‘I thought he said-’ Jarrod stopped and frowned. ‘Are you sure Lockie isn’t getting carried away and expecting you to go along with him? I mean, I can set him straight if you want me to.’
Georgia raised her eyebrows. ‘Why would I need you to do that?’
Jarrod shrugged. ‘Lockie seems to have the knack of running roughshod over you all, exerting his charm all the way, of course.’ He smiled faintly.
‘I can stand up for myself, Jarrod.’ Georgia could feel her anger rise-anger that was out of all proportion to the crime. What gave him the right to the position of the great, almighty protector?
‘I know you can,’ he was agreeing. ‘I just thought it might help to have some backup for a change. And, considering you get so nervous before going on stage, it hardly seems worth putting yourself through it night after night.’ He looked up at her. ‘I’d say you were pretty uptight when I drove you to the club last night. You always used to suffer from stage fright.’
Used to. Yesterday. That was then, Jarrod. She didn’t want to talk about that now. Not with him. Never with him. She wanted to pour her pain over him, cut him the way reminders of the past sliced through her.
I’m surprised you remember, Jarrod.
Had she actually voiced those caustic words? Her eyes skimmed his face but obviously she hadn’t, for his expression was one of apparently relaxed enquiry.
She took a steadying breath, tired now of the whole thing. ‘Look, Jarrod, I’m not Country Blues’ usual lead singer,’ she said flatly. There, it was out. ‘I’m only standing in for Mandy until she gets back from New Zealand. Mandy, Lockie’s fianc&e2;e, sings with the band; she has been for the best part of a year.’
His gaze held hers for a long moment. ‘Then why did you tell me you were?’
‘I didn’t tell you I was. You simply misunderstood Lockie.’
‘That’s splitting hairs, isn’t it?’ Anger gravelled his voice.
‘It’s no big deal, is it?’ Georgia stated defensively. ‘I just didn’t think I was bound to tell you everything.’
His eyes fell. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘No, I don’t suppose you are.’
‘I couldn’t exactly leave Lockie in the lurch when he got this big break.’
‘No.’ Jarrod grimaced at his nearly empty can of beer. ‘And you do have a great voice,’ he said soffly, without expression.
Georgia’s gaze was drawn downwards. She was half standing, perched on the veranda rail, while he was seated, and of their own accord her eyes hungrily roamed the contours of his face. His dark lashes fanned over the tanned skin drawn over his cheekbones and she realised suddenly that he was thinner. His jeans didn’t fit as snugly over his narrow hips, and his face looked tired and more than a little gaunt. Was he…?
No! He was worried and upset about Uncle Peter’s precarious health. It would be a strain on anyone, knowing that your father’s life was slowly ebbing away. He wasn’t pining over a lost love the way she had done.
A thought she’d had before returned vividly to taunt her. Unless there was a girl in the States he’d had to leave behind. Why wouldn’t he have had girls in the past four years? There’d probably been dozens.
An aching pain again stabbed in the region of Georgia’s heart and she almost allowed a bitter laugh to escape at the idea that she was burningly jealous of every one of them.
‘Lockie thinks the songs he’s chosen for the album are great. He’s positive one song will be a smash hit.’ Jarrod broke in on her speculations. ‘What’s it called? Have I heard it?’
She stiffened, silently begging him not to ask her to talk about that song. She’d never played it for him.
‘There’re a couple of tunes the boys have been fiddling around with.’ She turned away to gaze unseeingly into the night.
‘Lockie sounded as though he thought one of the songs was pretty special.’
Georgia shrugged.
‘He said it was the sexiest song he’d ever heard.’
Was there a note of censure in his voice? Georgia’s lips tightened. She was being supersensitive. Overreacting. Trying to read into his words, his tone any small intimation that meant he might still care. The way Lockie said he did.
‘Sexy songs seem to sell,’ she remarked tritely, and he was silent for so long that she couldn’t prevent herself from sliding a sideways glance at him.
He was once again contemplating the can of beer he held, and from his expression it could have contained sand rather than the cold amber liquid. Her throat tightened as her eyes lingered on him. How she’d love to reach out to him the way she used to do in her spontaneous innocence, cradle his head against her, smooth the fine lines that radiated from the corner of his clear blue eyes. Laughter lines. And yet he gave the impression he rarely so much as smiled any more.
He glanced up then and caught her looking at him, couldn’t help but see the glow of remembered passion that she was too slow to hide.
For one minuscule fraction of a second she saw an answering flame burn just as feverishly in his eyes before his lashes fell to shutter it from her.
But it was enough to set Georgia’s heartbeats racing in her chest, tripping erratically over themselves in their sudden agitation. No, the fire hadn’t died in him any more than it had been extinguished inside her. That kiss had been an honest reaction on both their parts. Yet now she suspected he was taking great pains to prove to her that it had been otherwise.
Unless she was misinterpreting again. Maybe it had been no more than a blatant physical attraction between them. Then and now. And, perhaps because he recalled how hard she had taken it when she’d broken off their sordid little affair, he had no intention of becoming involved again, was taking no chances on a repeat performance.
Dear Lord! She had no inclination to go through that night again either. That dreadful night was printed indelibly, ineradicably on her mind.
When she closed her eyes she could almost smell the distinctive heavy scent of the blossoming golden wattle, just about feel the sensation of the cool breeze in her hair as she’d run sure-footedly along the track in the fast-gathering dusk, clutching her fantastic secret inside her. She had scarcely been able to wait to see Jarrod, to tell him.
The lights had been on in the Maclean living room. She’d known Uncle Peter was away in Hong Kong, and as she’d approached the house she’d seen Aunt Isabel’s immaculately groomed figure pause by the lighted window. Isabel’s hand had fluttered to finger the brooch she wore on the collar of her tailored blouse.
Georgia had taken the steps two at a time, her sneakers almost soundless on the wooden treads. She’d lifted her hand to press the chimes beside the open door but had hesitated as she’d heard her aunt speak.
It wasn’t that Georgia had intended to eavesdrop, it was simply that something in Isabel’s tone had held her momentarily motionless.
‘You know what you’ll have to do, don’t you, Jarrod?’ Isabel said.
‘I want to speak to my father first.’ Jarrod’s voice was almost unrecognisable, and Georgia drew in a sharp, surprised breath.
‘What good will that do?’ Isabel remarked in a barbed tone. ‘It won’t change anything.’
‘How can you calmly stand there and tell me this? How could you live with it? With him?’
‘Your father asked me to marry him and in those days we did what was expected of us. What else could I do? I was a spinster and didn’t want to be a burden on anyone, especially my only sister. Some of us did the honourable thing, Jarrod.’
‘You call any of it honourable? Honourable, my eye! What kind of man was he?’
Georgia heard Jarrod swear, using a word she’d never actually heard spoken, and she stepped anxiously towards the doorway.
‘Why didn’t he marry her in the first place? Wouldn’t that have been doing your so honourable thing?’ Jarrod asked hoarsely.
‘She didn’t love him.’
Jarrod swore again.
‘You must realise what sort o
f man your father was.’ Isabel’s voice was a sneer. ‘Your mother—’
‘Leave my mother out of this,’ Jarrod bit out with a quiet, potent anger that made Georgia hesitate again in the doorway.
Isabel gave an exclamation of disgust.
‘Why didn’t he tell me this, Isabel? Was he such a coward he had to opt out and leave it up to you to do his dirty work?’
‘He didn’t know. She didn’t tell him.’
‘She didn’t…? For pity’s sake, Isabel, why not?’
‘Who knows—?’
‘Why didn’t you do something about it?’ Jarrod broke in.
‘It was scarcely my place to tell tales.’
‘Tales!’ Exasperation was heavy in his tone. ‘Are you trying to tell me my father still doesn’t know?’
‘I didn’t say that, Jarrod. Perhaps he suspects. Look, must we go over and over it all? I’m only sorry I have to be the one to tell you.’ Her aunt’s tone had dropped, holding more emotion than Georgia had ever heard in her voice before.
‘I just bet you are!’ Jarrod grated rawly.
‘I simply thought you should know before—’ her aunt paused ‘-before things went too far.’
‘Too far?’ Jarrod’s voice broke on a hollow groan of such anguish that Georgia stepped into the hallway, but her aunt’s surprisingly provocative tone made her pause again as she was about to enter the living room.
‘Jarrod?’ Isabel appealed in a low, silky purr-another tone Georgia had never before heard in her aunt’s voice. ‘Look, this is best sorted out now, isn’t it? You can just tell her it’s over, that you’ve changed your mind. Georgia’s young. She’ll find someone else quickly enough.’
Georgia’s heartbeats accelerated in shock as the meaning of her aunt’s words hit her like a thunderbolt. Jarrod had changed his mind about her? But he couldn’t have. Could he?
‘Someone else?’ Jarrod repeated quietly.
‘Yes, someone else. And so will you. Why, any number of young women would jump at the chance. You’re attractive-’ Isabel continued confidently, and Jarrod cut in with a desolate laugh.
‘And this someone else I’m going to find…’ he jeered. ‘No doubt you’ll be putting yourself at the head of the line. Well, Isabel? Won’t you? You always have. Ever since I came back from college.’
Georgia stepped into the doorway as, in one stride, Jarrod was beside his stepmother. His arms reached out for her, dragged her to him, and to Georgia’s horror Jarrod began to kiss the older woman. When he released her they stood close together, as still as marble statues.
CHAPTER NINE
‘JARROD?’ Georgia’s eyes went to his tortured face. ‘Aunt Isabel? What-? I can’t-’ She swallowed convulsively. ‘Jarrod?’ Her voice broke and the pain in her chest made her clutch at the doorframe.
Isabel’s face seemed to turn a shade paler. But not as waxen as Jarrod’s.
‘Georgia,’ he said thinly, ‘how long have you been there?’
‘Really, Georgia.’ Isabel found her voice. ‘You had no right to skulk around listening to a private conversation.’
‘Didn’t she, Isabel?’ Jarrod retorted bitterly. ‘Hell! I need a drink.’
He crossed to the bar and leant over the top, jerkily grasping a bottle of Scotch and splashing some unsteadily into a glass, downing the liquid in one gulp. As Georgia and his stepmother watched him he stared broodingly into the empty tumbler, went to refill it and stopped. He set the bottle back on the bar with a thud before furiously throwing the glass against the bricks of the large open fireplace in the side-wall.
Georgia jumped as the shattering sound seemed to snap her out of her stricken immobility. Jarrod had kissed her aunt, his own stepmother.
‘Georgia, I think you should go home,’ her aunt said. ‘This isn’t the time. It’s a family affair.’
Georgia didn’t even glance at her; her eyes were on Jarrod. She watched a multitude of expressions cross his face, some so fleetingly that she was unable to put a name to them. But there was disbelief, hurt, and pain-deep, desolate pain-beneath his anger. Then all the fight seemed to go out of him, leaving his eyes empty of emotion.
‘A family affair?’ He regarded his stepmother levelly. ‘And Georgia isn’t family?’
‘Jarrod, don’t—’
‘No.’ He spoke flatly. ‘Leave us, Isabel. As you pointed out, Georgia and I have to talk.’
Isabel’s hand fluttered undecidedly to her throat. ‘Don’t you think it would be best to leave it until tomorrow?’ she suggested, but Jarrod shook his head.
‘No. Tonight. Leave us alone, Isabel.’
Still the older woman hesitated, and then, with lips set in a thin, disapproving line, she left the room. In the final, swift glance she afforded her niece Georgia was sure she saw a moment’s apprehension. But all Georgia’s attention returned to Jarrod, and the lengthening silence almost choked her as she held her breath, gazing bewilderedly at him.
She felt as though her whole world had shattered about her, falling into a million agonising pieces. Jarrod and her aunt?
He crossed the room towards her and she put out her hand as if to ward him off. But she needn’t have worried, for he stopped some distance from her, his strong jaw clenched.
‘Georgia, we have to talk. Sit down. Please.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything that has to be said,’ she got out flatly.
‘How much did you hear?’
‘Hear? I didn’t need to hear anything. What I saw was enough. I can’t believe you—’
‘Georgia, don’t’ He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. ‘There’s more to it than—’
It was her turn to bite off a desolate laugh. ‘I don’t see how there could be.’ Pain clutched at her, icy tentacles wrapping around her heart, squeezing, constricting. On leaden feet she shuffled backwards to a lounge chair, subsiding onto the edge of it, her back tensely straight, her hands clasped together to still their trembling. ‘How could you?’ she asked huskily. ‘How could you kiss Aunt Isabel like that?’
‘Georgia, please? I’m trying to tell you it wasn’t what you think—’
‘You said you loved me.’
‘I did. I do. But…’ He looked at her with uncharacteristic indecision before his expression suddenly hardened. ‘I have to go away,’ he said abruptly.
Georgia’s tongue-tip moistened her dry lips but no words came out.
‘I’m going to the States.’ His eyes met hers, only to slide immediately away. ‘I need to see my father.’
‘I thought he was in Hong Kong,’ Georgia said carefully.
‘He’s going on to the States. There’s something I want—I have to talk to him about.’
With a wave of despair Georgia put her hands over her mouth. If she didn’t get out of the room she’d be sick. Jarrod and her aunt? No! ‘Are you going to tell him about…about…tonight?’
‘No! I was going anyway,’ Jarrod was saying. ‘I was going to tell you. Something’s come up. There’s a problem over there.’ Still he didn’t look at her.
Her heart thumped inside her chest so loudly that it deafened her. She swallowed, feeling panic rising. He ran his hand discomposedly through his hair as he turned back to face her, his eyelashes falling to shield his expression. Then his jaw tensed and he seemed to draw himself up. ‘I may not come back. I might have to take over the North American subsidiary of the company.’
Feeling flowed back into her body and she flinched with pain. He couldn’t be saying this. He couldn’t. This couldn’t be happening. Not after all they’d been to each other. Were to each other.
Panic spread through her in pulsating waves. ‘Jarrod, how could you do this?’
‘Georgia, I’m sorry,’ he said flatly. ‘I never meant to hurt you.’
‘No!’ Georgia shook her head. ‘No more lies! I have to go.’ She stood up and her legs almost gave way beneath her.
Jarrod went to reach for her but she waved him away, couldn’t bear him
to touch her.
‘Georgia!’
‘No!’ Georgia yelled at him. ‘No! I hate you, Jarrod! I never believed I could hate anyone as much as I hate you at this moment. And hell will freeze over before I want to set eyes on you again. You or Aunt Isabel.’
A muscle near his mouth twitched edgily and he seemed to be having trouble relaxing the tension in his jaw. ‘Georgia, I’m truly sorry it has to end this way. But things aren’t the way they seem. God, I wonder if anything ever was,’ he added bitterly. ‘But, believe me, Georgia, I did love you.’
‘Love? You don’t know what the word means, Jarrod.’ Tears stung her eyes and the pain in her chest increased, making her feel sure her heart was breaking.
‘Oh, I know what it means,’ he said quietly, and she laughed.
‘You know what sex means and that’s totally different. Well, because of you I know what sex is too. And I know what love isn’t.’ She walked towards the door.
‘Georgia.’ He went to touch her shoulder and she angrily shrugged him off.
‘Don’t touch me.’ She hurled the vitriolic words at him. ‘How could you do this, Jarrod? How could you use me like a-like a body? Any body?’
‘I told you in the beginning we had to keep it light. I didn’t intend things to go so far but you—’
‘Oh! How gallant of you. So I led you on, forced you to make love to me.’ She held up one shaking hand. ‘No, I’ll rephrase that. I made you have sex with me.’
‘I didn’t mean…You’re very attractive, desirable…Georgia, you were willing and I’m just a man.’
‘No,’ she sneered, agony lashing her. ‘No, Jarrod, you’re not a man. You don’t know the meaning of that word either. You’ve got it all wrong. Real men don’t do what you’ve done, what you’re doing.’
His lips thinned and she suspected that her words had hurt him but she was beyond caring now. Inconceivable anguish engulfed her and she turned on her heel then and left him there, flying down the stairs, running through the darkness, unstoppable tears coursing down her face to blind her.
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