Miss Prim's Greek Island Fling

CHAPTER NINE

WHEN AUDRA REACHED in the fridge for the milk for her morning coffee and found yet another set of printouts—in a plastic sleeve, no less, that would presumably protect them from moisture and condensation—it was all she could do not to scream.

She and Finn had spent the last three days avoiding each other. She’d tried telling herself that suited her just fine, but...

It should suit her just fine. She had the beach to herself in the mornings, while Finn took the car and presumably headed into the village. And then he had the beach in the afternoons while she commandeered the car. In terms of avoiding each other, it worked perfectly. It was just...

She blew out a breath. She wished avoidance tactics weren’t necessary. She wished they could go back to laughing and having fun and teasing each other as they had before that stupid kiss.

And before she’d got all indignant about Rupert’s overprotectiveness, and galled that Finn had unquestioningly fallen into line with it...and angry with herself for not having challenged it earlier. Where once her brother’s protectiveness had made her feel cared for, now it left her feeling as if she was a family liability who needed safeguarding against her own foolishness.

Because of Thomas?

Or because if she could no longer hold tight to the label of being responsible and stable then...then what could she hold onto?

Stop it! Of course she was still responsible and stable. Thomas had been a mistake, and everyone was entitled to one mistake, right? Just as long as she didn’t compound that by doing something stupid with Finn; just as long as she maintained a sense of responsibility and calm and balance, and remembered who he was and remembered who she was.

Sloshing milk into her coffee, she went to throw the printouts in the bin when her gaze snagged on some subtle changes to the pictures. Curiosity warred with self-denial. Curiosity won. Grabbing a croissant—Finn always made sure there was a fresh supply—she slipped outside to the picnic table to pore over the designs of this achingly and heart-wrenchingly beautiful shop.

Letting her hair down and doing things she wanted to do just for the sake of it—for fun—hadn’t helped the burning in her soul whenever she was confronted with these pictures. They were snapshots of a life she could never have. And with each fresh reminder—and for some reason Finn seemed hell-bent on reminding her—that burn scorched itself into her deeper and deeper.

She bit into the croissant, she sipped coffee, but she tasted nothing.

Ever since Finn had kissed her she’d...wanted.

She’d wanted to kiss him again. She wanted more. She’d not known that a kiss could fill you with such a physical need. That it could make you crave so hard. She was twenty-seven years old. She’d thought she knew about attraction. She’d had good sex before. But that kiss had blown her preconceptions out of the stratosphere. And it had left her floundering. Because there was no way on God’s green earth that she and Finn could go there. She didn’t doubt that in the short term it’d be incredible, but ultimately it’d be destructive. She wasn’t going to be responsible for that kind of pain—for wounding friendships and devastating family ties and connections.

She couldn’t do that to Rupert.

She wouldn’t do that to Finn.

But the kiss had left her wanting more from life too. And she didn’t know how to make that restlessness and sense of dissatisfaction go away.

So she’d tried a different strategy in the hope it would help. Instead of reining in all her emotions and desires, she’d let a few of them loose. Finn was right: if there was ever a time to rebel it was now when she was on holiday. She’d hoped a mini-rebellion would help her deal with her attraction for Finn. She’d hoped it would help her deal with the dreary thought of returning home to her job.

She’d gone dancing. It’d been fun.

She’d taken an art class and had learned about form and perspective. Her drawing had been terrible, but moving a pencil across paper had soothed her. The focus of next week’s class was going to be composition. Her shoulders sagged. Except she wouldn’t be here next week.

She’d even gone jetskiing again. It’d felt great to be zipping across the water. But no sooner had she returned the jetski than her restlessness had returned.

She pressed her hands to her face and then pulled them back through her hair. She’d hoped those things would help ease the ache in her soul, but they hadn’t. They’d only fed it. It had been a mistake to come here.

And she wished to God Finn had never kissed her!

‘Morning, Audra.’

As if her thoughts had conjured him, Finn appeared. His wide grin and the loose easy way he settled on the seat opposite with a bowl of cereal balanced in one hand inflamed her, though she couldn’t have said why. She flicked the offending printouts towards him. ‘Why are you leaving these all over the house?’