Michelle Douglas - Miss Prim's Greek Island Fling

She swung back. ‘Despite what you say, I’m not a scaredy-cat.’

‘And despite what you think, I’m not hyperactive.’

* * *

Finn held his breath as he watched Audra weigh up his suggestion. She was actually considering it. Which was surprising. He’d expected her to tell him to take a flying leap and stalk off to read her book.

But she was actually considering his suggestion and he didn’t know why. He thought he’d need to tease and rile her more, bring her latent competitive streak to the fore, where she’d accept his challenge simply to save face. Still, he had tossed out the bait of her proving that her way was better than his. Women were always trying to change him. Maybe Audra found that idea attractive too?

In the next moment he shook his head. That’d only be the case if she were interested in him as a romantic prospect. And she’d made it clear that wasn’t the case.

Thank God.

He eyed that tight little bun and swallowed.

‘I’ll agree to your challenge...’

He tried to hide his surprise. She would? He hadn’t even needed to press her.

‘On two conditions.’

Ha! He knew it couldn’t be that easy. ‘Which are?’

‘I get to go first.’

He made a low sweeping bow. ‘Of course—ladies first, that always went without saying.’ It was a minor concession and, given how much he still hurt, one he didn’t mind making. They could pick up the pace tomorrow.

‘And the challenge doesn’t start until tomorrow.’

He opened his mouth to protest, but she forged on. ‘We need to go shopping. There’s hardly any food in the place. And I’m not wasting my choice of activities on practicalities like grocery shopping, thank you very much.’

‘We could get groceries delivered.’

‘But it’d be nice to check out the produce at the local market. Rupert likes to support the local businesses.’

And while she was here she’d consider herself Rupert’s representative. And it was true—what she did here would reflect on her brother. The Russels had become a bit of a fixture in Kyanós life over the last few years.

‘I also want to have a deliciously long browse in the bookstore. And you’ll need to select a book too, you know?’

Oh, joy of joys. He was going to make her run two miles for that.

‘And...’ she shrugged ‘...consider it a fact-finding mission—we can research what the island has to offer and put an itinerary together.’

Was she really going to let him choose half of her holiday activities for the next week or two? Excellent. By the time he was through with her, she’d have colour in her cheeks, skin on her bones—not to mention some muscle tone and a spring in her step. ‘You’ve got yourself a deal...on one condition.’

Her eyebrows lifted.

‘That you lose the bun.’ He couldn’t think straight around that bun. Whenever he glanced at it, he was seized by an unholy impulse to release it. It distracted him beyond anything.

Without another word, she reached up to pull the pins from her bun, and a soft cloud of fair hair fell down around her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed and she thrust out her chin. ‘Better?’

It took an effort of will to keep a frown from his face. A tight band clamped around his chest.

‘Is it beachy enough for you?’

‘A hundred per cent better,’ he managed, fighting the urge to reach out and touch a strand, just to see if it was as silky and soft as it looked.

She smirked and pulled it back into a ponytail. ‘There, the bun is gone.’

But the ponytail didn’t ease the tightness growing in his chest, not to mention other places either. It bounced with a perky insolence that had him aching to reach out and give it a gentle tug. For pity’s sake, it was just hair!

She stilled, and then her hands went to her hips. ‘Are you feeling okay, Finn?’

He shook himself. ‘Of course I am. Why?’

‘You gave in to my conditions without a fight. That’s not like you. Normally you’d bicker with me and angle for more.’

Damn! He had to remember how quick she was, and keep his wits about him.

‘If you want a few more days before embarking on our challenge, that’s fine with me. I mean, you only just got the cast off your arm.’

He clenched his jaw so hard it started to ache.

‘I understand you beat yourself up pretty bad on that mountain.’

She paused as if waiting for him to confirm that, but he had no intention of talking about his accident.

She shrugged. ‘And you looked pretty rough last night so...’

‘So...what?’

‘So if you needed a couple of days to regroup...’

Anger directed solely at himself pooled in his stomach. ‘The accident was two month ago, Squirt .’ He called her Squirt deliberately, to set her teeth on edge. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’

She shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’ But she didn’t look convinced. ‘I’m leaving for the village in half an hour if you want to come along. But if you want to stay here and do push-ups and run ten miles on the beach then I’m more than happy to select a book for you.’

‘Not a chance.’ He shuddered to think what she would make him read as a penance. ‘I’ll be ready in twenty.’

‘Suit yourself.’ She moved towards the foyer and the stairs. And the whole time her ponytail swayed in jaunty mockery. She turned when she reached the foyer’s archway. ‘Finn?’

He hoped to God she hadn’t caught him staring. ‘What?’

‘The name’s Audra, not Squirt. That was the deal. Three strikes and you’re out. That’s Strike One.’

She’d kick him out if he... He stared after her and found himself grinning. She wasn’t going to let him push her around and he admired her for it.

* * *

‘I’ll drive,’ Finn said, thirty minutes later.

‘I have the car keys,’ Audra countered, sliding into the driver’s seat of the hybrid Rupert kept on the island for running back and forth to the village.

To be perfectly honest, he didn’t care who drove. He just didn’t want Audra to think him frail or in need of babying. Besides, it was only ten minutes into the village.

One advantage of being passenger, though, was the unencumbered opportunity to admire the views, and out here on the peninsula the views were spectacular. Olive trees interspersed with the odd cypress and ironwood tree ranged down the slopes, along with small scrubby shrubs bursting with flowers—some white and some pink. And beyond it all was the unbelievable, almost magical blue of the Aegean Sea. The air from the open windows was warm and dry, fragrant with salt and rosemary, and something inside him started to unhitch. He rested his head back and breathed it all in.

‘Glorious, isn’t it?’

He glanced across at her profile. She didn’t drive as if she needed to be anywhere in a hurry. Her fingers held the steering wheel in a loose, relaxed grip, and the skin around her eyes and mouth was smooth and unblemished. The last time he’d seen her she’d been in a rush, her knuckles white around her briefcase and her eyes narrowed—no doubt her mind focussed on the million things on her to-do list.

She glanced across. ‘What?’

‘I was just thinking how island life suits you.’

Her brows shot up, and she fixed her attention on the road in front again, her lips twitching. ‘Wow, you must really hate my bun.’

No, he loved that bun.

Not that he had any intention of telling her that.

She flicked him with another of her cool glances. ‘Do you know anyone that this island life wouldn’t suit?’

‘Me...in the long term. I’d go stir-crazy after a while.’ He wasn’t interested in holidaying his whole life away.