She recalled asking him once what he thought of Isabel and he had retreated into himself, shutting her out Until she’d slid hot kisses along the line of his square jaw to nibble teasingly on his earlobe. Then he’d turned to her, his arms holding her almost desperately to him, kissing her with a fierce passion that had at first frightened and then inflamed her.
‘And how’s Aunt Isabel coping with Uncle Peter’s last attack?’ Morgan asked.
‘With her usual self-possession,’ Jarrod replied evenly.
‘She’s a cold fish, that’s for sure.’
‘Morgan!’ Georgia reprimanded her sister.
‘Well, she is, Georgia. She’s always been like that. When I was a kid I used to wonder what she’d do if I climbed on her knee and put my sticky fingers on her dress, but I was never game to find out’ Morgan giggled. ‘I reckon she’d have passed out if I had. She wasn’t a bit like our mother. You’d never have known they were sisters, would you, Jarrod?’
‘No, I suppose not’ Jarrod turned off the highway and Georgia sensed an even deeper undercurrent in his flat tone.
‘But then again,’ Morgan continued, ‘you’d never guess Georgia and I were sisters. Georgia is the image of Mum and Lockie’s fair like Dad.’ She gave a soft laugh. ‘I’m somewhere in the middle. And, speaking of Lockie, where is our dear brother anyway?’
‘Collecting his van from Andy’s,’ Georgia told her. ‘Or, at least, he was,’ she added as Jarrod drew to a halt in the driveway behind Lockie’s van. ‘He’s actually beaten us home.’
The outside light flicked on, illuminating the path, and as they climbed the steps Lockie opened the door.
‘Great timing!’ he exclaimed. ‘You OK, Morgan?’
‘I’m fine now, Lockie,’ Morgan assured him with a faintly martyred air.
Jarrod set down her suitcase and Lockie turned to him. ‘Hey, thanks for stepping in and helping us out, mate.’
‘Yes, poor Jarrod.’ Morgan pulled a face. ‘Only back a week and you’re already rescuing the Grayson family again. Dad told me when Lockie was young you were always saving him from all sorts of scrapes. Georgia too.’
Jarrod laughed easily and Georgia’s nerve-endings vibrated elatedly. ‘As a boy Lockie had the very worst luck of anyone I knew for being caught out by his father or mine.’
‘And when Georgia was late she just used to say she was with you and Dad accepted it without question.’ Lockie laughed with him.
Oh, Lockie. Georgia swallowed painfully. She’d always said she was with Jarrod because it had been the truth.
‘Georgia staying out late at night?’ Morgan put her hands on her hips. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Ha! You can hardly dictate to me, then, can you? Or is it the old, Do as I say not as I do?’ She smirked at her sister. ‘You’re blushing, Georgia. That’s what comes of having a shady past.’
Georgia’s vocal cords refused point-blank to function and for the life of her she couldn’t conjure up a light retort. She shot a quick, desperate glance at her brother and saw that his face had coloured too. She didn’t dare look at Jarrod.
Lockie broke into the lengthening silence. ‘Well, you know what they say, Morgan-it’s the quiet ones you have to watch. And no one could call you quiet. But anyway,’ he continued quickly before she could interject, ‘what’s all this rubbish about Steve hitting you?’
‘He did hit me. Look.’ She indicated a slightly reddened mark on her cheekbone. ‘But don’t worry—I hit him right back. Then he just walked out. End of story.’
Lockie raised his eyebrows. ‘What was the fight about?’
‘Nothing. And everything.’ Morgan pursed her lips. ‘He’s pig-headed and obstinate.’
‘You should know about that, Morgan. Pig-headed and obstinate? Then that makes two of you,’ Lockie remarked drily.
‘Don’t you start, Lockie.’ Morgan pouted. ‘I’ve already had enough from Georgia. And I really don’t care to face the big-brother, big-sister inquisition tonight. I didn’t get any sleep last night and I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, maybe. I think I’ll go to bed now.’ She turned back to Jarrod and the sulky look left her pretty face. ‘No one around here understands me,’ she murmured with a sigh. ‘I can sympathise with you, Jarrod. I’d cut and run if I had the chance too.’ And with a flounce she left them.
Lockie grimaced at Jarrod and picked up his sister’s suitcase. ‘Give us strength! How about some coffee? I could do with a shot of caffeine and I put the kettle on just before you arrived home. Want a cup, Jarrod?’
He inclined his head. ‘Thanks.’
Georgia moved towards the kitchen and to her consternation Jarrod followed her, watching silently as she set out the coffeemugs.
Flashes of conversation came disjointedly back.
‘Isabel sent for me.’
‘You’re still more of a hunk than you have a right to be.’
‘I’m about the same age Georgia was…’
And with torturous clarity she saw again Morgan’s small hand on Jarrod’s arm.
‘How’s the coffee coming?’ Lockie appeared behind Jarrod, fragmenting the atmosphere of solid tension in the kitchen. ‘Morgan’s decided she’s not going to bed and she’ll have a cup too,’ he added, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, and Georgia automatically reached for another mug.
When she’d poured hot water over the coffee grains she set the steaming mugs on a tray, but before she could lift it Jarrod had taken the tray and motioned for her to precede him into the living room.
Morgan was already in the room and had draped herself over a chair. As Jarrod passed her a mug of coffee she smiled up at him.
‘Thanks, Jarrod.’ Her young voice was softly husky. ‘I suppose you’ve noticed a few changes around the area,’ she continued brightly. ‘The new shopping complex and then all the houses that seem to be sprouting up like mushrooms.’
‘Well, he has been away for four years, Morgan,’ Lockie said scornfully. ‘And I’m more interested in the States. Tell us about that, Jarrod.’
He shrugged and sat down. ‘Not much to tell really. I’ve been working pretty hard.’
‘That’s sacrilegious!’ Morgan exclaimed, and her glance slid to her sister. ‘You sound like Georgia. That’s all she ever does. Work, work and more work.’
Georgia sank wearily onto the sofa, yearning for the solitude of her bed, the oblivion of sleep. ‘You’re exaggerating, Morgan.’
‘And it’s a pity you don’t do a bit of work.’ Lockie frowned at his younger sister. ‘Instead of swanning around with your friends all day.’
A flush washed Morgan’s cheeks and she sent Lockie a withering look. ‘I don’t swan around. And jobs aren’t exactly thick on the ground around here, brother dear.’
‘We know that, Morgan,’ Georgia put in placatingly, but before she could continue Morgan held up her hand.
‘I can feel a lecture coming on so I think I will go to bed after all.’ She stood up and set her coffee-mug on the table with a bang. ‘You know, I really think you two will be disappointed if I don’t go and get myself into mega-trouble.’ She flounced out of the room.
Lockie muttered under his breath. ‘Seems to me Steve and Morgan are quite prepared to play at being grown-ups but they’re too young emotionally to handle the situation they’ve got themselves into.’ He paused and turned, frowning, to Georgia. ‘Into trouble? You don’t think she’s taking drugs or-well, that she could be…?’
Georgia’s hands tightened on her coffee-mug, her knuckles whitening with tension. Her gaze rose to meet Lockie’s and he reddened, his eyes falling from hers.
‘No. Of course, she wouldn’t be that stupid,’ he contradicted himself quickly, and gave a nervous laugh. ‘Anyway, enough of Morgan. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all this, Jarrod.’ He glanced back at his sister. ‘Never a dull moment around here, is there, Georgia? And you must be exhausted, arriving home from a hard day at work then having to go racing out to bring Morgan home.’
<
br /> Georgia nodded and took a gulp of her coffee. It wasn’t work or the drama with their sister that was responsible for her feeling like a piece of chewed string.
If only she was on her own so she could rationally evaluate her reactions. Yet how could she have known just how radically the reappearance of Jarrod Maclean would affect her? Because, as much as she wished she could deny it, the fact was that he did still have the power to turn her emotions upside down.
She could see herself at seventeen again. That had been when Jarrod had come home after graduating. Georgia had been playing tennis and had been hot and dishevelled from the long cycle home. She’d walked in and he’d been there, in that same chair. When she’d entered the room he’d stood up, and he was a good four inches taller than her brother. Her eyes had lifted too, over his long, lithe body, to meet those fantastic blue eyes.
From beneath her lowered lashes Georgia watched Jarrod take a sip of his coffee, his strong neck muscles working as he swallowed.
Did he remember too? Probably not Why would he?
‘What were we talking about?’ Lockie continued. ‘Oh, yes. The changes around here.’
‘I thought I’d taken the wrong exit when I headed out along the highway the day I arrived,’ Jarrod remarked easily. ‘But once I turned onto that road outside I knew I was back. At least our little bit has stayed the same.’
Lockie’s eyes ran over the high-ceilinged lounge of their large old house. ‘Mmm. Lucky your father never had to sell off his land. Minus this little plot he sold to our father. Fifty acres, isn’t it?’
Jarrod nodded.
Georgia’s nervous system felt as if it had been constricted into a tight block, shaky and volatile. How could the three of them be sitting here so amicably discussing something as mundane as this while the awful events of four years ago sat with them?
‘They must have been good friends back then, Dad and Uncle Peter,’ Lockie was saying. ‘I mean for Uncle Peter to sell our father and mother this place.’
At that particular moment Georgia’s eyes were on Jarrod’s hands and with a shock she watched his knuckles whiten as his fingers tightened around his coffee-mug. Her gaze flew to his face and she saw a flicker of a nerve beating in his suddenly tensed jaw.
What could have sparked off his reaction? Surely he didn’t begrudge her parents this land? After all, Geoff Grayson had bought this house and had had it moved onto this block at least ten years before anyone had been aware that Jarrod even existed.
Georgia continued to surreptitiously watch him but his long lashes now safely shielded the expression in his eyes. He seemed intent on the remains of the coffee in his mug.
‘Of course this place needs a few running repairs now,’ Lockie continued easily. ‘Dad’s always just about to start on it when he gets a job working on someone else’s place. I’ve promised to give him a hand to paint the outside when he gets back from the coast. And the wiring needs attention too.’
Jarrod smiled stiffly, crossing one long denim-clad leg over the other, the rasp of the thick material echoing loudly to Georgia’s sensitised hearing, and she swallowed.
‘These old colonial styles are beautiful but there’s quite a bit of upkeep on them,’ he said evenly.
‘And how.’ Lockie glanced at his wrist-watch and when the phone rang he grinned broadly. ‘Right on time. That’ll be Mandy. She said she’d ring to let me know she’d arrived safely. If you’ll excuse me, Jarrod, I’ll take it on the extension in the kitchen.’ He stood up and raced along the hallway.
Georgia blinked in surprise at Lockie’s sudden exit. Her brother really was the limit. Leaving her alone with Jarrod was developing into a harrowing habit. She shifted uncomfortably on her seat.
‘Mandy, Lockie’s fianc&e2;e, flew home to New Zealand today to visit her family,’ she got out. ‘I suppose you met her last time you called in.’
He shook his head. ‘No, she was working. But Lockie told me they were engaged.’
‘She’s very nice. Everyone likes her. She’s become part of the family.’ Georgia knew she was babbling inanely but couldn’t seem to stop herself. ‘They plan to marry later in the year.’
‘I’m surprised. At Lockie tying himself down,’ he expanded. ‘Even though he’s-what, nearly twenty-eight? Somehow I find it hard to cast Lockie in the role of family man.’
Georgia caught back the bitter laugh that rose inside her. She’d been prepared to settle down with him when he had been younger than Lockie was now.
‘But I guess I’m four years behind. I’m afraid I still see Lockie as a gangling youth with a guitar.’ He smiled faintly and Georgia couldn’t prevent her eyes from shifting to meet his. And she was held captive by the achingly familiar wonder of his attraction.
She was mesmerised by the shape of his mouth, the upward tilt of the corners, the white slash of strong teeth against his tanned skin, the two creases that deepened when he smiled, running furrows in his cheeks. And she wanted to follow their course with the tip of her tongue, follow them right to the corners of his mouth and within. Georgia dragged her libidinous thoughts back from that so dangerous ground.
‘It’s incredible how quickly the years pass.’
‘Is it?’ The bitter words were out before she had consciously formed them and he looked across at her, suddenly still. Georgia forced herself to relax a little. ‘I thought it was only elderly people who complained about that,’ she added quickly with a forced-sounding laugh.
His mouth twisted in self-mockery. ‘Then perhaps I’m getting old.’
That same awkward silence fell between them and Georgia took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee.
‘Peter missed you this week,’ he said softly, his words taking her by surprise.
‘I’m sorry.’ Her eyes flitted about the room. ‘I’ve been fairly busy, and with you coming home-well, I…’ She shrugged.
‘You didn’t want to take a chance on running into me,’ he finished quietly.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Georgia flushed guiltily. ‘Why would I feel like that? I thought your father would want time alone with you. And, as I said, I’ve just been busy.’
‘Yes, it seems you have. I’ve been here twice and missed you both times.’ He slid his empty coffee-mug onto the tray and stood up, taking a couple of stiff-legged strides across the carpet ‘We had to meet eventually, Georgia. Surely you knew that?’ he said flatly.
‘Of course I knew.’ She swallowed, her mouth dry. ‘Really, Jarrod, you’re reading far more into this than is there.’
‘Am I, Georgia?’ He turned back to her, folding his strong arms across his chest. The worn denim of his jeans pulled tautly across his thighs, and she felt her heartbeats quicken in that old familiar way.
And it was familiar, she realised with total shock. Although in four years no man had touched on those intoxicating emotions, suddenly the years slid away as though they’d never been and she was physically alert to the muscular nuances of his body, the deep tone of his voice. Georgia’s mouth dried as panic rose inside her. Not again, she admonished herself. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her again.
‘I’m sorry, Georgia.’ He sighed. ‘You know if it hadn’t been for Peter I wouldn’t have come back. I had no control over that.’
Georgia’s heart twisted painfully. Well, she told herself brutally, if she was harbouring any illusions about his return she’d be advised to nip them in the bud before they grew to envelop her again. There had never been any chance that he had returned to her. How could she be so foolish to imagine he might have? Even if she’d wanted him to…
‘But as I am here—well,’ he continued with a grimace, ‘like it or not, we’re going to run into each other once in a while.’ ‘That needn’t be often,’ she said with an evenness she was proud of. ‘I suppose you’ve taken over your father’s business, so you’ll probably be working, and so will I. I can visit your father when you’re at the office so we needn’t see each other at all.’ She steeled herself to hold hi
s gaze.
A pulse flickered in his jaw. ‘If that’s what you want.’
Georgia swallowed. What she wanted was to wipe away the four years and that fateful night, have everything back to normal between them. His love. Her belief in his integrity. So many things. But that was impossible.
She pushed herself to her feet and stood facing him, her chin held high. ‘I think perhaps that might be best, Jarrod, considering-well…’ She shrugged uneasily.
‘Considering?’ His blue eyes had narrowed.
‘Considering all that…’ Georgia paused again ‘…all that happened. I’m a lot older now, and a lot wiser. So please don’t worry that I might make another distasteful scene. That’s all behind me.’
His eyes burned into hers across the few feet separating them. ‘I don’t recall saying that you would, Georgia.’ He ran a strong hand through his dark hair. ‘Look, we used to be friends. Let’s start again and try to at least be civil to each other.’
His deep voice struck more raw and tender chords and Georgia bit off a sharp, incredulous laugh. ‘Civil? I’m sure we can. You. Me. And Aunt Isabel.’
CHAPTER THREE
JARROD’S lips thinned and a faint flush seemed to colour the line of his high cheekbones.
‘I don’t intend to defend myself again, Georgia. I’ve done more than enough of that. Perhaps I was asking too much for us to leave the past where it is, behind us. But I would have liked you and me to remain friends,’ he said slowly, as though he was having trouble forming the words, and then he sighed. ‘It’s late. I guess I should be going. I’ve got an early start in the morning. Peter wants me to visit the Gold Coast branch.’
You used to take me with you. Georgia longed to say the words. Her eyes rested on him, her breathing becoming shallow as more old memories rose to haunt her. No! Concentrate on now, she instructed herself angrily. But the present meant looking at him, drinking in the tall length of him.
His body came the closest to perfection of any man’s she’d ever seen. Those strong legs, muscular thighs, narrow hips, taut buttocks, straight back, broad, well-built shoulders, solid arms that wrapped around you, making you feel safe and warm and wanted.
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