brother. After he’d left home he’d spent months lying awake thinking about it. Wondering if he could have changed things if he’d realised sooner, before that last conversation with his father that had driven him away for good... But in the end the past was the past. He’d had to move on. Besides, this wasn’t about him and Flynn. It was about Flynn and Thea.

‘Well, if you’re not going to buy brotherly affection, I doubt you’ll go for family loyalty either.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m far more interested in what our fathers said to get you to agree to marry the Great Pretender.’

‘Don’t call him that,’ Thea snapped. ‘It wasn’t funny when we were kids, and it’s not funny now. And is it so hard to believe that I might actually want to marry Flynn?’

‘Yes,’ Zeke said automatically. And not just because she wasn’t marrying him, whatever his business partner, Deb, said.

‘Well, I do.’ Thea stared at him mulishly, as if she were barely resisting the urge to add, So there!

Zeke leant back against the sunny yellow stone of the hallway, staring down through the arches towards the terrace beyond and the green vines snaking up the trellis. Clearly they were no longer in a hurry to get to the meeting, which gave him a chance to find out what had been going on around here lately.

‘Really?’ he said, folding his arms across his chest. ‘So you’re saying that the fact that your marriage will merge both sides of the business for all time, and give your heirs total control, hasn’t even crossed your mind?’

Thea pulled a face. ‘Of course it has.’

‘And if it hadn’t I’m sure your father would have made it very clear.’ Thomas Morrison was always very good about making his daughter understand the implications of her actions, as Zeke remembered it. Especially when they could benefit him—or threatened to inconvenience him.

‘But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t my decision,’ Thea said.

And suddenly all Zeke could think about was the last decision Thea had made, right before he’d skipped out on the family, the business and the rest of his life.

‘Of course not,’ he said, with a sharp, bitter taste in his mouth at the words. ‘I know you like to weigh your decisions very carefully. Make sure you’re choosing the most beneficial option.’

Thea’s jaw dropped slightly. What? Had she expected him not to notice exactly how mercenary her behaviour was? Maybe eight years ago she might have fooled him, but he knew better now. He knew exactly what mattered to her—and it wasn’t him.

‘What, exactly, are you trying to say?’ She bit the words out, as if she were barely holding back a tirade of insulted pride. ‘And I’d think very carefully before answering.’

Zeke gave her his most blinding smile. ‘Exactly what you think I’m trying to say. That suddenly it makes an awful lot of sense why you chose to stay here instead of coming away with me eight years ago. What was the point once you knew I wasn’t the heir any more?’ He shrugged, nonchalantly, knowing it would irritate her even more. ‘Gotta say, though...I’m surprised it took you this long to bag Flynn.’

* * *

She was going to explode. Literally just pop with rage and frustration, spilling bitterness and anger all over the expensively rustic scrubbed walls of this beautiful villa.

Except that would probably make Zeke Ashton smirk even more. So, instead, Thea took a deep breath and prepared to lie.

‘As hard as it may be for you to believe, I am in love with your brother.’ Her voice came out calm and cool, and Thea felt a small bubble of pride swelling up amongst all the fury. There’d been a time when any words Zeke had spoken to her had provoked an extreme reaction. When they were kids it had usually been annoyance, or anger. Then, when they were teenagers, that annoyance had suddenly become attraction, and then anger, arousal... By the time he’d left...all sorts of other complicated reactions had come into play.

But not any more. Now she was an adult, in control of her own life and making her own decisions. Zeke Ashton’s barbs and comments had no power over her any longer. It felt incredibly freeing.

‘Love?’ Zeke raised an eyebrow. ‘You know, I’m starting to think you’ve got your definition of that word wrong.’

‘Trust me, I know exactly what it means.’ Love meant the incredible pain of loss when it was gone. Or the uncertainty of never knowing if it was returned. It baffled Thea why so many people thought love was a good thing.

‘Really? Well, I’m sure I’m just thrilled that you’ve finally found true love. Guess I was just a practice run.’

Thea’s stomach rolled at the reminder. It wasn’t that she’d thought he’d forgotten their teenage fling, or even forgiven her for the way it had ended—he’d made it very clear in the half-hour he’d been in the villa that neither had happened. But she hadn’t expected him to want to actually talk about it. Weren’t men supposed to be strong and silent on matters of the heart? Suffering in silence, and all that?

Except Zeke had always loved the sound of his own voice. Apparently that hadn’t changed, even if nearly everything else had.

‘That was a long time ago, Zeke. We were kids.’ Too far in the past to bring up now, surely? Even for Zeke, with his ridiculous need to talk about everything. ‘We’ve both moved on. We’re different people now.’

‘Want to throw in a few more clichés with that?’ Zeke shook his head. ‘Look, you can rewrite history any way you like. And, trust me, I’m not here to try and win you back—even to get one over on Flynn. But you’re not going to convince me that this is anything but a business deal with rings.’

‘You’re wrong,’ Thea lied. ‘And you’ll see that. But...’

‘But?’ Zeke asked, one eyebrow raised again in that mocking expression that drove her crazy. ‘But what?’

‘Even if it was a business deal...what would be wrong with that? As long as we both know what we’re getting into...’ She shrugged. ‘There are worse reasons to get married.’

‘Maybe.’ Zeke gave her a slow smile—the one that used to make her insides melt. ‘But there are so many better reasons, too.’

* * *

‘Like love,’ Thea said, apparently still determined to stick to her story.

Zeke didn’t buy it, and knew he wouldn’t, no matter how hard she tried to convince him. He knew what Thea in love looked like, and this wasn’t it.

At least not his Thea. The old Thea. He shook his head. He couldn’t let doubt in now. The only thing in his life that had never let him down was gut instinct. He had to trust himself, especially since he couldn’t trust anyone else. Not even Thea.

‘Love’s the big one,’ Zeke agreed. ‘But it’s not the only thing that counts. Trust. Respect. Common values—’

‘We have those too,’ Thea broke in.

‘Sexual compatibility,’ Zeke finished, smirking when her mouth snapped shut. ‘That’s always important for long-term happiness, I find.’

Her gaze hardened. ‘Really? And how’s that working out for you? I can’t help but notice you’ve come to my wedding alone, after all.’

He had a comeback for that somewhere, he was sure. But since Flynn arrived at that moment—cool, collected, and always an inch and a half taller than Zeke—he didn’t have to search for it.

‘Zeke! You made it.’ Flynn stepped up and held out a hand, but before Zeke could even take it Thea had latched on to her fiancé’s other arm, smiling up at him in a sickeningly adoring manner.

Keeping the handshake as perfunctory as possible, Zeke moved out of their circle of love and into his own space of scepticism. ‘How could I resist the opportunity to be the best man for once? Might be the only chance I get.’

Flynn’s smile stiffened a little at that, but he soldiered on regardless. Always so keen to play up the family loyalty—to be a part of the family he’d never really thought he belonged in. Zeke would have thought that their father choosing Flynn over him would have gone a long way to convincing his brother that there was only one golden boy in the family, and that blood didn’t matter at all.

‘I wouldn’t want anyone but my brother beside me on such an important day,’ Flynn said.

He didn’t even sound as if he was lying, which Zeke thought was quite an accomplishment.

‘Really? Because I have to admit I was kind of surprised to be asked.’ Zeke glanced at Thea, who gave him an I knew it! look. ‘Not as surprised as Thea was to see me here, of course,’ he added, just because he could. She glared at him, and snuggled closer against Flynn’s arm. There was absolutely no chemistry between them at all. And not a chance in hell they’d ever slept together. What on earth was Thea doing with him?

‘You said he wasn’t coming,’ Thea pointed out—rather accusingly, Zeke thought.

‘I wasn’t sure he would,’ Flynn admitted, glancing down at Thea with an apologetic smile.

Zeke wasn’t sure he liked the idea of them talking about him in his absence. What had she said? How much had she told him?

‘But, Zeke, you were the one who left us, remember? Not the other way round. Of course I asked you. You’re my brother.’

‘And that’s the only reason?’ Zeke asked. An uncomfortable feeling wriggled in his chest at the reminder of his disappearance, but he pushed it aside. He hadn’t had a choice. His father had made his position very clear, and that position had taken any other options Zeke might have had off the table. He’d only hung around long enough to waste his time talking to Thea that same night, then he’d been gone. And nobody looking at Zeke now, at how far he’d come and how much he’d achieved, could say that he’d made a mistake by leaving.

Flynn didn’t answer his question. With a sigh, he said, ‘Dad’s got a dinner planned for tonight, by the way. To welcome you home.’

Zeke appreciated the warning too much to point out that a luxury Tuscan villa belonging to some client or another wasn’t actually ‘home’, no matter how many swimming pools it had. ‘A prodigal son type thing? Hope he’s found a suitably fatted calf.’

‘I’m sure there was some poor animal just begging to be sacrificed on your behalf,’ Thea said. ‘But before then don’t we have a meeting with the wedding planner to get to, darling?’

The endearment sounded unnatural on her tongue, and Flynn actually looked uncomfortable as she said it. Nobody would ever believe these two actually loved each other or wanted to see each other naked. Watching them, Zeke couldn’t even see that they’d ever met before, let alone been childhood friends. He could imagine them on their wedding night—all unnatural politeness and a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed. If it wasn’t Thea doing the marrying, it would be hilarious.

‘She had to leave,’ Flynn said. ‘But I think we sorted out all the last-minute details. I said you’d call her later if there was anything you were concerned about.’

‘I’m sure it’s all fine,’ Thea said, smiling serenely.

Even that seemed false. Shouldn’t a woman getting married in two days be a little bit more involved in the details?

A door opened somewhere, slamming shut again as Hurricane Helena came blowing through.

‘Are you guys still here?’ she asked, waves of blonde hair bobbing past her shoulders. ‘Shouldn’t you all be getting ready for dinner? Thea, I had the maid press your dress for tonight. It’s hanging in your room. Can I borrow your bronze shoes, though?’

‘Of course,’ Thea said, just as she always had to Helena, ever since their mother had died.

Zeke wondered if she even realised she did it.

‘Come on, I’ll find them for you now.’

As the women made their way down the corridor Helena spun round, walking backwards for a moment. ‘Hope you brought your dinner jacket, Zeke. Apparently this welcome home bash is a formal affair.’

So his father had been sure he’d come, even if no one else had. Why else would he have set up a formal dinner for his arrival?

Helena turned back, slipping a hand through her sister’s arm and giggling. Thea, Zeke couldn’t help but notice, didn’t look back at all.

Beside him, Flynn gave him an awkward smile. He’d always hated having to wear a bow tie, Zeke remembered suddenly. At least someone else would be miserable that evening.

‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ Flynn said, setting off down another corridor.

‘Can’t wait.’ Zeke’s words echoed in the empty hallway. ‘Gonna be a blast.’

CHAPTER TWO

THEA SHOULD HAVE known this wasn’t just about shoes.

‘So...Zeke coming home. Bit of a shock, huh?’ Helena said, lounging back on Thea’s ridiculously oversized bed.

‘Yep.’ Thea stuck her head in the closet and tried to find her bronze heels. Had she even packed them?

‘Even though old Ezekiel Senior has planned a welcome home dinner?’

‘I told you—Flynn didn’t think he’d come,’ Thea explained. ‘So neither did I.’

‘So Flynn was just as shocked?’ Helena asked, too innocently.

‘Probably,’ Thea said. ‘He just hides it better.’

‘He hides everything better,’ Helena muttered. ‘But, to be honest, he didn’t seem all that surprised when I told him Zeke had arrived.’

Thea bashed her head on the wardrobe door. Rubbing her hand over the bump, she backed out into the room again. ‘Then maybe he just had more faith that his brother would do the right thing than I did. I really don’t think I brought those bronze shoes.’

‘No? What a shame. I’ll just have to wear my pewter ones.’ Helena sat up, folding her legs under her. ‘Why don’t you trust Zeke? I thought you two were pretty close before he left.’

Thea stared at her sister. She’d known all along she didn’t have the stupid shoes, hadn’t she? She’d just wanted an excuse to quiz her about Zeke. Typical.

‘We were friends,’ she allowed. ‘We all were. Hard not to be when they were over at our house all the time.’

‘Or we were there,’ Helena agreed. ‘Especially after Mum...’

‘Yeah.’

Isabella Ashton had quickly taken pity on the poor, motherless Morrison girls. She’d been more than happy to educate fourteen-year-old Thea in the correct way to run her father’s household and play the perfect hostess. At least until Thea had proved she wasn’t up to the task and Isabella had taken over all together. Thea would have been relived, if she hadn’t had to bear the brunt of her father’s disappointment ever since.

And been made to feel like an outsider in my own home.

Thea swallowed and batted the thought away. Helena probably didn’t remember that part of it. As far as she was concerned Isabella had just made sure they were supplied with any motherly advice they needed. Whether they wanted it or not.

Thea moved over to the dressing table, looking for the necklace Isabella had given her for her eighteenth birthday. The night Zeke had left. She’d wear it tonight, along with her own mother’s ring. Isabella always appreciated gestures like that.

‘And you’ve really not spoken to Zeke at all since he left?’ Helena asked.

Thea wondered how much her sister suspected about her relationship with Flynn’s brother. Too much, it seemed.

‘Not once,’ she said firmly, picking up Isabella’s necklace. ‘Not once in eight years.’

‘Strange.’ Helena slipped off the bed and came up behind her, taking the ends of the chain from her to fasten it behind her neck. ‘Do you think that’s why he’s come back now? Because you’re getting married?’

‘Well, he was invited, so I’m thinking that was probably the reason.’

‘No,’ Helena said, and something about her sister’s quiet, firm voice made Thea look up and meet her eyes in the mirror. ‘I meant because you’re getting married.’

Thea swallowed. ‘He didn’t come and visit the last time I almost got married.’

‘Or the time before that,’ Helena said, cheerfully confirming her view of Thea as a serial fiancée. ‘But then, those times you weren’t marrying his brother.’ The words And you didn’t go through with it... went unsaid.

Thea dropped down onto the dressing table stool. Wouldn’t that be just like Zeke—not to care that she might marry someone else as long as it wasn’t a personal slight to him? But did he even know about the others? If he did, she predicted she’d be subjected to any number of comments and jibes on the subject. Perfect. Because she hadn’t had enough of that at work, or from her friends, or even in the gossip pages.

Only Helena had never said anything about it. Her father had just torn up the pre-nups, asked his secretary to cancel the arrangements, and said, ‘Next time, perhaps?’ After the last one even Thea had had to admit to herself that she was better off sticking to business than romance.

It was just that each time she’d thought she’d found a place she could belong. Someone to belong to. Until it had turned out that she wasn’t what they really wanted after all. She was never quite right—never quite good enough in the end.

Except for Flynn. Flynn knew exactly what he was getting, and why. He’d chosen it, debated it, drawn up a contract detailing exactly what the deal entailed. And that was exactly what Thea needed. No confused expectations, no unspoken agreements—this was love done business-style. It suited her perfectly.

Zeke would think it was ridiculous if he knew. But she was pretty sure that Zeke had a better reason for returning than just mocking her love life.

‘That’s not why he’s back.’

‘Are you sure?’ Helena asked. ‘Maybe this is just the first time he thought you might actually go through with it.’

‘You make me sound like a complete flake.’ Which was fair, probably. Except she’d always been so sure...until it had become clear that the men she was supposed to marry weren’t.

Helena sighed and picked up a hairbrush from the dressing table, running it through her soft golden waves. Thea had given up wishing she had hair like that years ago. Boring brown worked fine for her.

‘Not a flake,’ Helena said, teasing out a slight tangle. ‘Just...uncertain.’

‘“Decisionally challenged”, Dad says.’

Helena laughed. ‘That’s not true. You had a perfectly good reason not to marry those guys.’

‘Because it turned out one was an idiot who wanted my money and the other was cheating on me?’ And she hadn’t seen it, either time, until it had been almost too late. Hadn’t realised until it had been right in front of her that she couldn’t be enough of a lover or a woman for one of them, or human enough to be worth more than hard cash to the other. Never valuable enough in her own right just to be loved.

‘Because you didn’t love them.’ Helena put down the brush. ‘Which makes me wonder again why exactly you’re marrying Flynn.’

Thea looked away from the mirror. ‘We’ll be good together. He’s steady, sensible, gentle. He’ll make a great husband and father. Our families will finally be one, just like everyone always wanted them to be. It’s good for the business, good for our parents, and good for us. This time I know exactly what I’m signing up for. That’s how I know that I’ve made the right decision.’

This time. This one time. After a lifetime of bad ones, Thea knew that this decision had to stick. This was the one that would give her a proper family again, and a place within it. Flynn needed her—needed the legitimacy she gave him. Thea was well aware of the irony: he needed her Morrison bloodline to cement his chances of inheriting the company, while she needed him, the adopted Ashton son, to earn back her place in her own family.

It was messed up, yes. But at least they’d get to be messed up together.

Helena didn’t say anything for a long moment. Was she thinking about all the other times Thea had got it wrong? Not just with men, but with everything...with Helena. That one bad decision that Helena still had to live with the memory of every day?

But when she glanced back at her sister’s reflection Helena gave her a bright smile and said, ‘You’d better get downstairs for cocktails. And I’d better go and find my pewter shoes. I’ll meet you down there, okay?’

Thea nodded, and Helena paused in the doorway.

‘Thea? Maybe he just wanted to see you again. Get some closure—that sort of thing.’

As the door swung shut behind her sister Thea wished she was right. That Zeke was ready to move on, at last, from all the slights and the bitterness that had driven him away and kept him gone for so long. Maybe things would never be as they were when they were kids, but perhaps they could find a new family dynamic—one that suited them all.

And it all started with her wedding.

Taking a deep breath, Thea headed down to face her family, old and new, and welcome the prodigal son home again. Whether he liked it or not.

* * *

It was far too hot to be wearing a dinner jacket. Whose stupid idea was this, anyway? Oh, that was right. His father’s.

Figured.

Zeke made his way down the stairs towards the front lounge and, hopefully, alcohol, torn between the impulse to rush and get it over with, or hold back and put it off for as long as possible. What exactly was his father hoping to prove by this dinner?

Zeke couldn’t shake the feeling that Flynn’s sudden burst of brotherly love might not be the only reason he’d been invited back to the fold for the occasion. Perhaps he’d better stick to just the one cocktail. If his father had an ulterior motive for wanting him there, Zeke needed to be sober when he found out what it was. Then he could merrily thwart whatever plan his dad had cooked up, stand up beside Flynn at this ridiculously fake wedding, and head off into the sunset again. Easy.

He hadn’t rushed, but Zeke was still only the second person to make it to the cocktail cabinet. The first, perhaps unsurprisingly, was Thomas Morrison. The old man had always liked a martini before dinner, but as his gaze rose to study Zeke his mouth tightened and Zeke got the odd impression that Thea’s dad had been waiting for him.

‘Zeke.’ Thomas held out a filled cocktail glass. ‘So you made it, then.’

Wary, Zeke took the drink. ‘You sound disappointed by that, sir.’

‘I can’t be the only person surprised to see you back.’

Zeke thought of Thea, standing in nothing but the underwear she’d bought for his brother, staring at him as if he’d returned from the dead. Was that really how she thought of him? In the back of his mind he supposed he’d always thought he would come back. When he was ready. When he’d proved himself. When he was enough. The wedding had just forced his hand a bit.

‘I like to think I’m a pleasant surprise,’ Zeke said.

Thomas sipped his martini and Zeke felt obliged to follow suit. He wished he hadn’t; Thomas clearly liked his drinks a certain way—paint-stripper-strong. He put the glass down on the cocktail bar.

‘Well, I think that depends,’ Thomas said. ‘On whether you plan to break your mother’s heart again.’

Zeke blinked. ‘She didn’t seem that heartbroken to me.’ In fact when she’d greeted him on his arrival she’d seemed positively unflustered. As if he was just one more guest she had to play the perfect hostess to.

‘You never did know your mother.’ Thomas shook his head.

‘But you did.’ It wasn’t a new thought. The two families had always been a touch too close, lived a little too much in each other’s pockets. And after his wife’s death...well, it hadn’t been just Thomas’s daughters that Zeke’s mother had seemed to want to look after.

‘We’re old friends, boy. Just like your father and I.’

Was that all? If it was a lie, it was one they’d all been telling themselves for so long now it almost seemed true.

‘And I was there for both of them when you abandoned them. I don’t think any of us want to go through that again.’

Maybe eight years had warped the old man’s memory. No way had his father been in the least bit bothered by his disappearing act—hell, it was probably what he’d wanted. Why else would he have picked Flynn over him to take on the role of his right-hand man at Morrison-Ashton? Except Zeke knew why—even if he didn’t understand it. He had heard his father’s twisted reasoning from the man’s own lips. That was why he’d left.

But he couldn’t help but wonder if Zeke leaving hadn’t been Ezekiel Senior’s plan all along. If he’d wanted him to go out in the world and make something of himself. If so, that was exactly what Zeke had done.

But not for his father. For himself.

‘So, you think I should stick around this time?’ Zeke asked, even though he had no intention of doing so. Once he knew what his father was up to he’d be gone again. Back to his own life and his own achievements. Once he’d proved his point.

‘I think that if you plan to leave again you don’t want to get too close while you’re here.’

The old man’s steely gaze locked on to Zeke’s, and suddenly Zeke knew this wasn’t about his father, or even his mother.

This was about Thea.

Right on cue they heard footsteps on the stairs, and Zeke turned to see Thea in the doorway, beautiful in a peacock-blue gown that left her shoulders bare, with her dark hair pinned back from her face and her bright eyes sharp.

Thomas clapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Welcome home, Zeke.’ But the look he shot at Thea left Zeke in no doubt of the words he left unsaid. Just don’t stay too long.

* * *

The air in the lounge felt too heavy, too tightly pressed around the stilted conversation between the three of them—until Helena breezed in wearing the beautiful pewter shoes that had been a perfect match for her dress all along. She fixed drinks, chatting and smiling all the way, and as she pressed another martini into their father’s hand some of the tension seemed to drop and Thea found she could breathe properly again.

At least until she let her eyes settle on Zeke. Maybe that was the problem. If she could just keep her eyes closed and not see the boy she remembered loving, or the man he’d turned into, she’d be just fine. But the way he stood there, utterly relaxed and unconcerned, his suit outlining a body that had grown up along with the boy, she wanted to know him. Wanted to explore the differences. To find out exactly who he was now, just for this moment in time, before he left again.

Stop it. Engaged to his brother, remember?

Flynn arrived moments later, his mother clutching his arm, and suddenly things felt almost easy. Flynn and Helena both had that way about them; they could step into a room and make it better. They knew how to settle people, how to make them relax and smile even when there were a million things to be fretting about.

Flynn had always been that way, Thea remembered. Always the calm centre of the family, offset by Zeke’s spinning wild brilliance—and frustration. For Helena it had come later.

Through their whole childhood Thea had been the responsible eldest child, the sensible one, at least when people were looking. And all the while Helena had thrown tantrums and caused chaos. Until Thea had messed up and resigned her role. Somehow Helena had seemed to grow to fill it, even as Isabella had taken over the job of mother, wife and hostess that Thea had been deemed unsuitable for. If it hadn’t been for her role at the company, Thea wondered sometimes if they’d have bothered keeping her around at all. They certainly hadn’t seemed to need her. At least not until Flynn needed a bride with an appropriate bloodline.

‘Are we ready to go through for dinner?’ Isabella asked the room at large. ‘My husband will be joining us shortly. He just has a little business to finish up.’

What business was more important than this? Hadn’t Ezekiel insisted on this huge welcome home feast for his prodigal son? The least he could do was show up and be part of it. Thea wanted nothing more than for Zeke to disappear back to wherever he’d been for eight years, and she was still there.

Thea glanced up at Zeke and found him already watching her, eyebrows raised and expression amused. He slid in alongside her as they walked through to dinner.

‘Offended on my behalf by my father’s tardiness?’ he asked. ‘It’s sweet, but quite unnecessary. The whole evening might be a lot more pleasant if he doesn’t join us.’

‘I wasn’t...it just seemed a little rude, that’s all.’

‘Rude. Of course.’

He offered his arm for her to hold, but Thea ignored it. The last thing she needed was to actually touch Zeke in that suit.

‘That’s why your face was doing that righteously indignant thing.’

Thea stared at him. ‘“Righteously indignant thing”?’

‘Yeah. Where you frown and your nose wrinkles up and your mouth goes all stern and disapproving.’

‘I...I didn’t know I did that.’

Zeke laughed, and up ahead Helena turned back to look at them. ‘You’ve always done it,’ he said. ‘Usually when someone’s being mean about me. Or Flynn, or Helena. It’s cute. But like I said, in this case unnecessary.’

Thea scowled, then tried to make her face look as neutral as possible. Never mind her traitorous thoughts—apparently now she had to worry about unconscious overprotective facial expressions, too.

There were only six of them for dinner—seven if Ezekiel managed to join them—and they clustered around one end of the monstrously large dining table. Her father took the head, with Isabella at his side and Flynn next to her. Which left Thea sandwiched between Zeke and her father, with Helena on Zeke’s other side, opposite Flynn. Thea couldn’t help but think place cards might have been a good idea. Maybe she could have set hers in the kitchen, away from everybody...

They’d already made it through the starter before Ezekiel finally arrived. Thea bit her lip as he entered. Would he follow the unspoken boy-girl rule and sit next to Helena? But, no, he moved straight to Flynn’s side and, with barely an acknowledgement of Zeke’s presence in the room, started talking business with his eldest son.

Thea snuck a glance at Zeke, who continued to play with his soup as if he hadn’t noticed his father’s entrance.

‘Did he already welcome you back?’ Thea asked. But she knew Ezekiel Senior had been locked in his temporary office all day, so the chances were slim.

Zeke gave her a lopsided smile. ‘You know my father. Work first.’

Why was she surprised? Ezekiel Ashton had always been the same.

‘Well, if he’s not going to ask you, I will.’ Shifting in her seat to face him a little, Thea put on her best interested face. ‘So, Zeke... What have you been up to the last eight years?’

‘You don’t know?’ Zeke asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be in charge of PR and marketing for the company? I’d have thought it was your business to keep on top of what your competitors are up to.’

Too late Thea realised the trap she’d walked straight into. ‘Oh, I know about your business life,’ she said airily. ‘Who doesn’t? You set up a company purposely to rival the family business—presumably out of spite. It’s the kind of thing the media loves to talk about. But, really, compared to Morrison-Ashton This Minute is hardly considered a serious competitor. More a tiny fish.’

‘Beside your shark?’ Zeke reached for his wine glass. ‘I can see that. But This Minute wasn’t ever intended to be a massive media conglomerate. Big companies can’t move fast enough for me.’

That made sense. Zeke had never been one for sitting in meetings and waiting for approval on things he wanted to get done. But according to industry gossip even his instant response news website and app This Minute wasn’t enough to hold his attention any more.

‘I heard you were getting ready to sell.’

‘Did you, now?’ Zeke turned his attention across the table, to where his father and Flynn were still deep in conversation. ‘That explains a lot.’

‘Like?’

‘Like why my father added his own personal request that I attend to my wedding invitation. He wants to talk about This Minute.’

So that was why he was back. Nothing to do with her, or Flynn, or the wedding. Not that she’d really thought it was, but still the knowledge sat heavily in her chest. ‘You think he wants to buy it?’

‘He’s your CEO. What do you think?’

It would make sense, Thea had to admit. Their own twenty-four-hour news channels couldn’t keep up with the fast response times of internet sites. Buying up This Minute would be cheaper in the long run than developing their own version. And it would bring Zeke back into the family fold...

‘Yes, I think he does.’

‘Guess we’ll find out,’ Zeke said. ‘If he ever deigns to speak to me.’

‘What would you do?’ Thea asked as the maid cleared their plates and topped up their wine glasses. ‘Would you stay with This Minute?’ It was hard to imagine Zeke coming back to work for Morrison-Ashton, even on his own terms. And if he did he’d be there, in her building, every day...

‘No.’ Zeke’s response was firm. ‘I’m ready to do something new.’ He grinned. ‘In fact, I want to do it all over again.’

‘Start a new business? Why? Why not just enjoy your success for a while?’

‘Like your father?’ Zeke nodded at the head of the table, where Thomas was laughing at something Isabella had said.

Thea shook her head. ‘My dad was never a businessman—you know that. He provided the money, sat on the board...’

‘And left the actual work to my father.’ He held up a hand before Thea could object. ‘I know, I know. Neither one of them could have done it without the other. Hasn’t that always been the legend? They each brought something vital to the table.’

‘It worked,’ Thea pointed out.

‘And now you and Flynn are ready to take it into the next generation. Bring the families together. Spawn the one true heir.’

Thea looked away. ‘You need to stop talking about my wedding like this.’

‘Why? It’s business, isn’t it?’

‘It’s also my future. The rest of my life—and my children’s.’ That shut him up for a moment, unexpectedly. Thea took advantage of the brief silence to bring the conversation back round to the question he’d so neatly avoided. ‘So, you didn’t tell me. Why start up another new business?’

Zeke settled back in his chair, the thin stem of his wine glass resting between his fingers. ‘I guess it’s the challenge. The chance to take something that doesn’t even exist yet, build it up and make it fantastic. Make it mine.’

It sounded exciting. Fresh and fun and everything else Zeke seemed to think it would be. But it also sounded to Thea as if Zeke was reaching for something more than just a successful business venture. Something he might never be able to touch, however hard he tried.

‘You want to be a success,’ she said slowly. ‘But, Zeke, you’ve already succeeded. And you still want more. How will you know when you’ve done enough?’

Zeke turned to look at her, his dark eyes more serious than she’d ever seen them. ‘I’ll know it when I get there.’

But Thea was very afraid that he wouldn’t.

CHAPTER THREE

SO NOW HE KNEW. Had Thea told his dad about the rumours, Zeke wondered, or had the old goat had his own spies on the lookout? Either way, his presence in Italy that week suddenly made a lot more sense. Ezekiel Senior wanted This Minute.

And Zeke had absolutely no intention of giving it to him.

As the rest of the guests enjoyed their dessert Zeke left his spoon on the tablecloth and studied his father across the table. How would he couch it? Would he make it sound as if he was doing Zeke a favour? Or would he—heaven forbid—actually admit that Zeke had achieved something pretty great without the backing of Morrison-Ashton? He’d have to wait to find out.

After dinner, Zeke decided. That would be when his father would finally acknowledge the presence of his youngest son. Probably he’d be summoned to the study. But this time he’d get to go on his own terms. For once Ezekiel wanted something he, Zeke, possessed, rather than the other way round.

That, on its own, made it worth travelling to Flynn and Thea’s wedding.

Zeke only realised he was smiling when Flynn suddenly looked up and caught his eye. Zeke widened his grin, raising an eyebrow at his brother. So, had dear old dad just broken the news to the golden boy? And did that mean Thea hadn’t told her beloved about the rumours she’d heard?

Flynn glanced away again, and Zeke reached for his spoon. ‘You didn’t tell Flynn, then?’

Thea’s dropped her spoon against the edge of her bowl with a clatter. ‘Tell Flynn what?’ she asked, eyes wide.

Interesting. ‘Well, I meant about the This Minute sale,’ he said. ‘But now I’m wondering what else you’ve been keeping from your fiancé.’

Thea rolled her eyes, but it was too late. He’d already seen her instinctive reaction. She was keeping things from Flynn. Zeke had absolutely no doubt at all.

‘I didn’t tell Flynn about the sale because it doesn’t directly affect him and it’s still only a rumour. If your father decides to make a bid for the company I’m sure he’ll fill Flynn in at the appropriate time.’ Thea looked up at him through her lashes. ‘Besides, we don’t talk about you.’

‘At all?’ That hit him somewhere in the middle of his gut and hit hard. Not that he’d been imagining them sitting around the dining table reminiscing about the good old days when Zeke had been there, or anything. But still, despite his initial misgivings over them talking about him in his absence, he thought this might be worse. They didn’t talk about him at all?

‘Apart from Flynn telling me you weren’t coming to the wedding? No.’ Thea shrugged. ‘What would we say? You left.’

And she’d forgotten all about him. Point made. With a sharp jab to the heart.

But of course if they didn’t talk about him... ‘So you never told Flynn about us, either?’

She didn’t look up from her dessert as she answered. ‘Why would I? The past is very firmly in the past. And I had no reason to think you would ever come back at all.’

‘And now?’

Raising her head, she met his gaze head-on. ‘And now there’s simply nothing to say.’

‘Zeke.’

The voice sounded a little creakier, but no less familiar. Tearing his gaze away from Thea’s face, Zeke turned to see his father standing, waiting for him.

‘I’d like a word with you in my office, if you would. After eight years...we have a lot to discuss.’

They had one thing to discuss, as far as Zeke was concerned. But he went anyway. How else would he have the pleasure of turning the old man down?

* * *

Ezekiel had chosen a large room at the front of the villa for his office—one Zeke imagined was more usually used for drinks and canapés than for business. The oversized desk in the centre had to have been brought in from elsewhere in the house, because it looked utterly out of place.

Zeke considered the obvious visitor’s chair, placed across from it, and settled himself into a leather armchair by the empty fireplace instead. He wasn’t a naughty child any more, and that meant he didn’t have to stare at his father over a forbidding desk, waiting for judgement to be handed down, ever again.

‘Sit,’ Ezekiel said, long after Zeke had already done so. ‘Whisky or brandy?’

‘I’d rather get straight down to business,’ Zeke said.

‘As you wish.’ Ezekiel moved towards the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky anyway. Zeke resisted the urge to grind his teeth.

Finally, his father came and settled himself into the armchair opposite, placing his glass on the table between them. ‘So. You’re selling your business.’

‘So the rumour mill tells me,’ Zeke replied, leaning back in his chair and resting his ankle on his opposite knee.

‘I heard more than rumour,’ Ezekiel said. ‘I heard you were in negotiations with Glasshouse.’

Zeke’s shoulders stiffened. Nobody knew that, except Deb and him at the office, the CEO at Glasshouse and his key team. Which meant one or other of them had a leak. Just what he didn’t need.

‘It’s true, then.’ Ezekiel shook his head. ‘Our biggest competitors, Zeke. Why didn’t you just come to me directly? Or is this just another way of trying to get my attention?’

Zeke will never stop trying to best his brother. The words, eight years old, still echoed through Zeke’s head, however hard he tried to move past them. But he didn’t have time for the memory now.

‘I haven’t needed your attention for the last eight years, Father. I don’t need it now.’

‘Really?’ Ezekiel reached for his whisky glass. ‘Are you sure? Because you could have gone anywhere, done anything. Yet you stayed in the country and set up a company that directly competed with the family business.’

‘I stuck to what I knew,’ Zeke countered. Because, okay, annoying his father might have been part of his motivation. But only part.

Ezekiel gave him a long, steady look, and when Zeke didn’t flinch said, ‘Hmm...’

Zeke waited. Time to make the offer, old man.

‘I’m sure that you understand that to have my son working with Glasshouse is...unacceptable. But we can fix this. Come work with us. We’ll pay whatever Glasshouse is paying and you can run your little company under the Morrison-Ashton umbrella. In fact, you could lead our whole digital division.’

Somewhere in there, under the ‘let me fix your mistakes’ vibe, was an actual job offer. A good one. Head of Digital... There was a lot Zeke could do there to bring Morrison-Ashton into the twenty-first century. It would give him enough clout in the company in order not to feel as if Flynn was his boss. And he would be working with Thea every day...

‘No, thanks.’ Zeke stood up. He didn’t need this any more. He’d grown up now. He didn’t need his father’s approval, or a place at the table, or even to be better than Flynn. He was his own man at last. ‘I appreciate the offer, but I’m done with This Minute. Once I sell to Glasshouse I’m on to something new. Something exciting.’

Something completely unconnected to his family. Or Thea’s.

‘Really?’

Ezekiel looked up at him and Zeke recognised the disappointment in his eyes. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen that peculiar mix of being let down and proved right at the same time before.

‘And if I appeal to your sense of family loyalty?’

Zeke barked a laugh. ‘Why would you? You never showed me any. You gave Flynn all the chances, the job, the trust and the confidence. You wanted me to find my own road.’ He crossed to the door, yanking it open. ‘Well, Dad, I found it. And it doesn’t lead to Morrison-Ashton.’

* * *

‘Well,’ Flynn said, dropping to sit beside her on the cushioned swing seat. ‘That was a day.’

‘Yes. Yes, it was.’ Thea took the mug he offered her and breathed in the heavy smell of the coffee. ‘Is this—?’

‘Decaf,’ Flynn assured her. ‘You think I don’t know what my wife-to-be likes?’

‘Less “likes”,’ Thea said, taking a cautious sip. Everyone knew that on a normal day she’d be on her third double espresso well before lunch. ‘More that I don’t need anything else keeping me awake at night right now.’

‘Hmm...’ Flynn settled against the back of the seat and, careful of her coffee cup, wrapped an arm around Thea’s shoulders, pulling her against him. ‘Want to tell me what’s keeping you awake?’

Thea tucked her legs up underneath her, letting Flynn rock the swing seat forward and back, the motion helping to relax the tension in her body.

They didn’t share a room yet; it hadn’t really seemed necessary, given the agreement between them. So he didn’t have to know exactly how many hours she spent staring at the ceiling every night, just waiting for this wedding to be over, for the papers to be signed and for her future to be set and certain. But on the other hand she was marrying the man. He’d be her companion through life from here on in, and she wanted that companionship badly. Which meant telling him at least part of the truth.

‘I guess I’m just nervous about the wedding,’ she admitted.

‘About marrying me?’ Flynn asked. ‘Or getting through the day itself?’

‘Mostly the latter.’ Thea rested her head against his comfortable shoulder and sighed. ‘I just want it to be done. For everyone else to leave and for us to enjoy our honeymoon here in peace. You know?’

‘I really, really do.’

Thea smiled at the heartfelt tone in his voice. This was why a marriage between them would work far better than any of the other relationships she’d fallen into, been passionate about, then had end horribly. They were a fit—a pair. If they actually loved each other it would be a classically perfect match.

But then, love—passion, emotion, pain—would be what drove them apart, too. No, far better this friendship and understanding. It made for a far more peaceful life.

Or it would. Once they got through the wedding.

‘Feeling the strain, huh?’ Thea patted Flynn’s thigh sympathetically. ‘Be grateful. At least my sister didn’t walk in on you in your wedding lingerie this morning.’

‘I don’t have any wedding lingerie,’ Flynn pointed out. ‘I have the same boring black style I wear every day. Hang on. Did Zeke...?’

‘Yep. He said you sent him to fetch me to meet with the wedding planner. So you wouldn’t see me in my dress before the big day.’

‘Sorry,’ Flynn said, even though it obviously wasn’t really his fault. ‘I just know how important the traditions are to you. 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 new life would start the moment he left this place. And suddenly he wanted to savour the last few moments of the old one.

Zeke stepped out onto the terrace, a small smile on his lips as his brother looked up and spotted him.

‘Zeke,’ Flynn said, eyes wary, and Thea’s head jerked up from his shoulder.

‘I wondered where you two had got to,’ Zeke lied. He hadn’t given it a moment’s thought, because he hadn’t imagined they could be like this. Together. ‘Dinner over, then?’

Thea nodded, sitting up and shifting closer to Flynn to make room for Zeke to sit beside them. ‘How did things go? With your father?’

‘Pretty much as expected.’ Zeke eyed the small space on the swing, then perched on the edge of the low table in front of them instead.

‘Which was...?’ Flynn sounded a little impatient. ‘I don’t even know what he wanted to talk to you about. Business, I assume?’

‘You didn’t tell him?’ Zeke asked Thea, eyebrow raised.

‘We were talking about more important things,’ Thea said, which made Flynn smile softly and kiss her hair again.

Zeke’s jaw tightened at the sight. He suspected he didn’t want to know what those ‘more important things’ were. ‘Your father wanted to try and buy my business,’ he told Flynn.

‘He’s your father too,’ Flynn pointed out.

Zeke laughed. ‘Possibly not, after tonight.’

‘You told him no, then?’ Thea guessed. ‘Why? To spite him? You’ve already admitted you want to sell.’

‘He wanted me to come and work for Morrison-Ashton.’

‘And that would be the worst thing ever, of course.’ Sarcasm dripped from her voice. ‘Are you really still so angry with him?’

Tilting his head back, Zeke stared up through the slats of the terrace roof at the stars twinkling through. ‘No,’ he answered honestly. ‘This isn’t... It’s not like it was any more, Thea. I’m not trying to spite him, or hurt him, or pay him back for anything. I just want to move on. Sever all ties and start a whole new life. Maybe a new company, a new field. A new me.’

‘So we won’t be seeing you again after the wedding, then?’ Flynn said, and Zeke realised he’d almost forgotten his brother was even there for a moment. He’d spoken to Thea the same way he’d always talked to Thea—with far more honesty than he’d give anyone else. A bad habit to fall back into.

‘Maybe you two would be worth a visit,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘After all, I’ll need to come and be favourite Uncle Zeke to your kids, right?’

At his words Flynn’s expression softened, and he gave his fiancée a meaningful look. Thea, for her part, glanced down at her hands, but Zeke thought he saw a matching shy smile on her face.

Realisation slammed into him, hitting him hard in the chest until he almost gasped for breath. That was what they’d been talking about—their ‘more important things’. Children. He’d been so sure that this marriage was a sham, that there was nothing between them. But he hadn’t imagined kids. Even when he’d made the comment he’d expected an evasion, a convenient practised answer. Another sign that this wasn’t real.

Not this. Not the image in his head of Thea’s belly swollen with his brother’s child. Not the thought of how much better parents Flynn and Thea would be than his own father. Of a little girl with Thea’s dark hair curling around a perfect face.

‘Well, you know you’ll always be welcome in our home,’ Flynn said.

The words were too formal for brothers, too distant for anything he’d ever shared with Thea. And Zeke knew without a doubt that he’d never, ever be taking them up on the offer. Maybe he didn’t love Thea any more, but that tightly stitched line of regret inside him still pulled when she tugged on the thread between them.

He couldn’t give Thea what she wanted—never had been able to. She’d made that very clear. And in two days she’d be married, that thread would be cut, and he’d never see her again.

‘I should get to bed,’ Thea said, unfolding her legs from under her. ‘Another long day tomorrow.’

Flynn smiled up at her as she stood. ‘I’ll see you in the morning?’

Thea nodded, then with a quick glance at Zeke bent and kissed Flynn on the lips. It looked soft, but sure, and Zeke got the message—loud and clear, thanks. She’d made her choice—again—and she was sticking with it.

Fine. It was her choice to make, after all. But Zeke knew that the scar of regret would never leave him if he wasn’t sure she was happy with the choice she was making. If he wanted the freedom of that cut thread, he had to be able to leave her behind entirely. He had to be sure she knew what she was doing.

Zeke got to his feet. ‘I’ll walk you to your room.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THIS WAS EXACTLY what she didn’t want. Which, in fairness, was probably why Zeke was doing it.

It had been too strange, sitting there with the two brothers, talking about her future as if Zeke might be part of it—in a role she’d simply never expected him to take. Hard enough to transition from fiancée to wife to mother with Flynn, without adding in her ex as her brother-in-law. It had all been so much easier when she’d imagined he was out of her life for good. That she’d never have to see him again. She’d got over the hurt of that loss years before.

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