♥ HOW MUCH FOR AN HEIR'S HEART? - ZARRY ♥

Finale (1)

Zayn lingered in bed, unwilling to leave the warmth of Harry's soft, naked body. Truthfully, there was no place he'd rather be than here.

He reached for Harry, gently waking him with warm kisses. He loved the way Harry woke, all sleepy-eyed and confused. As if he wasn't entirely sure he should be here. As if he'd emerged from a dream.

It was Zayn's dream; big, bold and erotic.

Harry blinked, twitching his nose as the delicious smell of hot coffee filled the air.

"Morning," Zayn muttered against his cheek.

Harry stretched, his exotic body moving in delightful torture against Zayn's growing arousal, and he felt Harry's smile. "Is that coffee I smell?"

"Maybe." He nibbled Harry's earlobe, grinning against his neck as Harry shivered. In the next second, he leapt and grabbed his robe, swishing it around his gloriously naked body with a laugh. "I'll be back."

Zayn flopped back on the bed with a mock sigh. "Don't drink it all. And bring me a cup!" he called as Harry padded out the door.

An unfamiliar warmth spread over Zayn's body, seeping into his bones.

He was... content. Happy.

Damn, he was ecstatic. For once, he felt like he belonged. He'd been working hard these past few weeks, driven by the foreign compulsion to convince the Tomlinsons of his commitment. He knew they were the kind of people who judged by deeds, not by words, so he'd personally ensured that Xander Ritz was no longer a threat, that his mates on the board have been quietly handed an ultimatum to leave or face criminal charges.

Instead of dark apprehension, he was surprised to feel relief. The relief that it was all over, finally. He felt confident, almost optimistic, about the future. A future that hadn't felt so right until now. Until Harry.

Zayn had been missing something... Something that began with a kiss and burnt bushfire hot when he and Harry made love. A flame he'd been determinedly ignoring to focus on Tomlinsons.

The truth hit him like a speeding truck. What he'd been missing out on all those years while clawing his way to the top.

Yes, he'd had Reynold's family, but despite the glorious welcome they'd always given him, he'd always felt on the fringe, an outsider looking in. He'd been blessed with Tricia.

She wasn't perfect or of his flesh and blood, but a generous, supporting woman all the same. One who loved him completely, who'd been prepared to do anything for him.

The power of a parent's love for a child was real; it was tangible. The kind of love Harry had for his mother and his father. The kind of love he wanted to share one day with his own child.

The object of his thoughts now stood in the doorway, fully dressed, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"What, no coffee?" His teasing grin fell at the tight look on Harry's face. Zayn's eyes went quickly to the papers. The prenup.

"When did you get this?" Harry's voice was light, almost calm.

"A few days ago."

"I need to sign them, yeah?"

No. Zayn sat up and nodded. With an odd, dignified composure, Harry made his way over to the bedside table, picked up a pen and signed with a flourish.

"Aren't you going to read it?"

Harry straightened. "I'm sure you've addressed every predicament, Zayn."

Zayn frowned as Harry walked over to the door. "I need to make sure the ballroom's been cleared plus Gigi invited me to lunch later. I might not see you until tonight." Harry gave him a fleeting smile, devoid of warmth. Then he was gone.

What the hell just happened?

Zayn threw off the covers and grabbed the prenup. If Harry had only just read it, he'd realise Zayn wanted him for longer than a year. In fact, Zayn was so confident about their deal that he'd actually made an allowance for kids resulting in their union.

It was all there, in black and white. Clause 25A paragraph C...

Zayn paused as realisation suddenly hit, then groaned long and loud.

You fool.