by Karly Lane
She had a quick shower before sliding into her dress. She’d get through tonight and the next, and before she knew it, the wedding would be over and she could go home and forget all about Michael … again. Her resolve suitably strengthened, she pulled her hair into a messy loose bun and gave her reflection a quick once-over.
When she came out of the bathroom Michael was standing with his back towards her, staring out over the bright lights of the city. He caught her reflection in the sliding glass doors and lifted his head slightly. ‘If you’re ready, we should go,’ he said without turning.
A small stab of guilt fluttered in her stomach. His tone was curt, and she knew he’d been hurt by her outburst earlier. ‘Michael, we need to talk about the div—’
‘We’re going to be late.’ He cut her off abruptly, stalking across the room and holding the door open for her.
She felt her shoulders droop at his refusal once again to discuss the topic she’d been unsuccessfully trying to bring up for the past eighteen months in emails. It wasn’t worth getting upset about now though; this was Shannon’s weekend and it wouldn’t be fair to the happy couple to have the best man and bridesmaid shooting daggers at each other throughout the entire wedding.
Shannon wore a smirk as they approached the table out on the deck overlooking a small man-made lagoon. ‘I didn’t realise you two were going to colour coordinate your entire wardrobe. Really guys, just for the wedding day would have been enough.’
Georgie glanced down at her dress and then over at Michael. It hadn’t even registered during their earlier squabble that they were in fact both wearing silver. The silk material of Michael’s shirt gleamed like moonlight across water—it was almost exactly the same shade as the slinky cocktail dress she wore.
They took their seats and the wine was poured. Gradually Georgie felt herself begin to unwind. Throughout the meal, she laughed with Shannon as they relived old times growing up together on neighbouring properties. Talk soon turned to Georgie and her business, and Shannon’s shameless praise made her blush as Michael’s eyes danced with quiet amusement.
‘Did you know Georgie’s business just received a tourism award?’ Shannon announced with a proud beam at her old friend.
Michael tipped his head and smiled. ‘I read about it. Congratulations, Georgie.’
Her eyes shot to Michael’s in surprise.
She’d thrown herself into making her business a success. Considering she’d been planning the farm stay for years, never really expecting Harry to agree to it, and thinking that maybe one day down the track on her own place she could do it, she’d pretty much hit the ground running once the sale of Stoney Creek went through. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she did it. The recognition that the nomination had given her had been fantastic for both her cattle and the farm-stay side of business. Life was looking up. Well, career-wise anyway.
‘Congratulations, Georgie. I’m really glad you’ve managed to move past everything that happened with the old man,’ Brent said.
Beside her she saw Michael’s hand freeze as he lifted his wineglass to his lips, and across the table Shannon quietly put down her dessert spoon.
Georgie managed to swallow her mouthful of cheesecake and gave him a tight smile. ‘Thanks.’
She saw Michael’s mouth straighten into a thin line, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the table.
Brent sent a confused glance towards his fiancée. ‘Sorry, I just meant you’ve done really well, getting your own place … and everything,’ he said, his words petering out as Shannon gave a slight shake of her head.
‘It’s okay, I know what you meant. Thanks Brent,’ Georgie said, and was relieved when the conversation moved on to other topics. It was her own fault, she supposed. As much as she loved Shannon and was happy that she’d found the man of her dreams, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to spend any time really getting to know Brent, so she could hardly blame the guy for at least attempting to make conversation. Maybe it had been unfair to allow her dislike of his family get in the way of knowing him, but in her defence, she had been incredibly busy since becoming the owner of Stoney Creek. Managing a place was very different to suddenly becoming the owner, responsible for absolutely everything. She hadn’t had time to do much of anything except work.
Thankfully dinner was soon over and Georgie, pleading a headache—which wasn’t actually a lie—said goodnight. Michael discreetly passed her the room key, and with mumbled thanks she left the bar.
As she wiped the makeup from her face, she stared into her reflection. The earlier conversation had dredged up memories and they ran through her mind like film clips. Her hand began to shake as she remembered the last time she’d seen her father, his vehicle around a tree on a lonely stretch of road leading away from their property.
Turning from the mirror abruptly, she pushed away the memories and climbed in between cold, crisp sheets. An hour later she heard the front door open. She held her breath as Michael paused outside her door, before obviously thinking better of knocking and instead continuing on to his own room.
For a long time afterwards she heard nothing over the loud thudding of her heart, and she spent the rest of the night staring into the shadows of her lonely room.
Michael watched Georgie leave the table and fought the urge to go after her. He knew her well enough to know she’d resent his presence if he followed her to the room right now. As usual when her father or Tamban were mentioned, the defences came up. Some things clearly hadn’t changed.
He ordered a drink at the bar and stared down into its amber depths, lost in thought.
‘She’s not always like this,’ Shannon said from beside him.
‘Who?’ Michael asked, unsure where this conversation might be leading.
‘Georgie,’ she said, pausing to give the bartender her order before turning back to look at him. ‘You know, I can’t work out what’s going on with you two.’
It took all his concentration not to react to the unexpected remark. ‘There’s nothing going on,’ he told her dryly and could at least say that without lying.
Shannon tilted her head slightly, as though studying him, and he tried not to squirm. ‘She’s different around you. I noticed it last time too. She says there’s nothing going on either, but she forgets how well I know her.’
Michael sent his soon-to-be sister-in-law a slanted grin and shook his head. ‘Don’t you have enough on your plate to worry about at the moment without trying to play Cupid?’
‘Cupid?’ she snorted, and his smile slipped a little. ‘You think I’d match you and Georgie up?’
Well, that was not what he’d been expecting. He hitched an eyebrow curiously.
‘Oh, come on, Michael, you seriously think Georgie is anything like the women you take to all those fancy events? She’s not into all that. I can barely get her to come and visit for a weekend. You’d never drag her away from that farm of hers. Nope, I’m afraid the only way you’d get Georgie’s attention is if you suddenly grew four legs, a pair of horns and started mooing.’
He was glad he didn’t take offence easily or his ego would be stinging right about now.
‘But I have to say, I get a very strange vibe around the pair of you when you’re together, so I know something happened,’ she said, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘Stay away from her, Michael. She’s not one of your casual playthings,’ Shannon said, using air quotations.
‘Playthings?’
‘Celeste? Your PA? You’ve taken her to the last three fundraising events your mother’s hosted and I know her type.’
‘Shannon, I don’t think—’
‘Look, who you mess around with is your business, but you are not going to mess around with my best friend. She’s not into quick flings and she’s had too much heartbreak in her life to need any more. Besides, you aren’t even her type,’ she added.
‘No, really Shannon, please don’t soften it, tell it to me like it is,’ he drawled, not even trying to pr
etend he wasn’t hurt by her comments.
‘Okay, I may have had a little too much to drink and we both know I have no filter,’ she admitted with a dramatic sigh.
He knew she was talking about the first time she’d met his mother and stepfather for dinner and had had a bit too much Dutch courage beforehand. It had been a memorable first meeting for all the wrong reasons.
‘But you have to admit, Michael, you don’t have a great track record when it comes to women. Your mother is constantly trying to set you up with women who are wife material and you go out of your way to avoid them. So you stay away from my best friend,’ she said, poking his chest to emphasise each word.
‘Okay Cinderella, I think we better get you to bed before your glass slipper falls off,’ Brent cut in, sending Michael an apologetic grin as he bundled his fiancée under his arm and led her away.
Michael mulled over Shannon’s words and realised how it must look to the people around him. He did go through women, but not in the way Shannon supposed. He didn’t sleep with any of them. He only went out with them because he was expected to attend a number of business functions and it would only raise more suspicions if he went alone. He took Celeste because it kept his mother from trying to set him up with dates.
Once she’d understood he wasn’t interested in her in any way other than as his employee, she’d given up flirting with him in the office. Celeste was happy to be his cover date and it was a win–win situation for them both. She got to attend the sort of functions that gave her access to the men she liked—eligible, rich ones—and he was seen out and about with a glamorous woman, which kept his mother from asking too many questions about his private life.
He knew she was worried about him and she desperately wanted him to find a nice woman to settle down with, but how could he do that when he’d found one … and was already married to her? He didn’t want anyone else. He had a wife and one day soon she was going to forgive him and they’d work everything out. He had to believe that, because the alternative was too miserable to contemplate. He was still in love with Georgie and he wasn’t going to give up on her yet.
Sixteen
It was the countdown to the big day. Only seventy-two more hours to endure and she’d be home. She missed her animals and the peace of her farm. Although exciting to visit, the city held no real appeal for her, and she longed to be back in open spaces with wide blue skies above her.
Michael was out on the balcony when she emerged, dressed and ready for an early start.
‘You’re an early riser for a city boy.’ She slid the door shut behind her and took the seat across from his. The sun had barely risen, and the morning held the gentle coolness of an August morning. It was rather peaceful, if you ignored the steadily increasing traffic below.
‘And still you keep jumping to conclusions,’ he said with a dry smile, his denim eyes holding hers with a small challenge.
‘You don’t live in the city?’ she threw back.
‘I still have the apartment here, but I also spend time on my properties.’
‘Of course.’ Her expression hardened. His properties, which he’d fleeced from struggling farmers.
‘You return my money,’ he said, breaking the silence between them.
‘Every month,’ she agreed without removing her gaze from the city below.
‘I can afford it.’
‘I can’t,’ Georgie said hollowly as she looked over at him.
The beep of his phone cut through the tension that had flared between them. Michael’s jaw clenched as he snatched up his mobile and barked a terse greeting.
Georgie took the opportunity to slip back inside and make coffee in the kitchenette, leaving him to his phone call.
While the jug boiled, she sat down and pulled on her boots. Her good boots as opposed to her work boots. It was usually a bit of a pain finding something good to wear out. She didn’t do good clothes very often. Her missing bag had turned up and been delivered to the room, but she’d chosen the pair of jeans she’d bought yesterday. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn anything other than work clothes through the day. The cows didn’t particularly care how she looked—they weren’t judgemental like that.
‘Did you want a coffee?’ she asked when Michael wandered inside a few moments later, tossing his phone onto the bench, his brow creased in a frown.
‘I’ll wait and have real coffee downstairs at breakfast.’
‘Silly me, I should have realised you’d only drink the best.’
‘Sometimes I like to indulge myself in the finer things of life.’
Georgie lifted her eyes to his with a look that almost scorched him. ‘Sometimes you learn to be happy with instant.’
Michael stared at her, his face intent, refusing to shy away from her anger. ‘When are you going to stop hating the world and place the blame where it’s actually deserved?’
‘And just where would that be?’
‘It’s not at me, it’s not even at Matthew Enterprises. Has it ever occurred to you that the corporations you hate so much aren’t always the monsters you portray them as?’
‘Has it occurred to me that the big, rich corporations would ever be taking advantage of the small, downtrodden farmer?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘Do you know what happens when there’s no big business interested in someone’s land? The land sits on the market wasting away, using up resources those landholders don’t have, until the banks come in and foreclose, or the neighbours start circling. You might think Derrick screwed over your father—okay, and let’s face it, the man does nothing unless he’s set to make a decent profit from it, but even so, there’s no way any of the families around you back then could have scraped up anything like the amount your father got. Do I agree with my stepfather’s tactics? Hell no. I never have and it’s the main reason I got out. I wanted to do things better. It’s not all about making the biggest profit. It’s about creating a business that has principles and that can make a lot of people money, not just the CEO. The truth is, Georgie, there was nobody to blame for losing Tamban but your father. But he got a better deal from selling to a corporation than he would have had a hope of getting from anyone else. When you face that, then you’ll be free to allow yourself to be happy.’
Georgie froze, his words as cold as a slap. ‘When I face that? How dare you—’
‘What? Speak the truth? You’ve used your past as a crutch for too long. Someone needs to make you face the facts.’
‘And that someone is you?’
‘Why not? I am your husband.’
Georgie narrowed her gaze. ‘That gives you no right whatsoever.’
‘As your husband,’ he emphasised pointedly, ‘what affects you, affects me.’
Georgie gave an abrupt scoff, pushing away from the counter. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Is it? When I made those vows, I was serious. I have no intention of dishonouring them.’
‘Oh, for goodness sake. We were—’
‘Married,’ he cut in firmly. ‘For better or for worse. I’m a patient man, but the time has come to stop using your father and what happened as an excuse.’
‘We were stupid,’ she corrected firmly. ‘It was a mistake and I want it fixed once and for all.’
‘I don’t recall having to drag you to the altar.’
‘That was before I discovered you’d left out one tiny piece of information.’
‘Maybe, but you knew exactly what you wanted.’ His eyes caressed her face and his voice softened. ‘That fire you had—for your business, for your future … for us … it was all-consuming.’ His voice lowered and she found her eyes trapped by his gaze.
He was standing so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her face moments before his mouth was upon hers. Emotions she’d pushed away, feelings she’d ignored in order to survive those dark days after she’d sent him away were trying to burst through the floodgates. Pulling away, she found her breathing laboured and struggl
ed to control it.
‘That’s all you know how to do, isn’t it, Michael—take. You and your greedy company take whatever you want and don’t give a damn about the carnage you leave behind.’ The venom in her voice seemed to set him back on his heels momentarily.
‘Your leaving was never about what happened to your father and Tamban. It was about you being too stubborn to listen to my side,’ he said softly.
Her eyes flashed as his words hit home and she instantly came to her senses, moving away.
‘There is no your side. You deliberately kept your family connection to what happened to my father a secret. You treated me like a … a child, for goodness sake!’
‘Then stop acting like one. At some point over the last eighteen months you could have stopped feeling sorry for yourself long enough to take me up on one of my invitations to meet and talk.’
‘Just like at some point,’ she threw back at him, ‘you could have stopped being so bloody arrogant and accepted the fact that I’m not interested in talking to you … or anything else for that matter.’
‘I never would have picked you for a coward, Georgie.’
Georgie took a step back. He didn’t stop her walking away, but his quiet words unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
When are you going to stop hating the world and place the blame where it’s actually deserved? Michael’s words came back to her in the dark later that night.
There was nobody to blame for losing Tamban but your father.
She wanted to hate him for saying those words, but she knew she couldn’t. Not when they were the truth. She’d felt betrayed by her father for failing them. As an angry teenager all she saw was his selfish drinking and inability to fight for their land, for their heritage. With a few years of maturity up her sleeve, she knew there was a lot more to the story than that. Her mother’s death had been devastating. Georgie had been so caught up in her own grief, she hadn’t even considered her father’s.
Her parents had grown up together. They’d been high-school sweethearts. Best friends. Her father had lost his soulmate. But Georgie hadn’t been thinking about that back then. She’d been forced to take over the role of mother, trying to look after her dad and run the house, and she’d had no idea how to help the man who had turned to alcohol to dull the pain. Yes, he should have stepped up and been a father and a provider, but he’d got lost somewhere along the way and Georgie had been too young to know how to help him.