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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 (#ulink_5b1e2d87-b68d-51fc-b0d0-91d856a364fd)
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.’
