by Karly Lane
‘Oh no. George!’
‘That’s what I thought too, until Harry’s solicitor informed me that I have first option on buying it.’
‘Buying it? Can you? I mean, can you afford it?’ Shannon asked carefully.
With her savings, and the money she’d invested from her inheritance after her father had died, she was fairly certain she’d have enough for a sizeable deposit. ‘I think I could,’ she said calmly—far more calmly than she was actually feeling.
‘Oh wow, George. This is huge. Are you going to do it?’
‘I don’t know, I mean I always knew that when Harry was gone there was a possibility the family would want to sell, but I was counting on it taking a long time and then possibly the new owner wanting to run it with a manager. I hadn’t ever considered becoming the new owner myself.’
‘Harry loved you like a granddaughter,’ Shannon said gently. ‘I’m sure if he could have, he’d have given it to you.’
‘With the price they’re asking, he pretty much is.’
‘Then it sounds like you’ve got your answer.’
Georgie let out a somewhat shaky breath. Shannon was right. This was an opportunity that wouldn’t come around again, despite the fact it would mean risking her dream of ever owning Tamban. Everything she had would be tied up in Stoney Creek for a very long time. If Tamban suddenly came on the market, she wouldn’t be in a position to do anything about it. Was it worth taking that risk? She knew the possibility was a slim one—Michael had said himself, it was unlikely the property would be sold once the corporation had hold of it, but it still felt like a betrayal of something sacred to give up on a dream that had kept her moving ahead when she’d felt like giving up.
Now though, every time she thought of Tamban she also thought of Michael. The property was tied up with too many painful memories.
Stoney Creek had no connection to Michael, to her painful family history. It could be hers, with no ties to the past. A fresh start on a blank sheet of paper.
Part Two
Fifteen
Brisbane, eighteen months later
Georgie dropped her head in defeat. How hard could it be? All she had to do was catch a plane to Brisbane and check into her hotel, but it seemed that was beyond her today. The flight had been delayed and her luggage had apparently decided to go on its own adventure to Adelaide—without her—and now the baby-faced concierge behind his shiny marble-topped reservation desk was delivering more bad news.
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but your reservation isn’t here.’
Georgie’s mood plummeted even further. Biting back her frustration, mindful that the man behind the counter was only doing his job, she forced a smile.
‘Okay, well, could I just book a room now? I’ll sort out the mix-up later.’
‘I’m terribly sorry but we have a conference on this weekend and we’re completely booked up.’
Her smile flickered then died.
She saw the concierge’s gaze dart to a point behind her and then she heard his voice.
‘There has to be a mistake, my brother booked the rooms personally over six months ago.’
Georgie spun around.
‘I’m sorry, sir, as I’ve already explained, we’re booked out or I would offer Ms Henderson an upgrade in apology, but as it stands, I have nothing available.’
Georgie felt as though the floor was tilting beneath her feet. She’d hoped to be better prepared before she set eyes on Michael again for the first time in over eighteen months.
‘It’s okay, I’ll just go to another hotel.’
She didn’t need this right now, on top of everything that had gone wrong today. She hated that Michael was seeing her when she was flustered and out of sorts. None of this was going the way she’d planned it in her head. She backed away from the reception desk, a smile aimed carelessly towards the frazzled concierge.
‘Georgie, wait up a minute. I think you’ll find there won’t be anything available anywhere at this late stage. The Ecca is on this weekend as well.’
‘I’ll find something.’ She didn’t wait for a response, just hurried across the foyer and out into the bright sunshine and the bustling inner-city street. Shoving on her dark sunglasses, she debated which way to try first, when a hand came to rest on her arm.
‘Georgie?’
She turned, letting out an irritated sigh. ‘I don’t have time to chat, Michael, I need to find a room. Shannon’s expecting me, and there’s still a heap to do before the wedding.’ She’d already wasted enough time stopping off at a department store to replace the basics of her missing luggage.
‘I have a solution.’
She knew it was going to be a solution she wouldn’t like, by the careful way he was gauging her reaction.
‘I have a suite and there’s a spare bedroom that you’re more than welcome to.’ She was shaking her head before he even got the last word out. ‘I thought you were here to help Shannon, not give her more grief,’ he accused.
She bristled at his tone, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
‘Do you think she’s going to be thrilled when she discovers you’re not even staying in the same hotel? Not to mention how stressed she’s going to be if you can’t find another room, because you know she won’t rest until she’s sorted something out for you.’
He was right, of course. Shannon was a control freak. She would take it upon herself to personally knock on every hotel door until she located a room, even if that meant putting off important jobs still yet to be completed for the big day.
Damn it.
‘Fine.’ She gave in reluctantly and more than a little ungraciously. ‘But I’m going to keep looking for a room, and if one comes up, I’m taking it,’ she added.
‘Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to do anything less than be completely contrary,’ he muttered.
She let that slide, conscious of the time. She only had an hour before she was due to meet with Shannon.
While Michael registered, Georgie took the opportunity to sneak a look at him. He hadn’t changed at all in the past eighteen months—if anything he seemed even more attractive. Damn him to hell. How was that even fair?
He wore a dark blue business suit and he’d already loosened his tie and looked about as ready for a shower as she was. An image of his broad naked back in a steamy stall flashed before her eyes and she immediately slammed the brakes on that train of thought.
‘Georgie!’
She turned and broke into a huge smile.
‘Shannon!’
The two women grabbed each other in a warm hug and Georgie blinked back happy tears. ‘I can’t believe you’re finally doing this. You’re going to be a married woman at last.’
Shannon’s radiant smile lit up her beautiful round face, and her eyes sparkled like the sapphires they resembled.
‘I’ve got so much to do before Sunday. I’m so happy you’re here, I don’t think I can do all this by myself.’
‘It’s okay, it’s only Thursday. We have plenty of time to pull this thing together,’ Georgie assured her.
‘Excuse me, ladies.’ Michael appeared from behind the women and came to a stop next to Georgie. ‘How about I organise your luggage to be sent to the rooms and then you two can go and do whatever it is you need to do to prepare for the wedding?’
‘That’s a great idea, thanks, Michael.’ Shannon smiled gratefully.
Plastering a smile on her face, Georgie handed over her packages.
‘Travelling light nowadays?’ he queried with a hitch in his eyebrow.
Georgie shook her head. ‘Don’t ask.’
‘Brent is waiting for you in our room. You two are due at the tailors for a fitting, then we’re all meeting up for dinner,’ Shannon rattled off, taking Georgie’s arm and steering her towards the lift.
In the basement car park Georgie slid into the passenger seat of Shannon’s BMW and whistled admiringly at the leather upholstery and flashy gadgets on the dash.
‘I
t’s a wedding present from Brent. I know,’ she said, holding up a palm and rolling her eyes at Georgie’s cynical expression, ‘it’s a little extreme, but oh my God, Georgie, I still wake up feeling as though this is all a fairytale.’ She sounded like a besotted woman in love and Georgie found herself smiling at her happiness.
For a moment the heavy weight of regret settled on her heart as she recalled a time when she’d felt the same way. Had she really been that in love? She knew the answer was yes, otherwise the separation would not have hurt so much. And it had hurt—it’d almost killed her. She’d always thought people who said that kind of thing were being melodramatic. How could a breakup almost kill a person? But now she knew better. Maybe it couldn’t literally kill you, but it’d felt like something had died—hopes, dreams, happiness . . it had hurt a lot more than she’d thought possible before falling in love with Michael Delacourt.
She’d been lucky in a twisted kind of way. Everything had happened at once: losing Harry, buying the farm, suddenly finding herself with a large property and loan for which she was solely responsible. That in itself had been enough to ensure she didn’t drop the ball, no matter how many times she’d wanted to. Had she not had all those distractions she wasn’t sure how long it would have taken to get over Michael and their sham of a marriage. Get over? She pushed the little niggly voice out of her head. Of course she’d got over it. It was a whirlwind moment of insanity. How on earth could anyone think you could fall in love with a complete stranger, get married and expect it would actually last? It sounded like a stupid reality TV program and boy did those shows annoy her. She was not a human guinea pig and her life was not some social experiment. At least she hadn’t done it on national television and been forced to endure public humiliation on top of it all. She supposed that was one positive to take from the whole disaster.
She looked sideways at her best friend and thought how different all this might have been if she and Michael had told everyone about their wedding. It was the first and only time she hadn’t included Shannon in something important and she’d felt bad about it, until now. Now she was glad they’d never told anyone. Having everyone know how stupid she’d been might have been enough to keep her from being part of this wedding. She didn’t think she could have faced all those curious stares and questions. No, it was better this way—dead and buried. Life had gone on and so had she. She couldn’t imagine Stoney Creek not being hers, and she felt proud of all the hard work she’d done to make that happen.
She was a long way from being a financial success, but her decisions and careful planning were helping her reach her goals. She wasn’t in this to become a millionaire—there were easier, far less stressful ways of achieving that than farming. She was doing it because this was what she was born to do. She was a farmer and she loved the land and there was no other place she’d rather be.
As Georgie and Shannon travelled across the city going from florist to caterer to photographer, they chattered non-stop, catching up on news and reliving old times. The afternoon seemed to fly past and Georgie could see that her friend hadn’t been exaggerating—there was a lot to do and time seemed to be stuck on fast forward, disappearing before their eyes.
Late that afternoon, after they’d been to the last appointment, Shannon left Georgie at the elevators, with a warning not to be late for dinner as she hugged her goodbye.
Smacking a hand to her forehead in frustration as she watched her friend vanish down the corridor, Georgie realised she’d forgotten about dinner when she’d done her hasty wardrobe shopping earlier. Turning on her heel, she ran out the front door and hailed a taxi. This was proving to be a very expensive wedding. She’d done more shopping in the past few hours than she’d managed to do in years.
Michael sank down on the chair in the suite and took a long sip from the glass in his hand. He’d been steeling himself to see her again, counting down the days until his brother’s wedding, and yet it had still felt like a swift kick to the gut.
He’d almost high-fived the concierge when he heard there’d been a mix-up with the room booking. He couldn’t have planned it any better if he’d tried. Finally something seemed to be going his way. Christ, she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. Although if her lack of enthusiasm over his solution to her problem was any indication, she was still just as unimpressed with him as she had been a year and a half ago.
Had it only been eighteen months? It’d felt like an eternity. He was a patient man—he’d mastered the art of waiting out an opponent in business, and he could hold a poker face with the best of them, a skill he’d had to utilise in order to hide the fact he’d been going through hell ever since Georgie had shut him out of her life and the bright future he’d imagined had died a slow, painful death.
Hearing her voice today, for the first time in God only knew how long, had almost brought him to his knees. He’d missed her, more than he thought humanly possible. She didn’t answer his calls—their only communication was via the occasional email, which could have been some interoffice generated memo for all the personal touch it usually held, reminding him to do something about their divorce.
She flat out refused to meet with him face to face after that night he’d driven out to Stoney Creek to see her. He thought back to how desperate he’d been, and that helpless, hollow feeling stirred once more inside him. Swearing softly, he stood up and took his drink to the glass window that overlooked the city below and stared out, not seeing any of it. He was lost again in that dark place he’d been unable to climb out of since Georgie gave back her rings and effectively ended their marriage. Only, she hadn’t officially ended it, and he point blank refused to do it. So they were in a holding pattern of sorts. They were still legally married, and until something was done to change it, there was still a chance he could make things right.
He took another long drink. Maybe it was pointless to keep hoping—there were times when he knew it would be better for his sanity if he just gave up and moved on like she seemed to have done. Yet, call it sheer bloody-mindedness, he refused to believe they couldn’t salvage this relationship. He knew it was his fault—he shouldn’t have left it so long to explain everything—but surely, after this long, she’d be in a better place to listen to him. Surely she would let him prove to her how different his business was, not to mention that his bloody stepfather wouldn’t play any part in their future. He’d been biding his time until now, knowing they’d see each other again—on neutral ground at his brother’s wedding. This was it. This was when he was finally going to make her see that what they had was too important to throw away.
Georgie gave a tentative knock on the door to the suite, waiting as she listened to footsteps approaching on the other side. Her breath caught as the door opened and she came face to chest with Michael. He wore black dress pants, and an unbuttoned silver shirt hung open, exposing a wide chest with dark hair sprinkled across tanned skin. His short hair, cut close to his head, was still wet from the shower. He seemed harder nowadays, and standing this close she detected a scent—a mixture of ocean, sun-warmed skin and … man. He’d always smelled nice, something that tugged at her memories. Swallowing over a suddenly dry throat, she dropped her gaze and it came to rest on the arm holding open the door for her. For a guy who spent most of his time behind a desk, he certainly seemed to keep fit—that much was evident.
‘Are you going to come inside or shall I just pass your clothes out to you?’
Stepping past, she was careful to avoid brushing against him as she moved further into the lush suite. The hallway opened out onto an open-plan living area complete with leather sofa and massive widescreen TV. A large glass door led to a private patio with magnificent views of the city and river below. She paused in front of the two open doors of the bedrooms.
‘I put your things in the bedroom to the right,’ he informed her in a low voice that was doing its best to stir up old feelings.
‘Thank you. I’ll just have a quick shower if that’s ok
ay,’ she said over her shoulder as she entered the bedroom and shook out the items she’d purchased onto her bed, hastily pulling off tags.
In the doorway Michael watched with a bemused expression. ‘I remember a time I had to drag you into a shopping centre, and yet here you are buying the place out.’
Sending him a brief glance, she continued to pull out paper stuffing from inside new shoes and cut the price tags from a shimmering silver cocktail dress. Turning around, Georgie froze when she saw Michael swinging a pair of her new lacy underwear on his finger nonchalantly.
Snatching the garment, she felt her face flare with humiliation as she heard the intimate chuckle that could once—and who was she kidding, could still—send a tingle up her spine.
‘They lost my luggage and I’ve had to replace a few things,’ she muttered through clenched teeth.
Immediately he straightened. ‘Did they give you credit to replace your clothing?’
‘No, it was going to take too much time, I was already late. It’s no big deal.’
‘You should have told me earlier. How much have you spent? Here, take this to cover it, and make sure you tell me if there’s anything else you need.’
Georgie narrowed her gaze at the man holding out a wad of colourful notes to her. ‘I don’t need your money, Michael.’
Slowly he dropped his arm and a tight expression replaced the teasing glint of a few moments before. ‘I think you’ve made yourself more than clear over the last year and a half.’
She headed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and leaning back against it wearily. Delayed shock made her hands shake and suddenly her legs had all the consistency of jelly. Why did she have to be stuck with him of all people? All she wanted was to get this damn wedding over so she could leave Michael bloody Delacourt in her past where he belonged.