The Protea Boys

by Téa Cooper

Georgie groaned, her frustration mounting as he reached to the ground for his jeans and pulled a foil packet from his pocket.

  “We need this.”

  “Are you always so well prepared?” She smothered a laugh and stared, fascinated, while he ripped the foil with his teeth and rolled it over his length, and then she sighed in relief when he returned to her, his raw, hot need etched on his beautiful face.

  Grabbing his shoulders, she moved under him, straining in her impatience and brushing provocatively against him until she could wait no longer, and she dragged his hard body down between her aching thighs.

  “Slow down, darling, slow down.”

  “I can’t. I’ve dreamed about it too many times. Make it real.” Her whispered words dampened the skin on his neck, and he nudged her moist, inflamed entrance. Impatient with her need, she pushed down onto him, her muscles tensing and relaxing until he filled her.

  Chapter Twenty-

  Three

  Every nerve ending shrieked as he thrust deeper. Her muscles contracted around him, and she drew him into her. The sharp peaks of her nipples rasped against his chest, and her breath came in hot, damp gasps against his neck. A deep, sharp stab of lust seared through him, her muffled cries intensifying his passion. Her fingers scored his back and slid to his buttocks, enticing him deeper into her, and then she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, and he plunged farther, unable to control the frantic rhythm of his body. Their lips met, and he swallowed her cries, until their bodies shuddered and peaked together, sealing the well of loneliness deep inside him.

  Sated, he lay in the total calmness, his face pressed to her shoulder, her tangled locks caressing his face until she stirred below him, and he rolled aside, relieving her of his weight.

  Her eyes flickered open instantly, questioning. He forced his ragged breathing to still, and her indolent smile wrapped around him. Tom pulled her into the cradle of his arms, relaxing, knowing she was safe.

  He trailed a finger down her cheekbone, the tracks of her earlier tears still visible, and brushed her tangled hair away from her face.

  “Why the long face? Did I disappoint you?” The freckles on her nose danced as she wrinkled it, highlighting the smug grin on her face.

  Had she disappointed him? No. No way. But he had disappointed himself.

  “You went through a lot today, Georgie. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your susceptibility.”

  “Tom. You’re making me sound like a nineteenth-century virgin. You didn’t take advantage of me. In case you didn’t notice, I wanted it as much, if not more, than you did.” Her giggle punctuated her words, but he couldn’t shake his concern. “It was wonderful, Tom, and please don’t imagine I can’t look after myself, because I can. You don’t have to take responsibility for me,” she said, drawing lazy patterns on his chest with her fingers.

  “I need you to be safe. You’re too precious. I want you to have everything you deserve. What we shared tonight was beautiful, but I can’t expect you to shoulder my problems. I’m not what you need.”

  “You’re everything I need.” Her muffled words warmed his chest, and she yawned against him as she snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. Her pulled her tightly against him, and her eyes fluttered shut as the gray-brown dawn started to light the sky.

  For a long time, he lay quiet and still, relishing the role of protector, guarding her as she slept. To know she was safe and content was all he wanted, but what had happened between them was a mistake. It couldn’t happen again. He had no right, none at all. An image of them sleeping like this every night sprang into his mind, and he pushed it back. No way. It couldn’t happen. What Georgie needed was a nice, gentle guy, happy to give her everything she deserved in the world, not some broken-down, irresponsible hack who couldn’t even take care of his little sister.

  It was better for her to believe he wasn’t interested in her, didn’t want her, than for him to stay and slack off and not live up to her expectations and cause her harm. Now he’d really mucked everything up. He should never have taken the job in the first place, never become involved in the farm, and never, never made love to her. They were supposed to have a friendship and nothing more. That’s what they had agreed.

  Scrubbing his hands over his face, he eased himself off the bed and looked down at her sleeping so peacefully. With infinite care, he covered her with the rumpled duvet. He slipped silently into his jeans and T-shirt, his nose wrinkling at the stale odor of sweat and fire, and left her to sleep. He needed to get out of her way, and out of her life. His hands opened and closed as he looked down at her sleeping face, a huge part of him just wanting to crawl back into bed with her and nuzzle her awake, but his sense of responsibility won. It was better to leave and leave while he still had control.

  Tom moved silently as a cat out of the door and onto the veranda. Head down, hands thrust deep in his pockets, he crossed the paddock back to his Ute and drove away, trying to ignore the very real pain slicing his chest.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Georgie fought the sunlight blasting against her face, wiped her hand across her hot and sticky skin, and opened her eyes. She threw back the duvet and stared at her scratched and aching, stark-naked body...and then the memories came flooding back. Every detail flashing through her mind in brilliant clarity, from her tumultuous fall off the ridge top to the look on Tom’s face before she fell asleep. She stretched and smiled, ignoring the burning in her muscles and the throbbing bruises, knowing at least this time she hadn’t fallen victim to another of her mad dreams. This time it had been real. They’d made love, not under the swaying acacia trees, but right here in her bed. A warm swirl kicked her stomach; they’d certainly unpacked his baggage and a whole lot more. She giggled and rolled over onto her stomach, wriggling languorously. In fact, she wouldn’t mind repeating the process—just to make sure they hadn’t left any baggage behind, of course.

  The giggle caught in her throat, and she rolled back and stretched out, her arm patting the other side of the bed, but she found only the tangled duvet and bunched pillows. Sitting up, she pushed back her hair, stretched again, and swung her feet carefully off the side of the bed.

  “Tom.” She cleared her throat, still raspy and uncomfortably dry from the smoke and passion of last night. “Tom?”

  The silence hummed, and a flicker of foreboding washed over her. Surely he hadn’t left? She scrambled up and pulled a towel from the en suite, wrapping it around like a sarong as she checked the shower. “Tom?”

  She stuck her head out of the open door and looked up and down the corridor, but the silence of the house answered her question. Padding through to the kitchen, she looked out onto the veranda. The sofa was as she remembered from last night, the imprint of their bodies still visible in the soft cushions and the quilt draped carelessly over the arm. Hurrying to the window, she squinted toward the shadows next to the shed. No sign of his car, just the truck and the empty space where the quad bike used to sit.

  He’d left. Left without waking her. Left without saying good-bye. She lifted her hand to her chest and rubbed the uncomfortable lump caught there. He wouldn’t. Not after last night, not after they’d made love.

  Georgie stopped dead. Had they made love, or had she just thrown herself at him and he’d grasped what she’d offered? Color flooded her face. She must have been out of her mind or suffering from shock to have given in to temptation. What was the matter with her? In those blinding moments of passion, she had forgotten the lesson she was supposed to have learned from Dale. Trust no one. Just like before, she had let down her guard, and all she had left was her empty bed and her foolishness.

  Shivering, she pulled the towel tighter around her, trying to ward off the frigid feeling seeping from deep inside, making her skin pucker with goose bumps. He’d even come prepared with a condom in his back pocket, and now he’d gone. Left.

  What a fool.

  Her strangled cry reverberated around the empty house, and then she o
pened her mouth and howled. Tears streamed down her face as the agony of knowing she had done the one thing she had promised herself she would never do again merged with the terror of yesterday. She let the pain leech out of her. How could she have been so stupid? She was a fool. He’d warned her last night he was a liability, but she had ignored it, thought it was just his insecurities speaking. She had arrogantly believed she could heal his pain and hers at the same time. She’d fallen prey to his leopard eyes and overgrown six-pack, all fueled by her unexercised hormones and too many rampant dreams. She had offered herself body and soul, and he had taken it, every tiny little bit of it, then up and left. Just like before, just like Dale. She howled louder, reveling in the fact there was no one to hear her.

  Exhausted and purged, Georgie dragged herself out of her crumpled heap, nothing left but a hollow calm and emptiness. There was no way she was going to let Tom or anyone else know how much he had hurt her or how deeply she wanted the comfort of his arms and the feel of his body against hers. But she wasn’t going to spoil the business she and Hillary had created, not like last time. She’d been down this road before.

  She had sold G & G Martin to the opposition because she couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Dale every day of her working life once he had chosen to return to his wife. When she had finally recognized the fact that Dale had used her as a stepping-stone to the top job, she wanted no more of it. She had fallen for his charm, his promises, and his lies. He had never had any intention of giving up his wife and making a life with her. It had all been an elaborate sham, founded in his ambition. By selling the company, she had managed to have the last say. Dale could hardly fulfill the role of CEO in a company that no longer existed, but it was cold comfort. A mistake she wouldn’t make again no matter how much it hurt. Last time she’d given it all up because of her foolish misplaced infatuation. Not this time. She dragged herself up into a sitting position and embraced her anger as it filled the hollow emptiness in her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tom slammed the cellar door open, angry, not with Georgie, but with himself. His behavior last night was a disgrace. The sight of her laying there on the bed, the ridiculous scraps of pale pink lace offsetting her flawless skin and the purple of her eyes, had been the final straw, and he had lost control. His body kicked at the memory, and he heaved the cartons of wine onto the bench. He had sworn he would never lose control again, never let his emotions detract him from his responsibilities.

  Having banged the door closed, he ripped open the boxes and stacked the bottles in the empty wine racks. “Jane. I’m sorry. I didn’t keep my promise.” What he wouldn’t give for her to be standing there in front of him, her cheeky grin lighting her face, her eyes dancing. But it would never happen again because he had been too busy in the bedroom to hear her phone call. And then last night, all his promises, all the lessons he had learned, had just been forgotten in the heat of his passion. What if the wind had picked up? What if the bushfire hadn’t changed direction? Would Georgie now lie charred, blackened, and shattered under some ambulance blanket? He shook his head in disgust. He didn’t deserve any woman’s love, not when all he could offer them in return was failure and broken promises. He was a liability she was better off without. She deserved a real man and a real marriage and kids and someone who could look after her.

  It was time he packed up his swag and checked out the job on offer WA, away from temptation and away from responsibilities he couldn’t fulfill. Engines and machines, not breathing, warm, affectionate, caring... His groan bounced off the old cellar walls.

  Shaking his head in disgust, he stacked the last of the bottles into the cellar, calling out to his brother, “Nick, I’m going down to the Inn to pick up the rest of the wine. I’ll be back.”

  ***

  The moment he elbowed open the Inn door Matt yelled, “Hey! Tom.”

  He ground to a halt and pushed down the flare of annoyance. He didn’t feel like talking. Why couldn’t the rest of the world ignore him? Taking a deep breath, he bunged on a halfhearted smile.

  “Matt. How’s it going? Still got your yellows on? I thought the cleanup would be over by now.” He couldn’t contain his dismissive shrug as Matt laid a hand across his shoulders. The reek of smoke that hung around Matt and the sight of his yellow bushfire uniform simply increased his feelings of inadequacy.

  “Yeah. It’s done. We’ve finished the mop-up; there are still a couple of crews out making sure nothing flares up. The rest of us have been cleaning up the gear, servicing the trucks. It’ll be good to get a decent shower and get back to normal.”

  Tom grunted and leaned across the bar and nodded to the barman. “Can I have the cases of wine for Nick’s? He said six dozen were dropped off here yesterday.”

  “Yeah, mate. They’re on the trolley round the back, just pick them up when you’re ready.”

  “And two beers please, mate,” Matt interrupted.

  “No, not for me, Matt, I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “Aw, come on. We’re back at work tomorrow, let’s make the most of it.”

  “I won’t be working tomorrow, Matt. You and Gap and Jim will have to handle it.” He took the two schooners off the bar and handed one to Matt, absorbing his raised eyebrows and the unspoken question. “I’m packing it in. Heading over to WA. Picking up a job in the mines there.”

  “Cheers.” Matt downed a healthy mouthful of beer, peering at Tom over the rim of his glass. “Right. Well.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

  “All good things end. I’ve been marking time, waiting for something to come up, and Nick’s all sorted out now. If I hang around much longer, he’ll have me working as a chef. Wine waiter’s bad enough.” He forced out a bark of laughter. It rang of insincerity, but he doubted Matt would notice.

  “What do Hill and Georgie say?”

  The beer tasted sour in his mouth, but he swallowed it down. “Haven’t told them yet. I’m planning on going up there after I’ve sorted this wine for Nick.”

  “Hmm.” Matt ran his finger along the timber of the bar and then looked up. “Is Georgie all right? There wasn’t a problem with us heading off to the fire, was there? We didn’t call her. Thought you’d tell her when you got back.”

  “No. No problem with you guys, but she’d put the quad over the ridge, and I had to winch her out.”

  “You what?” The thump echoed as Matt dropped his glass back on the bar. “Two more please, mate,” he called to the bartender.

  “No, not for me, thanks.”

  “You’re not getting away with it so easily. What happened? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. At least she was the last time I saw her,” he added as an afterthought, trying to push away the memory of her lying warm and naked on the bed, hair fanned across the pillow. Lips moist. He shook his head and heaved a sigh.

  “Cheers.” Matt slid another full schooner across the bar.

  “Cheers.” The beer had lost its sour taste, and he knocked it back, his mouth suddenly dry. The silence hung as Matt stared at him across the rim of his glass. Turning around and leaning both elbows on the bar behind him, he stared across the room at the empty fireplace and the ancient photographs of logging trucks. He cleared his throat. There was no way Matt was going to take no for an answer.

  “When I got back, she’d fixed everything up, cleared the gutters, sealed the house, done all the right things.”

  “She’s good like that. Knows what she’s doing.”

  Tom nodded. If he stopped talking, he’d never spit it out. “I went down to the shed, and the quad had gone and the jerry cans, so I presumed she’d taken them down to prime the diesel pump in case she needed water.” His stomach lurched as he relived his horror, the heavy pall of smoke hanging over the dam, and the all-encompassing feeling of dread.

  “And?” Matt prompted him.

  “And she wasn’t there. So I followed her tracks, and she’d gone up to the ridge. She’d asked me to slash the g
rass up on the firebreak, but I hadn’t got around to it.”

  Matt’s groan interrupted him.

  “She’d missed the edge in the long grass and gone straight over the top.”

  “Shit.” Matt’s simple expletive summed it up. Shit. He was shit.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching the top of his head. “Yeah. Well, it was bloody lucky. She’d been thrown clear as the quad had gone over, and a bunch of tree roots had broken her fall. Once I’d got my car, I managed to winch her up. The ground was pretty unstable, so I couldn’t climb down.”

  “And she hadn’t broken anything? Jeez. She was lucky.”

  “There was nothing lucky about it. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so bloody inefficient.”

  “Mate. It wasn’t your fault. She didn’t have to go up there. Same as she didn’t have to fix the diesel. She’s just impatient. And accident-prone,” Matt added.

  “She wasn’t impatient. It was just as well I got back there because there were spot fires around the house, and we were only saved by the wind change. Had to shelter in the dam. What would have happened if the wind hadn’t changed? The fire would’ve come racing up there, and the whole place would’ve gone up.”

  Matt’s silence said it all. It was his fault. He didn’t need to be around. Georgie needed to know where she stood. Not have false expectations. And he needed to get the hell out of her life. The last thing she wanted was a useless liability hanging around who couldn’t take responsibility for anything or anyone. Once was bad enough, but to make the same mistake twice was ridiculous. If he told her the real reason he hadn’t been there for his sister, she’d realize. She’d be horrified and disgusted, but it should at least make it clear to her he wasn’t the sort of person she wanted to be around.

  “The next one’s on me.” Tom pushed the empty glasses across the bar.

  “I don’t see why you have to shove off though.”

  Tom’s really didn’t want to have to explain to Matt how he’d frozen and behaved like a cowering fool when the fire had passed over. That he couldn’t do fire and he was an irresponsible jerk. It was none of Matt’s business.