AUDRA WHEELED AWAY from Finn and the barrel of flowers to survey the length of the village street, and tried to slow the racing of her pulse...to quell the temptation that swept through her like the breeze tugging at her hair. But the sound of the waves splashing against the seawall and the sparkles of light on the water as the sun danced off its surface only fed the yearning and the restlessness.
She couldn’t believe that the idea—the temptation—had even occurred to her. She and Finn? The idea was laughable.
For pity’s sake, she’d had one romantic disaster this year. Did she really want to follow that up with another?
Absolutely not.
She dragged a trembling hand across her eyes. She must be more shaken by Thomas and his betrayal than she’d realised. She needed to focus on herself and her family, and to make things right again. That was what this break here on Kyanós was all about—that and avoiding the media storm that had surrounded her in Geneva. The one thing she didn’t want to do was to make things worse.
The building at the end of the row of shops drew her gaze. Its white walls and blue shutters gleamed in the sun like the quintessential advertisement for a Greek holiday. The For Sale sign made her swallow. She resolutely dragged her gaze away, but the gaily coloured planter pots dotted along the thoroughfare caught her gaze again and that didn’t help either. But...
A sigh welled inside her. But if she ever owned a shop, she’d have a tub—or maybe two tubs—of flowers like these outside its door.
You’re never going to own a shop.
She made herself straighten. No, she was never going to own a shop. And the sooner she got over it, the better.
The lengthening silence between her and Finn grew more and more fraught.
See what happens when you don’t keep a lid on the nonsense? You become tempted to do ridiculous things.
Well, she could annihilate that in one fell swoop.
‘If I ever owned a shop, I’d want flowers outside its door too, just like these ones.’ And she waited for the raucous laughter to scald her dream with the scorn it deserved.
Rather than laughter a warm chuckle greeted her, a chuckle filled with...affection? ‘You used to talk about opening a shop when you were a little girl.’
And everyone had laughed at her—teased her for not wanting to be something more glamorous like an astronaut or ballerina.
Poor poppet, she mocked herself.
‘What did you want to be when you were little?’
‘A fireman...a knife-thrower at the circus...an explorer...and I went through a phase of wanting to be in a glam-rock band. It was the costumes,’ he added when she swung to stare at him. ‘I loved the costumes.’
She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I’m sure you’d look fetching in purple satin, platform boots and silver glitter.’
He snorted.
‘You know what the next challenge is going to be, don’t you? The very next fancy dress party you attend, you have to go as a glam rocker.’
‘You know there’ll be a counter challenge to that?’
‘There always is.’ And whatever it was, she wouldn’t mind honouring it. She’d pay good money to see Finn dressed up like that.
One corner of his mouth had hooked up in a cocky grin, his eyes danced with devilment, and his hair did that ‘slide across his forehead perilously close to his eyes’ thing and her stomach clenched. Hard. She forced her gaze away, reminded herself who he was. And what he was. ‘Well, it might not come with fancy costumes, but playboy adventurer captures the spirit of your childhood aspirations.’
He slanted a glance down at her, the laughter in his eyes turning dark and mocking, though she didn’t know if it was directed at her or himself. ‘Wow,’ he drawled. ‘Written off in one simple phrase. You’ve become a master of the backhanded compliment. Though some might call it character assassination.’
It was her turn to snort. ‘While you’ve perfected drama queen.’ But she found herself biting her lip as she stared unseeing at the nearby shop fronts as they walked along. Had she been too hard, too...dismissive just then? ‘I’m not discounting the fact that you make a lot of money for charity.’
The car races, the mountaineering expeditions, the base jumps were all for terribly worthy causes.
‘And yet she can’t hide her disapproval at my reckless and irresponsible lifestyle,’ he told the sky.
It wasn’t disapproval, but envy. Not that she had any intention of telling him so. All right, there was some disapproval too. She didn’t understand why he had to risk his neck for charity. There were other ways to fundraise, right? Risking his neck just seemed...stupid.
But whatever else Finn was, she’d never accuse him of being stupid.
She was also officially tired of this conversation. She halted outside the bookshop. ‘Our first stop.’
She waited for him to protest but all he did was gesture for her to precede him. ‘After you.’
With a big breath she entered, and crossed her fingers and hoped none of the shopkeepers or villagers would mention her recent troubles when they saw her today. She just wanted to forget all about that for a while.
They moved to different sections of the store—him to Non-Fiction, while she started towards Popular Fiction, stopping along the way to pore over the quaint merchandise that lined the front of the shop—cards and pens, bookmarks in every shape and size, some made from paper while others were made from bits of crocheted string with coloured beads dangling from their tails. A large selection of journals and notebooks greeted her too, followed by bookends and paperweights—everything a booklover could need. How she loved this stuff! On her way out she’d buy a gorgeous notebook. Oh, and bookmarks—one for each book she bought.
She lost herself to browsing the row upon row of books then; most were in Greek but some were in English too. She didn’t know for how long she scanned titles, admired covers and read back-cover blurbs, but she slowly became aware of Finn watching her from where he sat on one of the low stools that were placed intermittently about the shop for customers’ convenience. She surprised a look of affection on his face, and it made her feel bad for sniping at him earlier and dismissing him as a playboy adventurer.
He grinned. ‘You look like you’re having fun.’
‘I am.’ This slow browsing, the measured contemplation of the delights offered up on these shelves—the sheer unrushedness of it all—filled something inside her. She glanced at his hands, his lap, the floor at his feet. ‘You don’t have a book yet.’
He nodded at the stack she held. ‘Are you getting all of those?’
‘I’m getting the French cookbook.’ She’d need a recipe for croissants. ‘And three of these.’
He took the cookbook from her, and then she handed him two women’s fiction titles and a cosy mystery, before putting the others back where they belonged.
‘What would you choose for me?’ His lip curled as he reached forward to flick a disparaging finger at a blockbuster novel from a big-name writer. ‘Something like that?’
‘That’s a historical saga with lots of period detail. I’d have not thought it was your cup of tea at all.’ She suspected the pace would be a bit slow for his taste. ‘The object of the exercise isn’t to make you suffer.’
Amber eyes darker than the whisky he liked but just as intoxicating swung to her and she saw the surprise in their depths. She recalled the affection she’d surprised in his face a moment ago and swallowed. Had she become a complete and utter shrew somewhere over the last year or two? ‘I know that our modus operandi is to tease each other and...and to try to best each other—all in fun, of course.’
He inclined his head. ‘Of course.’
‘But I want to show you that quieter pursuits can be pleasurable too. If I were choosing a book for you I’d get you—’ she strode along to the humour section ‘—this.’ She pulled out a book by a popular comedian that she knew he liked.
He blinked and took it.
She set off down the next row of shelves. ‘And to be on the safe side I’d get you this as well...or this.’ She pulled out two recent non-fiction releases. One a biography of a well-known sportsman, and the other on World War Two.
He nodded towards the second one and she added it to the growing pile of books in his arms.
She started back the way they’d come. ‘If I were on my own I’d get you this one as a joke.’ She held up a self-help book with the title Twelve Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos.
‘Put it back.’
The laughter in his voice added a spring to her step. She slotted it back into place. ‘I’d get you a wildcard too.’
‘A wildcard?’
‘A book on spec—something you might not like, but could prove to be something you’d love.’
He pursed his lips for a moment and then nodded. ‘I want a wildcard.’
Excellent. But what? She thought back over what he’d said earlier—about wanting to be a fireman, a knife-thrower, an explorer. She returned to the fiction shelves. She’d bet her house on the fact he’d love tales featuring heroic underdogs. She pulled a novel from the shelf—the first book in a fantasy trilogy from an acclaimed writer.
‘That’s...that’s a doorstop!’
‘Yes or no?’
He blew out a breath. ‘What the hell, add it to the pile.’
She did, and then retrieved her own books from his arms. ‘I’m not letting you buy my books.’
‘Why not?’
‘I like to buy my own books. And I’ve thrust three books onto you that you may never open.’
He stretched his neck, first one way and then the other. ‘Can I buy you lunch?’
‘As a thank you for being your bookstore personal shopper? Absolutely. But let’s make it a late lunch. I’m still full from breakfast.’
She stopped to select her bookmarks, and added two notebooks to her purchases. Finn chose a bookmark of his own, and then seized a satchel in butter-soft black leather. ‘Perfect.’
Perfect for what? She glanced at the selection of leather satchels and calico book bags and bit her lip. Maybe—
With a laugh, Finn propelled her towards the counter. ‘Save them for your next visit.’
They paid and while Audra exchanged greetings with Sibyl, the bookshop proprietor, he put all their purchases into the satchel and slung it over his shoulder. ‘Where to next?’
She stared at that bag. It’d make his shoulder ache if he wasn’t careful. But then she realised it was on his right shoulder, not his left, and let out a breath. ‘Wherever the mood takes us,’ she said as they moved towards the door.
She paused to read the community announcement board and an advertisement for art classes jumped out at her. Oh, that’d be fun and...
She shook her head. R & R was all very well, but she had to keep herself contained to the beach and her books. Anything else... Well, anything else was just too hard. And she was too tired.
Finn trailed a finger across the flyer. ‘Interested?’
She shook her head and led him outside.
He frowned at her. ‘But—’
‘Ooh, these look like fun.’ She shot across to the boutique next door and was grateful when he let himself be distracted.
They flicked through a rack of discounted clothing that stood in blatant invitation out the front. Finn bought a pair of swimming trunks, so she added a sarong to her growing list of purchases. They browsed the markets. Finn bought a pair of silver cufflinks in the shape of fat little aeroplanes. ‘My uncle will love these.’ He pointed to an oddly shaped silver pendant on a string of black leather. ‘That’d look great on you.’ So she bought that too. They helped each other choose sunhats.
It felt decadent to be spending like this, not that any of her purchases were particularly pricey. But she so rarely let herself off the leash that she blithely ignored the voice of puritan sternness that tried to reel her in. What was more, it gave her the chance to exchange proper greetings with the villagers she’d known for years now.
Her worries she’d be grilled about Thomas and her reputed broken heart and the upcoming court case dissolved within ten minutes. As always, the people of Kyanós embraced her as if she were one of their own. And she loved them for it. The Russel family had been coming for holidays here for nearly ten years now. Kyanós felt like a home away from home.
‘Hungry yet?’
‘Famished!’ She glanced at her watch and did a double take when she saw it was nearly two o’clock. ‘We haven’t done the bakery, the butcher, the delicatessen or the wine merchant yet.’
‘We have time.’
She lifted her face to the sun and closed her eyes to relish it even more. ‘We do.’
They chose a restaurant that had a terrace overlooking the harbour and ordered a shared platter of warm olives, cured meats and local cheeses accompanied with bread warm from the oven and a cold crisp carafe of retsina. While they ate they browsed their book purchases.
Audra surreptitiously watched Finn as he sampled the opening page of the fantasy novel...and then the next page...and the one after that.
He glanced up and caught her staring. He hesitated and then shrugged. ‘You know, this might be halfway decent.’
She refrained from saying I told you so. ‘Good.’
‘If I hadn’t seen you choose me those first two books I’d have not given this one a chance. I’d have written it off as a joke like the self-help book. And as I suspect I’ll enjoy both these other books...’
If he stayed still long enough to read them.
He frowned.
She folded her arms. ‘Why does that make you frown?’
‘I’m wishing I’d known about this book when I was laid up in hospital with nothing to do.’
The shadows in his eyes told her how stir-crazy he’d gone. ‘What did you do to pass the time?’
‘Crosswords. And I watched lots of movies.’
‘And chafed.’
‘Pretty much.’
‘I almost sent you a book, but I thought...’
‘You thought I’d misinterpret the gesture? Think you were rubbing salt into the wound?’
Something like that.
He smiled. ‘I appreciated the puzzle books.’ And then he scowled. ‘I didn’t appreciate the grapes, though. Grapes are for invalids.’
She stiffened. ‘It was supposed to be an entire basket of fruit!’ Not just grapes.
‘Whatever. I’d have preferred a bottle of tequila. I gave the fruit to the nurses.’
But his eyes danced as he feigned indignation and it was hard to contain a grin. ‘I’ll keep that in mind for next time.’
He gave a visible shudder and she grimaced in sympathy. ‘Don’t have a next time.’ She raised her glass. ‘To no more accidents and a full and speedy recovery.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
He lifted his glass to hers and then sipped it with an abandoned enjoyment she envied. ‘Who knew you’d be such fun to shop with?’
The words shot out of her impulsively, and she found herself speared on the end of a keen-edged glance. ‘You thought I’d chafe?’
‘A bit,’ she conceded. ‘I mean, Rupert and Justin will put up with it when Cora or I want to window-shop, but they don’t enjoy it.’
‘I wouldn’t want to do it every day.’
Neither would she.
‘But today has been fun.’ He stared at her for a beat too long. ‘It was a revelation watching you in the bookstore.’
She swallowed. Revelation, how?
‘It’s been a long time since I saw you enjoy yourself so much, Squirt, and—’ He shot back in his seat. ‘Audra! I meant to say Audra. Don’t make that Strike Two. I...’
He gazed at her helplessly and she forgave him instantly. He hadn’t said it to needle her the way he had with his earlier Squirt. She shook herself. ‘Sorry, what were you saying? I was miles away.’
He smiled his thanks, but then leaned across the table towards her, and that smile and his closeness made her breath catch. ‘You should do things you enjoy more often, Miss Conscientiousness.’
Hmm, she’d preferred Squirt.
‘There’s more to life than boardrooms and spreadsheets.’
‘That’s what holidays are for,’ she agreed. The boardrooms and spreadsheets would be waiting for her at the end of it, though, and the thought made her feel tired to the soles of her feet.