‘The loukoumades?’
‘Definitely the loukoumades!’
She laughed. She hadn’t laughed, not with him, since he’d kissed her...and the loss of that earlier intimacy had been an ache in his soul.
The thought that he might be able to recapture their earlier ease made his heart beat faster.
‘What?’ she said, touching her face, and he realised he was staring.
He forced himself backwards in his seat. ‘You’re amazing, you know that?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Me?’
‘Absolutely. Can’t you see how well you’d fit in here, and what a difference you could make? You’ve connections, energy and vision...passion.’
She visibly swallowed at that last word, and he had to force his gaze from the line of her throat. He couldn’t let it linger there or he’d be lost.
Her face clouded over. ‘I can’t just walk away from the Russel Corporation.’
‘Why not?’ He paused and then nodded. ‘Okay, you can’t leave just like that.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘You’d have to hang around long enough to train up your replacement...or recruit a replacement.’
He could see her overdeveloped sense of duty begin to overshadow her excitement at the possibilities life held for her. He refused to let it win. ‘Can you imagine how much your mother would’ve enjoyed the festival you just described?’
Her eyes filled.
‘I remember how much she used to enjoy the local market days on Corfu, back when the family used to holiday there...when we were all children,’ he said. Karen Russel had been driven and focussed, but she’d relished her downtime too.
‘I know. I just...’ Audra glanced skywards and blinked hard. ‘I’d just want her to be proud of me.’
Something twisted in Finn’s chest. Karen had died at a crucial stage in Audra’s life—when Audra had been on the brink of adulthood. She’d been tentatively working her way towards a path that would give her life purpose and meaning, and searching for approval and support from the woman she’d looked up to. Her siblings had all had that encouragement and validation, but it’d been cruelly taken from Audra. No wonder she’d lost her way. ‘Princess, I can’t see how she could be anything else.’
Blue eyes, swimming with uncertainty and remembered grief, met his.
‘Audra, you’re kind and you work hard. You love your family and are there for them whenever they need you. She valued those things. And I think she’d thank you from the bottom of her heart for stepping into the breach when she was gone and doing all the things that needed doing.’
A single tear spilled onto her cheek, and he had to blink hard himself.
‘The thing is,’ he forced himself to continue, ‘nobody needs you to do those things any more. And I’d lay everything on the bet that your mother would have loved the shop you described to me. Look at the way she lived her life—with passion and with zeal. She’d want you to do the same.’
Audra swiped her fingers beneath her eyes and pulled in a giant breath. ‘Can...can we walk for a bit?’
They walked along the harbour and Audra hooked her arm through his. The accidental brushing of their bodies as they walked was a sweet torture that made him prickle and itch and want, but she’d done it without thinking or forethought—as if she needed to be somehow grounded while her mind galloped at a million miles an hour. So he left it there and didn’t pull away, and fought against the growing need that pounded through him.
She eventually released him to sit on the low harbour wall, and he immediately wanted to drag her hand back into the crook of his arm and press his hand over it to keep it there.
‘So,’ she started. ‘You’re saying it wouldn’t be selfish of me to move here and open my shop?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. I know you can’t see it, but you don’t have a selfish bone in your body.’
Sceptical eyes lifted to meet his. ‘You really don’t think I’d be letting my family down if I did that?’
‘Absolutely not. I think they’d be delighted for you.’ He fell down beside her. ‘But don’t take my word for it. Ask them.’
She pondered his words and then frowned. ‘Do you honestly think I could fit in and become a permanent part of the community here on Kyanós?’
He did, but... ‘Don’t you?’ Because at the end of the day it wasn’t about what he thought. It was what she thought and believed that mattered.
‘I want to believe it,’ she whispered, ‘because I want so badly for it to be true. I’m afraid that’s colouring my judgement.’