that ancient secret—was untenable. It made her feel tainted.
Ava dragged in air to fill her lungs. ‘I don’t like the idea it’s my virginity you’re interested in, not me.’
‘That’s what’s bothering you?’
His face cleared. He captured her hand, lifting it. His tongue laved the centre of her palm, right up to her wrist, and she shivered as her body caught alight.
‘Believe me, virgins per se don’t tempt me. It’s you I want, Ava. And not just in bed.’
Sincerity blazed in his face, and she felt her doubts crumble.
‘What do you want, Flynn?’
Last night she’d felt on the brink of something—not just sex, but understanding this man who’d transformed her life from ordinary to heady and exciting. If she’d been prone to fantasy she’d have likened him to Prince Charming, sweeping all before him. But Prince Charming with an earthy edge and, despite his suave cloak of wealth, a hint of the maverick about him still. And, just occasionally, a hint of ruthlessness that gave her pause.
Flynn straightened, glancing over his shoulder, reminding her they were crammed against a wall in a nearly deserted street.
‘Come with me.’ He clasped her hand in his and took a half-step back. ‘I have something organised that I think you’ll like. We can discuss this then.’
Ava stood her ground. She needed answers. With Flynn she teetered between absolute certainty that they were two halves of a whole, made for each other, and the rare but unnerving idea that she’d missed something vital. That their relationship wasn’t the wildly romantic affair it seemed.
She had to know.
‘Tell me now. I need to understand.’
Night-dark eyes scanned her face, coming to rest on her mouth. Was her bottom lip sticking out? Her father had accused her of ugly pouting if she ever showed a hint of rebellion.
But Flynn didn’t look at her as if she were ugly. The heat in his stare sent tingles through her. The air between them fizzed with energy.
‘Please, Flynn.’
Did he hear her yearning?
He smiled ruefully, shaking his head. ‘I had it all planned. It wasn’t going to be like this.’
‘What wasn’t going to be like this?’
There it was again—that look in his eyes that told her Flynn wasn’t like the city suits her father had mixed with. Despite his designer gold watch, expensive clothes and high-powered business meetings there was something elemental about Flynn.
To her amazement, he dropped to his knees on the cobblestones. To one knee, to be precise. His wry half-smile drove a cleft down his cheek, almost distracting her from the remarkable sight of him kneeling before her.
Once more he raised her hand to his mouth and his lips pressed her flesh. The hint of humour disappeared.
‘Will you marry me, Ava?’
Her stomach swooped and did an unnerving loop the loop. Her hand began to shake in his.
‘I want you in my bed, sweetheart. But I want much more. I want you to be my wife.’
‘I...’ She goggled. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected a proposal. Her heart soared. Flynn wanted to spend his life with her. He cared more than she’d ever guessed possible.
But marriage!
‘We’ve only known each other a week.’
His brows rose. ‘We’ve known each other for years.’
But how well? Seven years older than her, he’d usually been busy helping his father on the estate grounds, or running errands for his mother in the Hall kitchen. After he’d left for London she’d only seen him on brief visits home.
Yet despite that, she’d known his character. His integrity.
Then there’d been the night of the car crash. The night that had changed everything. Flynn had no idea how much his help had meant to her. Not merely because of the accident but because he’d given her time and respite to see that she’d had to go back and face her demons.
He’d cared for her as no one in that house had.
His support had strengthened her.
She’d been half in love with him even then.
Was it any wonder she’d fallen for him now? He embodied all she craved in a man: honour, respect, trust. Passion.
‘But...marriage!’
Still he knelt. He showed no self-consciousness.
‘You don’t like the idea?’
‘I’ve never thought of it.’ She’d never daydreamed of weddings—probably because she’d seen the reality of her parents’ marriage and knew it for a prison sentence, not a happy-ever-after. Even now, when she was in love with Flynn, the idea of marriage made her hesitate.
‘Think about it,’ he murmured. ‘You and me together.’
His eyes were smoky with passion and Ava gulped. Outrageous as the sudden proposal was, it was shockingly tempting. To be with Flynn always...
‘I need time,’ she blurted, then waited for his gaze to turn needle-sharp. When her father hadn’t immediately got his own way he’d had a look that could slice you off at the knees.
Flynn merely nodded and rose. ‘Of course.’
He looped her arm through his. His touch reassured, but the way he held her to his side smacked of possessiveness.
Instead of it rankling, Ava revelled in it. Flynn loved her! Shock mingled with delight.
‘Come on. There’s somewhere I want to take you. We can talk there.’
‘There’ turned out to be a luxurious terrace restaurant on the river. They had a perfect view of the Charles Bridge with its statues, the quaint Bridge Tower rising at one end and the old town. Swans and small craft glided across the glinting river.
Magically, although it was lunchtime, they had the place to themselves. Or perhaps not so magically. Ava saw the head waiter turning people away from the door.
‘Did you book out the whole restaurant?’ She gasped, half laughing at the absurdity of the idea.
Flynn took her hand across the starched white linen tablecloth, his touch warm, his eyes mesmerising. ‘I wanted to be alone with you.’
‘But...’ She knew he was successful. The little he’d told her about his business and the clothes he wore told her that. But to book an entire restaurant—moreover, one with such an air of exclusive luxury...? ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
