AUDRA GLANCED ACROSS at Finn, who looked utterly content lying on his towel on the sand of this ridiculously beautiful curve of beach, reading his book. It seemed ironic, then, that she couldn’t lose herself in her own book.
She blamed it on the half-remembered dreams that’d given her a restless night. Scraps had been playing through her mind all morning—sexy times moving to the surreal and the scary; Finn’s and Thomas’s faces merging and then separating—leaving her feeling restless and strung tight.
One of those sexy-time moments played through her mind again now and she bit her lip against the warmth that wanted to spread through her. The fact that this beach was so ridiculously private didn’t help. She didn’t want the words private and Finn—or sexy times—to appear in the same thought with such tempting symmetry. It was crazy. She’d always done her best to not look at Finn in that way. And she had no intention of letting her guard down now.
This whole preoccupation was just a...a way for her subconscious to avoid focussing on what needed to be dealt with. Which was to regather her resources and refocus her determination to be of service at the Russel Corporation, to be a valuable team member rather than a liability.
‘What was that sigh for?’
She blinked to find Finn’s beautiful brown eyes surveying her. And they were beautiful—the colour of cinnamon and golden syrup and ginger beer, and fringed with long dark lashes. She didn’t know how lashes could look decadent and sinful, but Finn’s did.
‘You’re supposed to be relaxing—enjoying the sun and the sea...your book.’
‘I am.’
‘Liar.’
He rolled to his side to face her more fully, and she shrugged. ‘I had a restless night.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘That’s all.’
‘When one works as hard as you do, it can be difficult to switch off.’
‘Old habits,’ she murmured, reaching for her T-shirt and pulling it over her head and then tying her sarong about her waist, feeling ridiculously naked in her modest one-piece.
Which was crazy because she and Finn and the rest of her family had been on this beach countless times together, and in briefer swimsuits than what either of them were wearing now. ‘I don’t want to get too much sun all at once,’ she said by way of explanation, although Finn hadn’t indicated by so much as a blink of his gorgeous eyelashes that he’d wanted or needed one. She glanced at him. ‘You’ve been incapacitated for a couple of months and yet I’m paler than you.’
‘Yeah, but my incapacitation meant spending a lot of time on the rooftop terrace of my apartment on the French Riviera, so...not exactly doing it tough.’
Fair point.
‘You ever tried meditation?’
‘You’re talking to me, Audra, remember?’
His slow grin raised all the tiny hairs on her arms. ‘Lie on your back in a comfortable position and close your eyes.’
‘Finn...’ She could barely keep the whine out of her voice. ‘Meditation makes me feel like a failure.’ And there was more than enough of that in her life at the moment as it was, thank you very much. ‘I know you’re supposed to clear your mind, but...it’s impossible!’
‘Would you be so critical and hard on someone else? Cut yourself some slack.’ He rolled onto his back. ‘Work on quietening your mind rather than clearing it. When a thought appears, as it will, simply acknowledge it before focussing on your breathing again.’
He closed his eyes and waited. With another sigh, Audra rolled onto her back and settled her hat over her face. It was spring and the sun wasn’t fierce, but she wasn’t taking any chances. ‘Okay,’ she grumbled. ‘I’m ready. What am I supposed to do?’
Finn led her through a guided meditation where she counted breaths, where she tensed and then relaxed different muscle groups. The deep timbre of his voice, unhurried and undemanding, soothed her in a way she’d have never guessed possible. Her mind wandered, as he’d said it would, but she brought her attention back to his voice and her breathing each time, and by the time he finished she felt weightless and light.
She heard no movement from him, so she stayed exactly where she was—on a cloud of euphoric relaxation.
And promptly fell asleep.
Finn didn’t move until Audra’s deep rhythmic breaths informed him that she was asleep. Not a light and sweet little nap, but fully and deeply asleep.
He rolled onto his tummy and rested his chin on his arms. When had she forgotten how to relax? He’d spent a large portion of every Christmas vacation from the age of twelve onwards with the Russel family.
She’d been a sweet, sparky little kid, fiercely determined to keep up with her older siblings and not be left behind. As a teenager she’d been curious, engaged...and a bit more of a dreamer than the others, not as driven in a particular direction as they’d been either. But then he’d figured that’d made her more of an all-rounder.
When had she lost her zest, her joy for life? During her final years of school? At university? He swallowed. When her mother had died?
Karen Russel had died suddenly of a cerebral aneurysm ten years ago. It’d shattered the entire family. Audra had only been seventeen.
Was it then that Audra had exchanged her joy in life for...? For what? To become a workaholic managing the charitable arm of her family’s corporation? In her grief, had she turned away from the things that had given her joy? Had it become a habit?
He recalled the odd defiance in her eyes when she’d spoken about owning a shop—the way she’d mocked the idea...and the way the mockery and defiance had been at odds. He turned to stare at her. ‘Hell, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘What are you doing to yourself?’
She slept for an hour, and Finn was careful to pretend not to notice when she woke, even though his every sense was honed to her every movement. He kept his nose buried in his book and feigned oblivion, which wasn’t that hard because the book was pretty gripping.
‘Hey,’ she said in sleepy greeting.
‘Hey, yourself, you lazy slob.’ Only then did he allow himself to turn towards her. ‘I didn’t know napping was included on the agenda today.’
‘If I remember correctly, the order for the day was lazing about in the sun on the beach, reading books and a bit of swimming.’ She flicked out a finger. ‘My nap included lying on the beach and—’ she flicked out a second finger ‘—lazing in the sun. So I’m following the remit to the letter, thank you very much.’
The rest had brightened her eyes. And when she stretched her arms back over her head, he noted that her shoulders had lost their hard edge. He noted other things—things that would have Rupert taking a swing at him if he knew—so he did his best to remove those from his mind.
In one fluid motion, she rose. ‘I’m going in for a dip.’
That sounded like an excellent plan. He definitely needed to cool off. Her glance flicked to the scar of his splenectomy when he rose too, and it took an effort to not turn away and hide it from her gaze.
And then she untied her sarong and pulled her T-shirt over her head and it was all he could do to think straight at all.
She nodded at the scar. ‘Does it still hurt?’
He touched the indentations and shook his head. ‘It didn’t really hurt much after it was done either.’ At her raised eyebrows he winked. ‘Wish I could say the same about the broken ribs.’
She huffed out a laugh, and he was grateful when she moved towards the water’s edge without asking any further questions about his accident. Its aftershocks continued to reverberate through him, leaving him at a loss. He didn’t know how much longer he’d have to put up with it. He didn’t know how much longer he could put up with it.
The cold dread that had invaded the pit of his stomach in the moments after his fall invaded him again now, and he broke out in an icy sweat. He’d known in that moment—his skis flying one way and the rest of him going another—that he’d hurt himself badly. He’d understood in a way he never had before that he could die; he had realised he might not make it off the mountain alive.
And every instinct he’d had had screamed a protest against that fate. He hadn’t wanted to die, not yet. There were things he wanted—yearned—to do. If he’d had breath to spare he’d have begged the medical team to save him. But there’d been no breath to spare, and he’d started spiralling in and out of consciousness.
When he’d awoken from surgery...the relief and gratitude...there were no words to describe it. But for the life of him, now that he was all but recovered, he couldn’t remember the things he’d so yearned to do—the reasons why staying alive had seemed so urgent.
All of it had left him with an utter lack of enthusiasm for any of the previous high-octane sports that had once sung to his soul. Had he lost his nerve? He didn’t think so. He didn’t feel afraid. He just—
A jet of water hit him full in the face and shook him immediately out of his thoughts. ‘Lighten up, Finn. I’d have not mentioned the scar if I’d known it’d make you so grim. Don’t worry. I’m sure the girls will still fall at your feet with the same old regularity. The odd scar will probably add to your mystique.’
She thought he was brooding for reasons of...vanity?
She laughed outright at whatever she saw in his face. ‘You’re going to pay for that,’ he promised, scooping water up in his hands.
They were both soaked at the end of their water fight. Audra simply laughed and called him a bully when he picked her up and threw her into the sea.
He let go of her quick smart, though, because she was an armful of delicious woman...and he couldn’t go there. Not with her. ‘Race you out to the buoy.’
‘Not a chance.’ She caressed the surface of the water with an unconscious sensuality that had his gut clenching. ‘I’m feeling too Zen after that meditation. And, if you’ll kindly remember, there’s no racing on today’s agenda, thank you very much.’
‘Wait until tomorrow.’
She stuck her nose in the air. ‘Please don’t disturb me while I’m living in the moment.’
With a laugh, he turned and swam out to the buoy. He didn’t rush, but simply relished the way his body slid through the water, relished how good it felt to be rid of the cast. He did five laps there and back before his left arm started up a dull ache...and before he could resist finding out what Audra was up to.
He glanced across at where she floated on her back, her face lifted to the sky. He couldn’t tell from here whether she had her eyes open or closed. She looked relaxed—now. And while now she might also be all grown up, during their water fight she’d laughed and squealed as she had when a girl.
He had a feeling, though, that when her short holiday was over all that tension would descend on her again, pulling her tight. Because...?
Because she wasn’t doing the things that gave her joy, wasn’t living the life that she should be living. And he had a growing conviction that this wasn’t a new development, but an old one he’d never picked up on before. He had no idea how to broach the topic either. She could be undeniably prickly, and she valued her privacy. Just like you do. She’d tell him to take a flying leap and mind his own business. And that’d be that.
Walk away. He didn’t do encouraging confidences. He didn’t do complicated. And it didn’t matter which way he looked at it—Audra had always been complicated. Fun and laughter, those were his forte.
He glided through the water towards her until he was just a couple of feet away. ‘Boo.’
He didn’t shout the word, just said it in a normal tone, but she started so violently he immediately felt sick to his gut. She spun around, the colour leaching from her face, and he wanted to kick himself—hard. ‘Damn, Audra, I didn’t mean to scare the living daylights out of you.’
She never used to startle this easily. What the hell had happened to change that?
None of the scenarios that played in his mind gave him the slightest bit of comfort.
‘Glad I didn’t grab you round the waist to tug you under, which had been my first thought.’ He said it to try to lighten the moment. When they were kids they all used to dunk each other mercilessly.
If possible she went even paler. And then she ducked under the water, resurfacing a moment later to slick her hair back from her face. ‘Note to self,’ she said with remarkable self-possession, though he noted the way her hands shook. ‘Don’t practise meditation in the sea when Finn is around.’
He wanted to apologise again, but it’d be making too big a deal out of it and he instinctively knew that would make her defensive.
‘I might head in.’ She started a lazy breaststroke back towards the shore. ‘How many laps did you do?’
‘Just a couple.’ Had she been watching him?
‘How does the arm feel?’
He bit back a snap response. It’s fine. And can we just forget about my accident already? She didn’t deserve that. She had to know he didn’t like talking about his injuries, but if this was the punishment she’d chosen for his ill-timed Boo then he’d take it like a man. ‘Dishearteningly weak.’
Her gaze softened. ‘You’ll get your fitness back, Finn. Just don’t push it too hard in these early days.’
He’d had every intention of getting to Kyanós and then swimming and running every day without mercy until he’d proven to himself that he was as fit as he’d been prior to his accident. And yet he found himself more than content at the moment to keep pace beside her. He rolled his shoulders. He’d only been here a couple of days. That old fire would return to his belly soon enough.
He pounced on the cooler bag as soon as he’d towelled off. ‘I’m famished.’
He tossed her a peach, which she juggled, nearly dropped and finally caught. He grinned and bit into a second peach. The fragrant flesh and sweet juice hitting the back of his throat tasted better than anything he’d eaten in the last eight weeks. He groaned his pleasure, closing his eyes to savour it all the more. When he opened his eyes again, he found her staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.
Hell, no! Don’t look at me like that, Audra.
Like a woman who looked at a man and considered his...um...finer points. It made his skin go hot and tight. It made him want to reach out, slide a hand behind the back of her head and pull her close and—
He glanced out to sea, his pulse racing. He wanted to put colour back into her cheeks, but not like that. The two of them were like oil and water. If he did something stupid now, it’d impact on his relationship with her entire family, and the Russels and his uncle Ned were the only family he had.
He dragged in a gulp of air. Given his current state of mind, he had to be hyper-vigilant that he didn’t mess all this up. He had a history of bringing trouble to the doors of those he cared about—Rupert all those years ago, and now Joachim. Rupert was right—Audra had been through enough. He had no intention of bringing more trouble down on her head.
He forced his stance to remain relaxed. ‘Wanna go for a run?’
‘A run?’ She snapped away and then stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Which was better. Much much better. ‘Do you not know me at all?’
He shrugged. ‘It was worth a shot.’
‘No running, no rushing, no racing.’ She ticked the items off her fingers. ‘Those are the rules for today. I’m going to explore the rock pools.’
He followed because he couldn’t help it. Because a question burned through him and he knew he’d explode if he didn’t ask it.
They explored in silence for ten or fifteen minutes. ‘Audra?’ He worked hard to keep his voice casual.
‘Hmm?’
‘What the hell did that bastard Farquhar do to you?’
She froze, and then very slowly turned. ‘Wow, excellent tactic, Sullivan. Don’t get your way over going for a run so hit a girl with an awkward question instead.’
A question he noted she hadn’t answered. He rolled with it. ‘I work with what I’ve got.’
Her hands went to her waist. She wore her T-shirt again but not her sarong, and her legs... Her legs went on and on...and on. Where had she been hiding them? ‘Who’s this woman in Nice you’re trying to avoid?’
Oho! So Rupert had told her about that. ‘You answer my question, and I’ll answer any question you want.’
Her brows rose. ‘Any question?’
‘Any time you want to ask it.’