She watched Taj work, admiring his professionalism, the unruffled ease with which he handled the camera – and, of course his perfect behind. How could she not? He was bending down in front of her for Pete’s sake. She was only human.
It was at that moment that he stood up and caught her staring.
“I hope you’re not bored,” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Georgina was mortified. How awful to be caught perving, and even worse, his butt! She tried to appear nonchalant, “I’m okay. I’m thinking about the article I want to write.”
“Ah. Getting anywhere?”
“Yes, actually. I think I’m going to go for the ‘How Antarctica can change your life’, angle.”
He nodded, “Sounds like a good angle to me.”
She had sucked that out of her thumb, but come to think of it, it was a rather good angle, and she could talk from experience.
She followed him as he moved his camera and tripod a few metres along the cliff top, to a vantage point where you could see for miles across the azure bay.
“I’m going to take some shots here,” he told her, setting up again. “You want to try?”
“Sure,” she came closer and watched as he adjusted some settings. “I’m using a wider angle here, to capture the entire bay, and…” Georgina tried to pay attention, but being close to Taj Andrews was like being injected with an anti-concentration serum, she just couldn’t stay focused. Her eyes focused on the way his lips moved when he talked and she had to force herself to look away in case he thought she was coming on to him or something.
“Here, have a look through the telephoto,” he offered, moving aside.
She bend down and stared into the lens. She was amazed at how clear and close up everything was.
“I feel like I can almost reach out and touch that iceberg,” she murmured in awe.
“Why don’t take a picture of it?” he suggested.
“What? No I couldn’t.”
“Of course you can. Rest your finger on here,” he gently took her pointer finger and placed it on the shutter.
“Now hold it down gently, and you’ll see it focus. After a second, the green light comes on. That’s it. Then you press the button.”
He applied gentle force on her finger and she took the shot. “There, you have your photo. Easy, huh?”
She glanced up at him. “And all this time I thought you needed talent to do this?”
He shook his head, smiling. “No, any idiot can take a picture.”
She stood up, “Are you calling me an idiot?”
He pretended to think for a moment, during which she hit him playfully on the arm. Suddenly, without warning, he turned and grabbed her, pulling her gently towards him. She gazed up at him with a longing she couldn’t hide and as if in response to her silent consent, he leant forward and kissed her. She held him close for a moment as she enjoyed the feeling of his lips on hers. There was nothing awkward about the kiss, in fact it felt so right she snuggled in further. Then it was as if an explosion went off in her brain. What the hell was she doing? Abruptly she pulled away, breaking all contact.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered appalled. “I can’t do this.”
“I know.”
Taj released her. He threw back his head and took a deep breath. When he looked at her again he was perfectly composed, although his clenched fists belied his calm demeanour.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” she began, gazing at him helplessly.
He shook his head.
“It was my fault,” he acknowledged. “I apologise, it won’t happen again.”
Despite his apology, he didn’t look at all fazed by the fact that he’d just kissed an engaged woman. Georgina only wished she could be half as unaffected.
Kissing Taj had quite literally knocked the socks off her. It had been a mistake, a terrible faux pax but at the same time she could not help but compare him to Charles. Dear Charles who had always been her pillar of strength, was helpless to defend himself against the seductive onslaught of the ‘rebel’ photographer himself. She had to be realistic about this. How could anyone compare to Taj? In the looks department he was by far the most attractive man she’d ever met. Not suave like most of the male models she met in her job, but rugged and raw in a way that made any red-blooded woman want to at least attempt to tame him, and if they couldn’t then to thoroughly enjoy trying. Guilt filled her senses. There must be something wrong with her. Engaged women did not throw themselves into another man’s arms, even if those arms did belong in Men’s Health magazine. She sighed heavily. Okay, she was not going to make a big deal out of this. She was a professional and she still had to write a piece on the guy. She could not afford to scare him off by over reacting. Things had been going so well. Oh, why had he decided to kiss her?
“Let’s forget about it, shall we?” she suggested, trying to act nonchalant. She even managed a wry smile, “We can put it down to one of those moments of insanity you were talking about.”
He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes told her that brief kiss had meant more to him than he let on. “Fine with me.”
She nodded, “Great,” and after a pause added, “I hope that photo we took was okay.”
“We can look at it on my laptop when we get back to the Explorer,” he told her. “I view all my photo’s before I develop them, that way.”
To toss out the ones that don’t work, she finished in her head. Was that how he treated the women that didn’t work for him too? She felt ashamed at the thought. She vowed to stop thinking about Taj and to pull herself together and concentrate on her cover story, as well as the other article she was keen to begin. But it was difficult when the man she was trying so desperately to ignore was striding up the path ahead of her, camera bag slung over his shoulder, emitting all the strength and grace of a Greek god. They continued in that vein for about ten minutes, when they spotted Max and his assistant prancing around in the snow close to where they’d left them on the first leg of the hike.
“Hey ya’ll, come on over here,” Max shouted, beckoning to them as they walked passed.
“I wonder what he wants,” she murmured to Taj who’d stopped on the path. “Let’s go find out,” said Taj, breaking off the path and heading in their direction. Georgina hesitated for a reason she couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was the smug look on Max’s face, or the way Darryl was watching her, like an eagle watched a mouse it was about to swoop down and devour. Sighing, she followed Taj, crunching through the snow.
“What’s up guys?”
Georgina came to a stop next to Taj.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, little lady,” said Max, handing Georgina a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” asked Taj, peering over Georgina’s shoulder.
“It’s a script,” answered Georgina, looking up at Max. “What do you want me to do with this?”
“Come now darlin’, I told you I’d get you in front of a camera, didn’t I?”
“What are you up to Max?” asked Taj, then glancing at Georgina, “You okay with this?”
She sighed, “I suppose so. Oh Max, I told you I wasn’t interested.”
“I’m from Texas honey, there we don’t take no for an answer. Tell me you’ll do it?”
Georgina stared at the script.
Taj was watching her, “It’s up to you, George.”
Eventually she nodded. “Okay Max, I’ll do it, but just this once.”
“Yeah!” he yelled. “Darryl, set up the camera. Do you need a minute honey, to read through it?”
“Of course I need a minute,” she replied slightly irritated. “This script is a page long.”
After a second she groaned, “I’m never going to remember this.”
Taj shrugged, “So make it up, it won’t matter.”
She read through the script. “Fluffy white snow? Who wrote this, it’s awful.”
“Sorry,” muttered a shame-faced Darryl. Max burst out laughing. “I didn’t hire Darr
yl for his writing ability. That’s your speciality my dear, so feel free to ad lib.”
“Great, more pressure,” she murmured to an amused Taj.
“I need a moment,” Georgina said and walked a couple of metres away to try and concentrate on what she was going to say. Ten minutes later and Max was positioning her in front of the camera.
“Just act natural,” he told her, handing her an enormous padded microphone.
“I don’t know how else to act,” she replied, trying to relax.
“You ready?” called Max. She nodded.
“Three, two, one,” called out Darryl, “And action!”
Georgina stared into the camera and froze. Her mind went blank. She blinked and then blurted out, “Sorry, I told you I’d be awful at this.”
“You look great on camera,” said Max, “Let’s try again.”
Darryl went through the three, two, one rundown again and this time when he called, ‘action’, Georgina took a deep breath and began to speak.
“I’m standing next to an ancient glacier at Paradise Bay, deep within the Antarctic Peninsular, surrounded only by penguins and the occasional seal and it is the most beautiful place I have ever seen,” she began. In the corner of her eye she saw Taj watching her intently, an unreadable expression on his face. She went on to explain what a diverse environment Antarctica was, and how some species that lived here could be found nowhere else on earth.
“Like the Antarctic amphipod, for example,” she smiled into the camera. “This tiny crustacean exists a hundred feet underwater and is so rare, that marine biologists from all over the world travel here to take a look at it.”
No one interrupted her, or told her to stop, so she carried on talking. When she got to the bit about the water temperature she glanced at Taj, “And to demonstrate how important it is to keep warm in temperatures of this kind, we have our resident expert, Mr. Taj Andrews,” and she held the microphone out to him.
“Very funny, George,” he drawled, but he looked pleased.
“Is that enough?” she pleaded, handing the microphone back to Darryl. She was out of things to say anyway.
Max moved out from behind the camera and clapped his hands ecstatically. “I knew it,” he said happily. “You were wonderful.”
“Was I really?” She glanced at Taj who looked thoughtful.
“You’ve rendered him speechless,” joked Max, winking at her.
“Max’s right, you are a natural,” said Taj, his eyes bright with something that looked like pride. “Was all that in the script?”
“Actually, none of it was. I made it all up,” she admitted.
He laughed.
“Did I make any sense at all?” she grimaced.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank God for that. I can’t remember a thing.”
Max slapped Darryl on the back. “Let’s pack up and get back,” he said. “I want to see this on the edit suite.”
“We’ll walk with you,” said Taj and after Darryl had zipped up their equipment, they all set off down the slippery path back to the beach.
CHAPTER NINE
Taj was an expert at hiding his feelings. He’d learnt from a young age that it was pointless saying how he felt, because the housemasters at the boarding school didn’t care and his father was too busy to listen. Consequently he’d discovered how to keep them buried deep within himself so only his closest friends knew when he was angry or upset. Don, unfortunately was one of those friends.
“I thought I’d find you here,” said Don, taking a seat next to Taj in the bar.
“Can’t a man get any privacy around here,” growled Taj.
“No, afraid not,” retorted Don. “I hate to remind you, but we’re on a research ship. There are forty passengers, twenty-six cabins and one bar. No privacy.”
“In that case I’ll have another drink,” he summoned the barman.
“Make it two,” said Don.
After they got their drinks Don asked, “How was your hike? I noticed you and George break away from the group. Doing a little freelancing, are we?”
Taj glared at him. “She’s an engaged woman, Don, which means she’s unavailable.”
“And I’m willing to bet that’s exactly what’s got you so worked up.”
He sighed, “Leave it alone, Don.”
Don grinned, “Yes, but can you leave her alone? She’s a beautiful woman, Taj. Hard to ignore.”
“You’re not helping.” Taj took a gulp of his whiskey.
“Can I ask a personal question?” asked Don.
“No.”
“Has anything happened between you two? I didn’t see George around tonight after dinner.”
“She’s gone to call her fiancé, if you must know, and no, nothing happened,” he said softly.
Don wasn’t fooled. “Liar, but okay. So how does she feel about you?”
Taj ran an agitated hand threw his hair.
“She’s about to marry the publisher. How do you think she feels?”
Don shrugged. “Confused? Undecided? Now that she’s met you she realises what a terrible mistake she’s made.”
Even Taj had to smile. “Give me a break.”
“Perhaps she’s calling off the engagement even as we speak,” said Don brightly.
“I doubt it. She wouldn’t have got engaged to the guy if she didn’t love him.”
“How do you know?” asked Don. “People get married for all kinds of reasons. Money, security, protection.”
“Love,” finished off Taj significantly.
Don threw his hands in the air, “Yes, there is that too.”
They paused long enough to each take a sip of their drinks.
“Maybe she’s falling in love with you,” commented Don idly, tracing a finger around the rim of his glass.
“No, she’s not,” said Taj firmly. “I’m the last person in the world she would want to end up with.”
Don raised a brow, “And why is that? You don’t smell. You don’t have any annoying bad habits, or not that I can remember anyway and I’ve known you a long time.”
Taj bowed his head, “Do we really have to go into this?”
“No, I could go to bed and leave you to wallow in self-pity all night, but unfortunately for me, I’m too loyal a friend for that.”
Taj gave in.
“Okay, if you must know, she wants stability. That’s the most important thing to her.”
“So what’s the problem? You’re stable.”
“Physically, you idiot. Not mentally.”
Don laughed and Taj was grateful to him for lightening the mood. “I don’t even remember what my lounge looks like I’m away so often and I leave more personal belongings in hotel bathrooms than I have in my own bathroom. You get the picture?”
“Ah, so not very conducive to a successful relationship then?”
Taj nodded once.
“Now you’re beginning to understand the problem. Even if I were to make a play for her, I couldn’t offer her what she needs. It’s an impossible situation. Not to mention the fact she lives on a different continent.”
Don patted him on the back, “The London thing is purely a matter of logistics and the least of your problems. Your nomadic lifestyle, however, that’s a tough one.”
Seeing his friend’s shoulders sag, he elaborated, “Not insurmountable, however, but definitely challenging.”
“I’ve seen enough girlfriends walk out the door because of it,” he said dryly. “I would say it’s a bit more than challenging.”
“Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Taj nodded and the barman, picking up on their sombre mood, refilled their glasses without being asked.
They drank in compatible silence for while until Don muttered, “You never know. Sometimes love can conquer all.”
Taj stifled a laugh, “Yeah, right, Cupid.”
Soon after that Don left the bar and retreated to his cabin. Rounding
the final corner he saw Georgina opening her door.
“Hey George,” he called. She turned around.
“Where were you tonight? We missed you in the bar.”
She looked pale and tired. Perhaps the conversation with her fiancé hadn’t gone too well. One could only hope. “You okay?”
“Just tired,” she smiled. “I’ve been working on my story all evening.”
“I heard you did a trial shoot for Max Copeland today. He was singing your praises in the bar tonight.”
She grimaced. “It really wasn’t that spectacular. In fact I was so startled when they yelled ‘Action’ that I forgot all my words.”
Don chuckled. “Even the pros get stage fright,” he said kindly. “You off to bed?”
“I think so. I’m pretty tired. You?”
“Definitely. Taj has been chewing my ear off in the bar. He seems a little out of sorts.”
“Oh really?” she said, trying to act disinterested. “How come?”
“I’m not sure. I tried to get it out of him, but he wouldn’t say.”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment and Don took the opportunity to push the dagger home. “He’s still there if you want to say hello.”
Georgina’s eyes narrowed as she tried to work out if she was being set up or not, but he didn’t give her time to think. “See you in the morning, George,” he sang merrily and without looking at her again, sauntered down the hall to his cabin.
Georgina lingered in the passage for a full five minutes while she tried decide whether to go and talk to Taj or not. She wasn’t really in the mood, having just had the most dreadful conversation with Charles. First he’d asked her why she was calling him again so soon, which she took offence to, seeing as he was her fiancé and it was only normal she should be missing him. Quite clearly he wasn’t feeling the same emotions. Now that she thought about it, had Charles ever expressed any kind of emotion other than mild irritation or annoyance? He never got cross, she’d never even heard him raise his voice. He didn’t scream or shout or stamp his feet, nor did he give in to side-splitting laughter. He was so controlled it was frightening. Even when he’d proposed it had been like he was addressing his board of directors. What scared her most was how she’d thought that was what she loved about him. To her it had symbolised a secure, reliable man who would make a stable and loving husband. Someone she could depend on to always be there for her, unlike her mother.
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