‘You’ll be the only who feels that way.’
The certainty in his tone had her swinging to him.
He lifted his hands to his head, before dropping them back to his sides. ‘Audra, they’re all doing work they love!’
‘Good!’ She stared at his fists and then into his face. He was getting really het-up about this. ‘I want them to love what they do.’
‘Then why don’t you extend yourself that same courtesy?’
He bellowed the words, and her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. He made it sound so easy. But it wasn’t! She loved being there for her brothers and sister. She loved that she could help them.
‘How would you feel if you discovered Rupert or Cora or Justin were doing their jobs just to keep you feeling comfortable and emotionally secure?’
Oh, that’d be awful! It’d—
She took a step away from him, swallowed. Her every muscle scrunched up tight. That scenario, it wasn’t synonymous with hers.
Why not?
She pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool them. Her siblings were each brilliant in their own way—fiercely intelligent, politically savvy and driven. She wasn’t. Her dreams were so ordinary in comparison, so lacking in ambition. A part of her had always been afraid that her family would think she wasn’t measuring up to her potential.
Her heart started to pound. Had she been using her role in the family corporation as an excuse to hide behind? Stretching her own wings required taking risks, and those risks frightened her.
‘I hate to say this, Princess, but when you get right down to brass tacks you’re just a glorified administrator, a pen-pusher, and anyone can do the job that you do.’
* * *
‘Why don’t you tell me what you really think, Finn?’
The stricken expression in Audra’s eyes pierced straight through the centre of him. He didn’t want to hurt her. But telling her what he really thought was wiser than doing what he really wanted to do, which was kiss her.
He had to remind himself again of all the reasons kissing her was a bad idea.
He pulled in a breath. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to see her happy. He wanted to see her happy the way she’d been happy when describing her shop...when she’d been learning to ride a jetski...and when she’d been dancing. Did she truly think those things were frivolous and self-indulgent?
He tapped a fist against his lips as he stared out at the glorious view spread in front of them. The morning sun tinged everything gold, not so much as a breeze ruffled the air and it made the water look otherworldly still, and soft, like silk and mercury.
He pulled his hand back to his side. Right. ‘It’s my day.’
From the corner of his eye he saw her turn towards him. ‘Pardon?’
‘To choose our activities. It’s my day.’
She folded her arms and stuck out a hip. She was going to tell him to go to blazes—that she was spending the day on her own. She opened her mouth, but he rushed on before she could speak. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’
She snapped her mouth shut, but her gaze slid over him as if it couldn’t help it, and the way she swallowed and spun seawards again, her lips parted as if to draw much-needed air into her lungs, had his skin drawing tight. She was right. It’d be much wiser to continue to avoid each other.
But...
But he might never get this opportunity again. He wanted to prove to her that she had a right to be happy, to urge her to take that chance.
‘The yacht with the pink and blue sail is back.’
She pointed but he didn’t bother looking. ‘Please,’ he said quietly.
She met his gaze, her eyes searching his, before she blew out a breath and shrugged. ‘Okay. Fine.’
‘Dress code is casual and comfortable. We’re not hiking for miles or doing anything gruelling. I just... I’ve been exploring and I think I’ve found some things that will interest you.’
‘Sunhat and sandals...?’
‘Perfect. How soon can you be ready?’
One slim shoulder lifted. ‘Half an hour.’
‘Excellent.’ He gathered up his breakfast things and headed back towards the house before he did something stupid like kiss her.
* * *
Their first port of call was Angelo’s workshop. Angelo was a carpenter who lived on the far side of the village. He made and sold furniture from his renovated garage. Most of the pieces he made were too large for Audra’s hypothetical shop—chest of drawers, tables and chairs, bedheads and bookcases—but there were some smaller items Finn knew she’d like, like the pretty trinket boxes and old-fashioned writing desks that were designed to sit on one’s lap.