Читать книгу Miss Prim's Greek Island Fling - Michelle Douglas - Страница 11

‘YOU HAD BREAKFAST YET, Squirt?’

Audra almost jumped out of her skin at the deep male voice and the hard-muscled body that materialised directly in front of her. She bit back a yelp and pressed a hand to her heart. After sitting here waiting for him to emerge, she couldn’t believe she’d been taken off guard.

He chuckled. ‘You never used to be jumpy.’

Yeah, well, that was before Thomas Farquhar had locked her in a cupboard. The laughter in his warm brown eyes faded as they narrowed. Not that she had any intention of telling him that. She didn’t want his pity. ‘Broken sleep never leaves me at my best,’ she said in as tart a voice as she could muster. Which was, admittedly, pretty tart.

He just grinned. ‘I find it depends on the reasons for the broken sleep.’ And then he sent her a broad wink.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Glass shattering and having to call the police doesn’t fall into the fun category, Finn.’

‘Do you want me to apologise again? Do the full grovel?’ He waggled his eyebrows. ‘I’m very good at a comprehensive grovel.’

‘No, thank you.’ She pressed her lips together. She bet he was good at a lot of things.

She realised she still held her phone. She recalled the conversation she’d just had with Rupert and set it to the table, heat flushing through her cheeks.

Finn glanced at her and at the phone before cracking eggs into the waiting frying pan. ‘So... Rupe rang to warn you off, huh?’

Her jaw dropped. How on earth...? Ah. ‘He rang you too.’

‘You want a couple of these?’ He lifted an egg in her direction.

‘No...thank you,’ she added as a belated afterthought. It struck her that she always found it hard to remember her manners around Finn.

‘Technically, I called him.’ The frying pan spat and sizzled. ‘But he seems to think I have some magic ability to make women swoon at my feet, whereby I pick them off at my leisure and have my wicked way with them before discarding them as is my wont.’

She frowned. Had she imagined the bitterness behind the lightness?

‘He read me the Riot Act where you’re concerned.’ He sent her a mock serious look. ‘So, Squirt, while I know it’ll be hard for you to contain your disappointment, I’m afraid I’m not allowed to let a single one of my love rays loose in your direction.’

She couldn’t help it, his nonsense made her laugh.

With an answering grin, he set a plate of eggs and toast in front of her and slid into the seat opposite.

‘But I said I didn’t want any.’

Her stomach rumbled, making a liar of her. Rather than tease her, though, he shrugged. ‘Sorry, I must’ve misheard.’

Finn never misheard anything, but the smell of butter on toast made her mouth water. She picked up her knife and fork. It’d be wasteful not to eat it. ‘Did Rupert order you to feed me up?’ she grumbled.

He shook his head, and shaggy hair—damp from the shower—fell into his eyes and curled about his neck and some pulse inside her flared to life before she brutally strangled it.

‘Nope. Rupe’s only dictum was to keep my love rays well and truly away from his little sister. All uttered in his most stern of tones.’

She did her best not to choke on her toast and eggs. ‘Doesn’t Rupert know me at all?’ She tossed the words back at him with what she hoped was a matching carelessness.

‘See? That’s what I told him. I said, Audra’s too smart to fall for a guy like me.’

Fall for? Absolutely not. Sleep with...?

What on earth...? She frowned and forced the thought away. She didn’t think of Finn in those terms.

Really?

She rolled her shoulders. So what if she’d always thought him too good-looking for his own good? That didn’t mean anything. In idle moments she might find herself thinking he’d be an exciting lover. If she were the kind of person who did flings with devil-may-care men. But she wasn’t. And that didn’t mean anything either.

‘So...?’

She glanced up at the question in his voice.

‘How long have you been down here?’

‘Two days.’

‘And how long are you here for?’

She didn’t really know. ‘A fortnight, maybe. I’ve taken some annual leave.’

He sent her a sharp glance from beneath brows so perfectly shaped they made her the tiniest bit jealous. ‘If you took all the leave accrued by you, I bet you could stay here until the middle of next year.’

Which would be heaven—absolute heaven.

‘What about you? How long are you staying?’

‘I was thinking a week or two. Do some training...get some condition back.’

He was going to overdo it. Well, not on her watch!

‘But if my being here is intruding on your privacy, I can shoot off to my uncle’s place.’

‘No need for that. It’ll be nice to have some company.’

His eyes narrowed and she realised she’d overplayed her hand. It wasn’t her usual sentiment where Finn was concerned. Normally she acted utterly disdainful and scornful. They sparred. They didn’t buddy up.

She lifted her fork and pointed it at him. ‘As long as you stop calling me Squirt, stop blathering nonsense about love rays...and cook me breakfast every day.’

He laughed and she let out a slow breath.

‘You’ve got yourself a deal... Audra.’

Her name slid off his tongue like warm honey and it was all she could do not to groan. She set her knife and fork down and pushed her plate away.

‘I had no idea you didn’t like being called Squirt.’

She didn’t. Not really.

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Don’t hold Rupert’s protectiveness against him.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t.’ And then grimaced. ‘Well, not much. I know I’m lucky to have him...and Cora and Justin.’ It was a shame that Finn didn’t have a brother or sister. He did have Rupert, though, and the two men were as close as brothers.

‘He’s a romantic.’

That made her glance up. ‘Rupert?’

‘Absolutely.’

He nodded and it made his hair do that fall-in-his-eyes thing again and she didn’t know why, but it made her stomach clench.

‘On the outside he acts as hard as nails, but on the inside...’

‘He’s a big marshmallow,’ she finished.

‘He’d go to the ends of the earth for someone he loved.’

That was true. She nodded.

‘See? A romantic.’

She’d never thought about it in those terms.

His phone on the table buzzed. She didn’t mean to look, but she saw the name Trixie flash up on the screen before Finn reached over and switched it off. Okay.

‘So...’ He dusted off his hands as if ready to take on the world. ‘What were you planning to do while you were here?’

Dear God. Think of nice, easy, relaxing things. ‘Um... I was going to lie on the beach and catch some rays—’ not love rays ‘—float about in the sea for a bit.’

‘Sounds good.’

Except he wouldn’t be content with lying around and floating, would he? He’d probably challenge himself to fifty laps out to the buoy and back every day. ‘Read a book.’

His lip curled. ‘Read a book?’

She tried not to wince at the scorn that threaded through his voice.

‘You come to one of the most beautiful places on earth to read a book?’

She tried to stop her shoulders from inching up to her ears. ‘I like reading, and do you know how long it’s been since I read a book for pleasure?’

‘How long?’

‘Over a year,’ she mumbled.

He spread his hands. ‘If you like to read, why don’t you do more of it?’

Because she’d been working too hard. Because she’d let Thomas distract and manipulate her.

‘And what else?’

She searched her mind. ‘I don’t cook.’

He glanced at their now empty plates and one corner of his mouth hooked up. ‘So I’ve noticed.’

‘But I want to learn to cook...um...croissants.’

His brow furrowed. ‘Why?’

Because they took a long time to make, didn’t they? The pastry needed lots of rolling out, didn’t it? Which meant, if she could trick him into helping her, he’d be safe from harm while he was rolling out pastry. ‘Because I love them.’ That was true enough. ‘But I’ve had to be strict with myself.’

‘Strict, how?’

‘I’ve made a decision—in the interests of both my waistline and my heart health—that I’m only allowed to eat croissants that I make myself.’

He leaned back and let loose with a long low whistle. ‘Wow, Squ—Audra! You really know how to let your hair down and party, huh?’

No one in all her life had ever accused her of being a party animal.

‘A holiday with reading and baking at the top of your list.’

His expression left her in no doubt what he thought about that. ‘This is supposed to be a holiday—some R & R,’ she shot back, stung. ‘I’m all go, go, go at work, but here I want time out.’

‘Boring,’ he sing-songed.

‘Relaxing,’ she countered.

‘You’ve left the recreation part out of your R & R equation. I mean, look at you. You even look...’

She had to clamp her hands around the seat of her chair to stop from leaping out of it. ‘Boring?’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Buttoned-up. Tense. The opposite of relaxed.’

‘It’s the effect you and your love rays always seem to have on me.’

He tsk-tsked and shook his head. ‘We’re not supposed to mention the love rays, remember?’

Could she scream yet?

‘I mean, look at your hair. You have it pulled back in a bun.’

She touched a hand to her hair. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘A bun is for the boardroom, not the beach.’

She hated wearing her hair down and have it tickle her face.

‘Well, speaking of hair, you might want to visit a hairdresser yourself when you’re next in the village,’ she shot back.

‘But I visited my hairdresser only last week.’ He sent her a grin full of wickedness and sin. ‘The delectable Monique assured me this look is all the rage at the moment.’

He had a hairdresser called Monique...who was delectable? She managed to roll her eyes. ‘The too-long-for-the-boardroom-just-right-for-the-beach look?’

‘Precisely. She said the same about the stubble.’

She’d been doing her best not to notice that stubble. She was trying to keep the words dead sexy from forming in her brain.

‘What do you think?’ He ran a hand across his jawline, preening. It should’ve made him look ridiculous. Especially as he was hamming it up and trying to look ridiculous. But she found herself having to jam down on the temptation to reach across and brush her palm across it to see if it was as soft and springy as it looked.

She mentally slapped herself. ‘I think it looks...scruffy.’ In the best possible way. ‘But it probably provides good protection against the sun, which is wise in these climes.’

He simply threw his head back and laughed, not taking the slightest offence. The strain that had deepened the lines around his eyes last night had eased. And when he rose to take their dishes to the sink he moved with an easy fluidity that belied his recent injuries.

He almost died up there on that mountain.

She went cold all over.

‘Audra?’

She glanced up to find him staring at her, concern in his eyes. She shook herself. ‘What’s your definition of a good holiday, then?’

‘Here on the island?’

He’d started to wash the dishes so she rose to dry them. ‘Uh-huh, here on the island.’

‘Water sports,’ he said with relish.

‘What kind of water sports?’ Swimming and kayaking were gentle enough, but—

‘On the other side of the island is the most perfect cove for windsurfing and sailing.’

But...but he could hurt himself.

‘Throw in some water-skiing and hang-gliding and I’d call that just about the perfect holiday.’

He could kill himself! Lord, try explaining that to Rupert. ‘No way.’

He glanced at her. ‘When did you become such a scaredy-cat, Audra Russel?’

She realised he thought her ‘No way’ had been in relation to herself, which was just as well because if he realised she’d meant it for him he’d immediately go out and throw himself off the first cliff he came across simply to spite her.

And while it might be satisfying to say I told you so if he did come to grief, she had a feeling that satisfaction would be severely tempered if the words were uttered in a hospital ward...or worse.

‘Why don’t you let your hair down for once, take a risk? You might even find it’s fun.’

She bit back a sigh. Maybe that was what she was afraid of. One risk could lead to another, and before she knew it she could’ve turned her whole life upside down. And she wasn’t talking sex with her brother’s best friend here either. Which—obviously—wasn’t going to happen. She was talking about her job and her whole life. It seemed smarter to keep a tight rein on all her risk-taking impulses. She was sensible, stable and a rock to all her family. That was who she was. She repeated the words over and over like a mantra until she’d fixed them firmly in her mind again.

She racked her brain to think of a way to control Finn’s risk-taking impulses too. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with some lazy R & R, Finn Sullivan.’ She used his full name in the same way he’d used hers. ‘You should try it some time.’

His eyes suddenly gleamed. ‘I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll try your kind of holiday R & R if you’ll try mine?’

She bit her lip, her pulse quickening. This could be the perfect solution. ‘So you’d be prepared to laze around here with a book if I...if I try windsurfing and stuff?’

‘Yep. Quid pro quo.’

‘Meaning?’

‘One day we do whatever you choose. The next day we do whatever I choose.’

She turned to hang up the tea towel so he couldn’t see the self-satisfied smile that stretched across her face. For at least half of his stay she’d be able to keep him out of trouble. As for the other half...she could temper his pace—be so inept he’d have to slow down to let her keep up or have to spend so much time teaching her that there’d been no time for him to be off risking his own neck. Perfect.

She swung back. ‘Despite what you say, I’m not a scaredy-cat.’

‘And despite what you think, I’m not hyperactive.’

* * *

Finn held his breath as he watched Audra weigh up his suggestion. She was actually considering it. Which was surprising. He’d expected her to tell him to take a flying leap and stalk off to read her book.

But she was actually considering his suggestion and he didn’t know why. He thought he’d need to tease and rile her more, bring her latent competitive streak to the fore, where she’d accept his challenge simply to save face. Still, he had tossed out the bait of her proving that her way was better than his. Women were always trying to change him. Maybe Audra found that idea attractive too?

In the next moment he shook his head. That’d only be the case if she were interested in him as a romantic prospect. And she’d made it clear that wasn’t the case.

Thank God.

He eyed that tight little bun and swallowed.

‘I’ll agree to your challenge...’

He tried to hide his surprise. She would? He hadn’t even needed to press her.

‘On two conditions.’

Ha! He knew it couldn’t be that easy. ‘Which are?’

‘I get to go first.’

He made a low sweeping bow. ‘Of course—ladies first, that always went without saying.’ It was a minor concession and, given how much he still hurt, one he didn’t mind making. They could pick up the pace tomorrow.

‘And the challenge doesn’t start until tomorrow.’

He opened his mouth to protest, but she forged on. ‘We need to go shopping. There’s hardly any food in the place. And I’m not wasting my choice of activities on practicalities like grocery shopping, thank you very much.’

‘We could get groceries delivered.’

‘But it’d be nice to check out the produce at the local market. Rupert likes to support the local businesses.’

And while she was here she’d consider herself Rupert’s representative. And it was true—what she did here would reflect on her brother. The Russels had become a bit of a fixture in Kyanós life over the last few years.

‘I also want to have a deliciously long browse in the bookstore. And you’ll need to select a book too, you know?’

Oh, joy of joys. He was going to make her run two miles for that.

‘And...’ she shrugged ‘...consider it a fact-finding mission—we can research what the island has to offer and put an itinerary together.’

Was she really going to let him choose half of her holiday activities for the next week or two? Excellent. By the time he was through with her, she’d have colour in her cheeks, skin on her bones—not to mention some muscle tone and a spring in her step. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal...on one condition.’

Her eyebrows lifted.

‘That you lose the bun.’ He couldn’t think straight around that bun. Whenever he glanced at it, he was seized by an unholy impulse to release it. It distracted him beyond anything.

Without another word, she reached up to pull the pins from her bun, and a soft cloud of fair hair fell down around her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed and she thrust out her chin. ‘Better?’

It took an effort of will to keep a frown from his face. A tight band clamped around his chest.

‘Is it beachy enough for you?’

‘A hundred per cent better,’ he managed, fighting the urge to reach out and touch a strand, just to see if it was as silky and soft as it looked.

She smirked and pulled it back into a ponytail. ‘There, the bun is gone.’

But the ponytail didn’t ease the tightness growing in his chest, not to mention other places either. It bounced with a perky insolence that had him aching to reach out and give it a gentle tug. For pity’s sake, it was just hair!

She stilled, and then her hands went to her hips. ‘Are you feeling okay, Finn?’

He shook himself. ‘Of course I am. Why?’

‘You gave in to my conditions without a fight. That’s not like you. Normally you’d bicker with me and angle for more.’

Damn! He had to remember how quick she was, and keep his wits about him.

‘If you want a few more days before embarking on our challenge, that’s fine with me. I mean, you only just got the cast off your arm.’

He clenched his jaw so hard it started to ache.

‘I understand you beat yourself up pretty bad on that mountain.’

She paused as if waiting for him to confirm that, but he had no intention of talking about his accident.

She shrugged. ‘And you looked pretty rough last night so...’

‘So...what?’

‘So if you needed a couple of days to regroup...’

Anger directed solely at himself pooled in his stomach. ‘The accident was two month ago, Squirt.’ He called her Squirt deliberately, to set her teeth on edge. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’

She shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’ But she didn’t look convinced. ‘I’m leaving for the village in half an hour if you want to come along. But if you want to stay here and do push-ups and run ten miles on the beach then I’m more than happy to select a book for you.’

‘Not a chance.’ He shuddered to think what she would make him read as a penance. ‘I’ll be ready in twenty.’

‘Suit yourself.’ She moved towards the foyer and the stairs. And the whole time her ponytail swayed in jaunty mockery. She turned when she reached the foyer’s archway. ‘Finn?’

He hoped to God she hadn’t caught him staring. ‘What?’

‘The name’s Audra, not Squirt. That was the deal. Three strikes and you’re out. That’s Strike One.’

She’d kick him out if he... He stared after her and found himself grinning. She wasn’t going to let him push her around and he admired her for it.

* * *

‘I’ll drive,’ Finn said, thirty minutes later.

‘I have the car keys,’ Audra countered, sliding into the driver’s seat of the hybrid Rupert kept on the island for running back and forth to the village.

To be perfectly honest, he didn’t care who drove. He just didn’t want Audra to think him frail or in need of babying. Besides, it was only ten minutes into the village.

One advantage of being passenger, though, was the unencumbered opportunity to admire the views, and out here on the peninsula the views were spectacular. Olive trees interspersed with the odd cypress and ironwood tree ranged down the slopes, along with small scrubby shrubs bursting with flowers—some white and some pink. And beyond it all was the unbelievable, almost magical blue of the Aegean Sea. The air from the open windows was warm and dry, fragrant with salt and rosemary, and something inside him started to unhitch. He rested his head back and breathed it all in.

‘Glorious, isn’t it?’

He glanced across at her profile. She didn’t drive as if she needed to be anywhere in a hurry. Her fingers held the steering wheel in a loose, relaxed grip, and the skin around her eyes and mouth was smooth and unblemished. The last time he’d seen her she’d been in a rush, her knuckles white around her briefcase and her eyes narrowed—no doubt her mind focussed on the million things on her to-do list.

She glanced across. ‘What?’

‘I was just thinking how island life suits you.’

Her brows shot up, and she fixed her attention on the road in front again, her lips twitching. ‘Wow, you must really hate my bun.’

No, he loved that bun.

Not that he had any intention of telling her that.

She flicked him with another of her cool glances. ‘Do you know anyone that this island life wouldn’t suit?’

‘Me...in the long term. I’d go stir-crazy after a while.’ He wasn’t interested in holidaying his whole life away.

What are you interested in doing with the rest of your life, then?

He swallowed and shoved the question away, not ready to face the turmoil it induced, focussed his attention back on Audra.

‘And probably you too,’ he continued. ‘Seems to me you don’t like being away from the office for too long.’

Something in her tensed, though her fingers still remained loose and easy on the wheel. He wanted to turn more fully towards her and study her to find out exactly what had changed, but she’d challenge such a stare, and he couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t put her on the defensive. Getting her to relax and have fun was the remit, not making her tense and edgy. His mention of work had probably just been an unwelcome reminder of Farquhar.

And it was clear she wanted to talk about Farquhar as much as he wanted to talk about his accident.

He cleared his throat. ‘But in terms of a short break, I don’t think anything can beat this island.’

‘Funnily enough, that’s one argument you won’t get from me.’

He didn’t know why, but her words made him laugh.

They descended into the village and her sigh of appreciation burrowed into his chest. ‘It’s such a pretty harbour.’

She steered the car down the narrow street to the parking area in front of the harbour wall. They sat for a moment to admire the scene spread before them. An old-fashioned ferry chugged out of the cove, taking passengers on the two-hour ride to the mainland. Yachts with brightly coloured sails bobbed on their moorings. The local golden stone of the harbour wall provided the perfect foil for the deep blue of the water. To their left houses in the same golden stone, some of them plastered brilliant white, marched up the hillside, the bright blue of their doors and shutters making the place look deliciously Mediterranean.

Audra finally pushed out of the car and he followed. She pulled her hair free of its band simply to capture it again, including the strand that had worked its way loose, and retied it. ‘I was just going to amble along the main shopping strip for a bit.’

She gestured towards the cheerful curve of shops that lined the harbour, the bunting from their awnings fluttering in the breeze. Barrels of gaily coloured flowers stood along the strip at intervals. If there was a more idyllic place on earth, he was yet to find it.

‘Sounds good to me.’ While she was ambling she’d be getting a dose of sun and fresh air. ‘Do you mind if I tag along?’ He asked because he’d called her Squirt earlier to deliberately rub her up the wrong way and he regretted it now.

Cool blue eyes surveyed him and he couldn’t read them at all. ‘I mean to take my time. I won’t be rushed. I do enough rushing in my real life and...’

Her words trailed off and he realised she thought he meant to whisk her through the shopping at speed and...and what? Get to the things he wanted to do? What kind of selfish brute did she think he was? ‘I’m in no rush.’

‘I was going to browse the markets and shops...maybe get some lunch, before buying whatever groceries we needed before heading back.’

‘Sounds like an excellent plan.’

The faintest of frowns marred the perfect skin of her forehead. ‘It does?’

Something vulnerable passed across her features, but it was gone in a flash. From out of nowhere Rupert’s words came back to him: ‘She’s more selfless than the rest of us put together.’ The Russel family came from a privileged background, but they took the associated social responsibility of that position seriously. Each of them had highly honed social consciences. But it struck him then that Audra put her family’s needs before her own. Who put her needs first?

‘Audra, a lazy amble along the harbour, while feeling the sun on my face and breathing in the sea air, sounds pretty darn perfect to me.’

She smiled then—a real smile—and it kicked him in the gut because it was so beautiful. And because he realised he’d so very rarely seen her smile like that.

Why?

He took her arm and led her across the street, releasing her the moment they reached the other side. She still smelled of coconut and peaches, and it made him want to lick her.

Dangerous.

Not to mention totally inappropriate.

He tried to find his equilibrium again, and for once wished he could blame his sense of vertigo, the feeling of the ground shifting beneath his feet, on his recent injuries. Audra had always been able to needle him and then make him laugh, but he had no intention of letting her get under his skin. Not in that way. He’d been out of circulation too long, that was all. He’d be fine again once he’d regained his strength and put the accident behind him.

‘It’s always so cheerful down here,’ she said, pausing beside one of the flower-filled barrels, and dragging a deep breath into her lungs.

He glanced down at the flowers to avoid noticing the way her chest lifted, and touched his fingers to a bright pink petal. ‘These are...nice.’

‘I love petunias,’ she said. She touched a scarlet blossom. ‘And these geraniums and begonias look beautiful.’

He reached for a delicate spray of tiny white flowers at the same time that she did, and their fingers brushed against each other. It was the briefest of contacts, but it sent electricity charging up his arm and had him sucking in a breath. For one utterly unbalancing moment he thought she meant to repeat the gesture.

‘That’s alyssum,’ she said, pulling her hand away.

He moistened his lips. ‘I had no idea you liked gardening.’

She stared at him for a moment and he watched her snap back into herself like a rubber band that had been stretched and then released. But opposite to that because the stretching had seemed to relax her while the snapping back had her all tense again.

‘Don’t worry, Finn. I’m not going to make you garden while you’re here.’

Something sad and hungry, though, lurked in the backs of her eyes, and he didn’t understand it at all. He opened his mouth to ask her about it, but closed it again. He didn’t get involved with complicated emotions or sensitive issues. He avoided them like the plague. Get her to laugh, get her to loosen up. That was his remit. Nothing more. But that didn’t stop the memory of that sad and hungry expression from playing over and over in his mind.