LITMIR.BIZ

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her!’ Mr Teary-Pinstripes called. ‘Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!’ The rest of his table picked up the chant. Then the rest of the room.

      Suddenly, Helena almost wished the corset was tight enough to make her faint.

      Imagining a fairy tale future wasn’t the same as kissing the prince. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They’d managed to avoid it in the church, where at least it would have been expected to be a chaste and swift kiss. Here, now, after all the wine and the toasts...these people wanted the real thing, and anything less was only going to start up rumours again.

      She couldn’t let that happen. Not after Flynn’s speech had tidied away all the talk so neatly.

      If they wanted a kiss, she was going to have to give it to them.

      She turned to Flynn, eyebrows raised, and he echoed the gesture. ‘I never thought my first kiss with my husband would be quite so public,’ she murmured, quiet enough that she knew it wouldn’t be heard over the chanting.

      ‘It’s just for show.’ He flashed her a quick smile.

      Just a show. Of course. They weren’t really in love, whatever Flynn had suggested in his speech. This marriage was only temporary, just until they could sort everything out. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. Not when she couldn’t give Flynn what he wanted most.

      None of which explained why there seemed to be too much blood in her veins, or why she couldn’t look away from Flynn’s caramel-brown eyes as he smiled down at her.

      Helena’s heart raced as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, the chanting turning to cheering around them.

      It’s just for show. The words spun in her head, but all Helena could think as Flynn bent in to kiss her was: If this is just a show, how am I going to survive the real thing?

      * * *

      Just a show. That was the key.

      Except it wasn’t.

      Yes, the only reason his first kiss with his wife was taking place in front of a captive audience was to prove a point—to show them that Helena wasn’t some sort of poor consolation prize. But that wasn’t enough. He had to show Helena that too.

      And Helena knew the truth.

      If he wanted her to stick with this—to believe they had a real future together—well, that future had to start right now. With their first kiss.

      ‘Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!’ The chanting around them faded into nothing as he leant in closer, his eyes closing as his lips brushed against hers, softly at first, not wanting to spook her. But then, oh, then... Flynn’s fingers clutched at her hip, the silk of her dress slipping against his skin as he deepened the kiss.

      She tasted like champagne and gold, expensive and sparkling, her mouth warm and willing under his. He’d wanted to prove a point with this kiss but, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was. All he could think about was how soft her body was against his, how perfectly it fitted to him.

      He opened his eyes, wanting to drink in the sight of her too, wanting to see her reaction, to know if she was as affected as him. But Helena’s eyes were closed and, along with his vision, his hearing seemed to return too—or at least his awareness of it.

      The chanting had turned to cheering—when, Flynn didn’t know. But he was suddenly aware that he was making a spectacle of himself—and Helena—by falling so completely into what was supposed to be a simple kiss. Just a moment to appease the crowd, and a promise of what could follow later.

      If their first kiss had knocked him senseless, what would their second do to him? Never mind their third and fourth...

      Reluctantly, Flynn loosened his hold on his wife and pulled back, just enough to signal to Helena that the kiss was over. Her eyelids fluttered open and Flynn was gratified to see misty confusion in her bluebell bright eyes, too. At least he wasn’t the only one losing his mind over a kiss.

      ‘Well,’ Isabella said in a low voice as they pulled apart, ‘at least no one here is left in any doubt that you both got what you wanted out of this arrangement.’ Flynn couldn’t tell if his mother disapproved of that or not. It was often hard to tell with Isabella. He found it easiest to assume that she did disapprove, most of the time.

      Not that it made any difference now. He was married to Helena and there was nothing anyone could do about that.

      The cheering had turned to chatter and laughter now, after a smattering of applause. Helena’s cheeks were pink as she sat down, and Flynn flattered himself that the blush had less to do with her corset than it had.

      ‘Nearly there now,’ he murmured to her, reaching to take her hand. She let him hold it long enough for a reassuring squeeze then tugged it away again, giving him a polite, but non-committal, smile.

      Flynn frowned. What had changed? She’d been right there with him in that kiss, he could tell. So why the cool distance now?

      As the guests finished their coffees and headed through to the adjoining room, where a bar had been set up for them while the band set up on the terrace, Flynn studied his bride as she sipped tea, and considered.

      Helena had been instrumental in the wedding planning, but she hadn’t been part of the prenuptial contract discussions. But she was Thea’s sister. They’d have talked about the terms of the agreement, surely? Which meant that Helena probably knew that marital relations hadn’t been contractually required for the first couple of years. Thea had wanted time to settle into married life, and to continue to build up her career, before they started a family. And, since they weren’t in love, or even in lust, sex wasn’t really necessary until then. At least, on paper.

      There was a firm fidelity clause, though. And Thea had changed her mind, just two nights ago, about what she wanted from the marriage in physical terms. She’d wanted them to get to know each other as man and wife, and have that time together first before kids.

      Although how much that decision had to do with her trying to hide her feelings for his brother, Flynn suspected he was better off not knowing.

      Still, maybe she hadn’t discussed that change of plans with Helena. And, even if she had, there was no contract between Helena and him. No carefully debated and worded agreement, no consensus of opinion. Just confusion, lack of clarity and the potential for miscommunication.

      This was why the world needed paperwork.

      He’d have to talk to her, discuss the situation and what they wanted to happen next. It was useful to have a good idea of their individual needs before they got the solicitors involved, or at least that was what he’d found with her sister.

      But that would have to wait until he got her alone. And with two hundred wedding guests still watching them closely—either waiting for another kiss or some sign of what really went down that morning—Flynn didn’t see that happening very soon.

      A smile crept on to his face as a thought occurred to him. There was one chance for them to be almost alone, if still observed, very soon indeed.

      ‘What are you smiling at?’ Helena asked from beside him.

      ‘I’m just looking forward to our first dance,’ he answered honestly.

      ‘Well, it can’t be any more of a spectacle than our first kiss.’ Helena covered her eyes for a moment, obviously embarrassed.

      ‘Don’t knock the kiss,’ Flynn said, leaning back in his chair. ‘I think that kiss might set the tone for our whole marriage.’

      Helena’s gaze flashed up to his face, uncertainty in her eyes. Flynn tried to give her a reassuring look. She’d feel better once they’d agreed terms. And he’d feel better once he knew she was in this for the long haul. He could persuade her that sticking with the marriage was better for everybody, he was sure.

      Even if he had to kiss her a hundred more times to convince her.

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