The Protea Boys (17 page)

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 opened 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 grass 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.

“I’m just not cut out for the job, mate. I can’t work for a woman, two women. Double trouble.”

Matt laughed. “Double trouble. They sure are.”

Tom nodded in agreement. Maybe he wouldn’t have to explain. A couple more beers and no one would need to explain anything.

“We’ll miss you, mate, but I guess we can do the job without you, and you stand to make a packet if you head over to WA.”

Making money was the least of Tom’s worries. Funny how it made a difference when you didn’t have to make a buck. “Since I haven’t told Georgie and Hillary about my plans yet, I’d appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut. I’ll head up there tomorrow morning, so you guys take off without me.” Tomorrow morning he’d go and see Georgie. He wasn’t driving anywhere after the beers. He’d tell her he was leaving, hand in his notice. He owed her at least that much.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next morning, Tom adjusted the rearview mirror, pulled on his sunglasses, and drew a long, deep breath, willing his pounding headache to settle. Not just his head. His body ached, and his eyes refused to focus. Never, never again would he go anywhere near a beer. The last thing he wanted to do was to face Georgie with his head feeling like a blacksmith’s shop. He twisted the key in the ignition, slammed the car into gear, and headed up the hill. He had to apologize and make her understand it had all been a mistake. They’d both been caught up in the adrenaline rush of the fire and the stress of getting her safely off the ridge and they had fallen into each other’s arms. Comfort, solace, all those words.

Thank God it had only gone that far, and he didn’t have to face a coffin or the look on anyone’s face when he explained what he’d done. The knowledge he hadn’t measured up, that he’d failed, cut deep. And he’d almost done it all over again. He hadn’t been there for Georgie when she needed him, and then he’d got lost in the promise of her warm body—hardly a great way to protect her or anyone else for that matter.

Tom pushed down a shaft of disappointment when he pulled up to the shed. It was the last time he’d drive up to her protea farm. There were a lot of things he’d planned to get done around the place; the irrigation system still wasn’t up to scratch. But hell, what was the matter with him? She could certainly afford to get it done if she’d scored the payout from G & G Martin, and Matt was just as capable as he was.

***

Georgie bit the inside of her lip. For two days she’d been waiting, her ears straining for the sound of his wheels on the driveway. The fire danger had passed, but the mopping up was taking time, with the odd spot fire breaking out here and there in the National Park. Finally, the boys had arrived for work. Matt had collected their worksheet, but there’d been no sign of Tom. Matt had said Tom had something else to do, but he’d be up later. Well, it was later now, and where the hell was he? Putting it off, she guessed. With the speed he had bundled himself out of the house the morning after the fire, he obviously didn’t want to spend any time with her. Another mistake to chalk up to experience. All of which made her jump with surprise when she saw Tom’s black four-wheel drive pull up the driveway.

From the window, the distance between them seemed huge, as though she were peering through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars, but she could tell from the set of his shoulders and the length of his stride that he was a man with a mission. He obviously had something to say.

An uncontrollable longing whispered through her, but she pushed it down in favor of the anger she had been nursing for the last two days. She hated him for making her feel this way. Needy, wanting, dependent. Dale had made her feel like that when he’d told her he was going back to his ex-wife. As though she had no right to expect anything from him. As though the three years of their relationship meant nothing.