‘And yet that doesn’t hide the fact that you don’t want to talk about it.’ Whatever it was. She shrugged and drained the rest of her beer too. ‘That’s okay, you can simply fob me off with an “I just haven’t met the right girl yet” and be done with it.’
‘But that would be lying, and lying is against the rules.’
‘Ah, so you have met the right girl?’ Was it Trixie who’d texted him?
He wagged a finger at her, and just for a moment his eyes danced, shifting the darkness her question had triggered. ‘That’s an altogether different question. If you’d rather I answer that one...?’
It made her laugh. ‘I’ll stick with my original question, thank you very much.’
The waiter brought their drinks and Finn took the straw from his glass and set it on the table. His eyes turned sombre again. ‘You know the circumstances surrounding my father’s death?’
‘He died in a caving accident when you were eight.’
‘He liked extreme sports. He was an adrenaline junkie. I seem to have inherited that trait.’
She frowned and sat back.
His eyes narrowed. ‘What?’
She took a sip of her drink, wondering at his sharp tone. ‘Can one inherit risk-taking the same way they can brown eyes and tawny hair?’
‘Intelligence is inherited, isn’t it? And a bad temper and... Why?’
He glared and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. ‘Just wondering,’ she murmured.
‘No, you weren’t.’
Fine. She huffed out a breath. ‘I always thought your adventuring was a way of keeping your father’s memory alive, a way to pay homage to him.’
He blinked.
She tried to gauge the impact her words had on him. ‘There isn’t any judgement attached to that statement, Finn. I’m not suggesting it’s either good or bad.’
He shook himself, but she noted the belligerent thrust to his jaw. ‘Does it matter whether my risk-taking is inherited or not?’
‘Of course it does. If it’s some gene you inherently possess then that means it’s always going to be a part of you, a...a natural urge like eating and sleeping. If it’s the latter then one day you can simply decide you’ve paid enough homage. One means you can’t change, the other means you can.’
He shoved his chair back, physically moving further away from her, his eyes flashing. She raised her hands. ‘But that’s not for me to decide. Your call. Like I said, no judgement here. It was just, umm...idle speculation.’ She tried not to wince as she said it.
The space between them pulsed with Finn’s...outrage? Shock? Disorientation? Audra wasn’t sure, but she wanted to get them back on an even keel again. ‘What does this have to do with avoiding romantic commitment?’
He gave a low laugh and stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘You warned me this could be dangerous.’
It had certainly sent a sick wave of adrenaline coursing through her. ‘We don’t have to continue with this conversation if you don’t want to.’
He skewered her with a glance. ‘You don’t want to know?’
She ran a finger through the condensation on her glass. He was being honest with her. He deserved the same in return. ‘I want to know.’
‘Then the rules demand that you get your answer.’
Was he laughing at her?
He grew serious again. ‘My father’s death was very difficult for my mother.’
Jeremy Sullivan had been an Australian sportsman who for a brief moment had held the world record for the men’s four-hundred-metre butterfly. Claudette Dupont, Finn’s mother, had been working at the French embassy in Canberra. They’d met, fallen in love and had moved to Europe where Jeremy had pursued a life of adventure and daring. Both of Finn’s grandfathers came from old money. They, along with the lucrative sponsorship deals Jeremy received, had funded his and Claudette’s lifestyle.
And from the outside it had been an enviable lifestyle—jetting around the world from one extreme sporting event to another—Jeremy taking part in whatever event was on offer while Claudette cheered him from the sidelines. And there’d apparently been everything from cliff diving to ice climbing, bobsledding to waterfall kayaking, and more.
But it had ended in tragedy with the caving accident that had claimed Jeremy’s life. Audra dragged in a breath. ‘She was too young to be a widow.’ And Finn had been too young to be left fatherless.
‘She gave up everything to follow him on his adventures—her job, a stable network of friends...a home. She was an only child and there weren’t many close relatives apart from her parents.’