Close Relations Read online

  Georgia raised her eyebrows and he coughed nervously. ‘Jarrod’s coming over. He can drive us down to collect Morgan.’

  Georgia froze. She felt as though she’d been transformed into stone. And then she turned her head slowly to face her brother. ‘Why is he…?’ Her voice faltered and died.

  ‘Why wouldn’t he, Georgia?’ Lockie asked quietly, his gaze holding hers. ‘He’s my best friend and he’s just returned from the States.’

  Georgia fought gallantly to pull herself together as she continued to gaze at her brother. And it was taking more than a little effort to still her galloping pulse, to dislodge the breath that had caught somewhere in her chest.

  ‘Jarrod hasn’t seen you yet,’ Lockie continued, ‘and when I told him you’d be home after nine-thirty he said he’d drop by.’

  ‘I see.’ Georgia took a calming breath. ‘And I don’t suppose it occurred to you that I might not want to see him.’

  ‘You can’t live in the past, sis. Four years is a long time, and besides, you’ll have to face him some time.’

  Four years ago she’d told him hell would freeze over before she’d want to set eyes on him again.

  ‘He’s changed a bit,’ Lockie was saying. ‘He looks older.’ He smiled a little awkwardly. ‘I told him he was getting quite long in the tooth.’

  At that moment they both heard the sound of a car pulling up on the gravel verge in front of the house.

  She couldn’t face him! You’ve had four years to recover from his duplicity, a cruel voice reminded her, and she drew a shallow breath.

  ‘Here he is now.’ Lockie stated the obvious and his long fingers gently squeezed her arm. ‘And, as I said, what’s past is past. It is, isn’t it, Georgia?’

  She nodded resignedly. If only that were true. ‘I suppose it is,’ she agreed. ‘And we do have to get Morgan. It’s lucky he…Jarrod…’ the name almost stuck in her throat ‘…was coming over,’ she finished breathily.

  Jarrod. There, she’d said his name. For the first time in four years she’d said his name, the sound of it so foreign…and yet so achingly, so hauntingly well-known.

  Well-known? She almost laughed out loud. Well-known in what sense? In every sense, she told herself ruthlessly. How could she forget his name? Or him? Jarrod. Jarrod Peter Maclean. Uncle Peter Maclean’s only son.

  ‘Georgia?’ Lockie touched her arm again and she blinked, coming back to the present with a jolt.

  ‘Yes. We should go,’ she said softly, and moved into the hallway.

  ‘Right.’ Lockie sounded relieved and headed towards the open front door as a tall figure was taking the steps two at a time with long-legged ease.

  ‘Hi, Lockie.’ He smiled a greeting, unaware of Georgia standing like a statue behind her brother.

  She made herself move, face him, and her entire body remained numb for just a few seconds. And then it seemed to take on a life of its own.

  Her heartbeats accelerated, sending heated blood rushing through her veins. Her hands wanted to reach out to him, to follow the hard lines of his strong jaw, feel the smoothness of his freshly shaved cheek. And her lips longed to taste his again.

  With no little effort she pulled her wayward thoughts away from their traitorous yearnings and made herself meet his gaze.

  His blue eyes looked black in the dim light yet Georgia was sure she saw them flicker with the same awareness she knew she felt at the sight of him, and she quelled a moment’s heady delight.

  ‘Hello, Georgia,’ he said evenly. ‘I’m sorry to be calling at this hour but Lockie said you were working late tonight. Until now I’ve always seemed to miss you.’

  ‘And as it turns out it’s lucky you did turn up.’ Lockie broke into the heavy atmosphere that seemed to Georgia to be pressing in on them as they stood on the wide veranda. ‘Do you think you could run us down to Oxley? We’ve just had a frantic call from Morgan and she wants us to bring her home.’

  ‘Sure.’ Jarrod drew his gaze from Georgia and turned back to Lockie. ‘What’s the problem?’

  ‘Morgan. She’s one big problem—’ Lockie began.

  ‘And we’d better be going. I did tell Morgan we’d be there in half an hour.’ Georgia took a stiff step forward. “That is, if you wouldn’t mind, Jarrod. We could get a taxi.’

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ he said easily as he turned to retrace his steps.

  They were almost down the wide front steps when Lockie stopped. ‘I’d better leave a note on the door for Andy just in case he drops the van back before we return. I won’t be a moment.’ He returned to the house.

  And Georgia could only continue on alone with Jarrod. Down the path. To the car.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JARROD was using one of the company station wagons, ‘Maclean Constructions’ emblazoned on the side, and he reached around to open the front passenger door for her.

  Georgia’s nerve-endings were jangling and her stomach churned. She could barely stand, let alone move to get into the car. So she stood there, and after a tense moment of interminable length Jarrod seemed to relax, leaning back, one arm resting along the top of the door.

  ‘Lockie tells me your father’s up the coast. How is he these days?’

  ‘You mean, is he drinking?’ The words were out before she could draw them back and she sensed the tightening of Jarrod’s lips in the darkness.

  ‘No, I wasn’t asking that,’ he said levelly. ‘Peter told me your father hasn’t touched alcohol for years.’

  For four years, Georgia wanted to tell him, but she had herself under control again. ‘He’s keeping fairly well,’ she said just as evenly. ‘He’s working on a house up there, renovating. He probably won’t be back for a month or so.’

  ‘Does he get plenty of work?’

  Did they really care? Jarrod or his father? They’d certainly got rid of him from Maclean’s pretty quickly when he’d started drinking after Georgia’s mother had died seven years ago. No, that was unfair; Georgia acknowledged the critical voice inside her. It had been her father’s choice after his wife’s death to leave the engineering firm owned by his brother-inlaw. But neither of the Macleans had tried to stop him.

  ‘He gets enough to keep him going,’ she said aloud.

  That same tension rose again, surging out of the darkness to engulf them, and Georgia’s mouth went suddenly dry. Did he remember the nights they’d spent together, the long talks, the drugging kisses, the way their bodies had moved as one to music only they could hear?

  Her senses quivered anew, sending an arrow of pure desire hurtling through her heart. Was Jarrod feeling the same almost overwhelming temptation to reach out to her the way she wanted to reach out to him? Georgia swallowed a low moan before it escaped and she swayed slightly just as Jarrod moved.

  His hand came out, fingers encircling the hot flesh of her bare arm. Was he simply steadying her? Or was he—?

  ‘Right.’ Lockie’s footsteps acted like a douche of cold water and Georgia snatched her arm away as though she had been stung. Her brother joined them and if he noticed anything amiss he made no comment ‘Ready to go?’ he asked easily.

  Then Georgia was in the front of the wagon with her brother beside her and Jarrod had walked around the front to climb in behind the wheel.

  ‘Shove over a bit, sis.’ Lockie wriggled and the seat springs protested. ‘If this door opens while we’re driving along I’ll pop out like a cork from a bottle.’

  Georgia felt herself grow hot again as she gave her brother a little more room on the bench seat. She fumbled for the sash of her seat belt and both Jarrod and Lockie tried to help her.

  Georgia’s nerves tightened until she thought they’d snap and as Jarrod reached out to switch on the ignition she barely disguised her flinch. His arm brushed hers as he shifted the gear lever and Georgia wondered if the other two were as aware as she was of that same heightened tension that swelled inside the car.

  There was no way Georgia could make any attempt at conversation right
then. She was far too busy trying to justify her capricious reactions to her usually dignified, rational self. At least, she’d thought she now had some composure, some control. But perhaps she’d been wrong.

  ‘I’ll need directions once we get to Oxley,’ Jarrod said as they turned off their narrow road onto the smoother bitumen surface of the main highway.

  ‘Georgia knows the way,’ Lockie said casually. ‘And I’ve just had an idea. Andy’s new flat is just off the highway at Darra—we go right past it—so if you drop me off there I can bring my van back and save shuttling back and forth with Andy later.’

  ‘Andy may not have finished with your van,’ Georgia managed to say, horrified that Lockie would dare to leave her alone again with Jarrod.

  ‘He should be; he hasn’t got that much stuff,’ Lockie told her, obviously not receiving the frantic silent messages she was trying to send him. ‘I can be home by the time you collect Morgan.’

  ‘Lockie—’ Georgia began warningly.

  ‘Sounds sensible to me, Georgia,’ Jarrod agreed, and Georgia could only wordlessly concede, seething at her brother’s insensitivity.

  ‘Has Morgan been flatting long?’ Jarrod asked. ‘I just can’t imagine her being old enough to be out on her own.’

  Lockie shifted uncomfortably, glancing sideways at his sister.

  ‘I’m afraid Morgan didn’t exactly leave with the family’s blessing,’ Georgia explained evenly. ‘She’s only just seventeen and we thought she was too young to move away from home and into a flat with her boyfriend.’

  ‘I see.’ Jarrod pulled into the passing lane, easily overtaking a slower car.

  ‘Morgan’s going through a bad patch. She decided to leave school and then she couldn’t get a job. She’s very—well, wilful at present.’ Georgia sighed tiredly.

  ‘And how!’ put in Lockie. ‘I often wondered if the flat was really Steve’s idea or if Morgan organised it all. As incomprehensible as it seems, Steve’s head over heels in love with her. That’s why I find it hard to believe that he actually hit her. It’s so out of character.’

  ‘This fellow hit Morgan?’ Jarrod asked with a frown.

  ‘So she told Georgia on the phone,’ Lockie replied.

  ‘How old is he? Does he have a job?’ Jarrod questioned.

  ‘He’s a bit older than Morgan, isn’t he, Georgia? I’d say nineteen or twenty. Actually he works for your father as an apprentice something or other. I always thought he was a nice guy, pretty quiet and sensible. Didn’t you think so too, sis?’

  ‘He is a nice boy—’ Georgia began, wishing her brother wasn’t so forthcoming about their family problems.

  ‘Not so nice if he hit a woman,’ Jarrod broke in drily. ‘Any sort of abuse, physical or mental, is unacceptable.’

  ‘Perhaps there can be worse things,’ Georgia remarked softly, bitterly, before she could stop herself. The past was waving shadowy fronds to taunt her, and she could sense the sudden stiffening in the man beside her.

  ‘Not in my book,’ Jarrod said firmly. ‘An argument needn’t come to that.’

  ‘You’re not wrong. Wife beaters are cowards in mine. Turn left at the next set of lights, Jarrod.’ Lockie pointed out the flats where Andy now lived and his battered kombivan was parked outside, Andy and Ken beside it as they lifted a couple of cardboard cartons. ‘Right.’ Lockie opened the door and slid from the station wagon. ‘I’ll see you back at the house later.’

  And Georgia could only sit there as her brother walked away. Before she could move, unclip her centre seat belt and slip into Lockie’s now vacant place by the door, Jarrod pulled the station wagon away from the kerb. She was left sitting close to Jarrod, as close as lovers. The way they used to…

  Once again her brother had neatly sidestepped any responsibilities.

  ‘I’m sorry about all this-’ Georgia strove to keep her voice even ‘-and I appreciate your helping us out,’ she finished quickly.

  ‘As I said, it’s no sweat.’ He was frowning, and they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence until Georgia had to direct him to turn off the highway.

  The flats were old but well kept and they had no trouble finding the right one, for Morgan was standing in the lighted open doorway watching for them. As Georgia climbed out of the car she came hurrying down the path, suitcase in hand.

  ‘Georgia! Thank goodness you’re here. I thought Steve would come back before you finished. I’ve got my things. Let’s go,’ she finished breathlessly.

  ‘Just a minute, Morgan.’ Georgia stopped her sister’s headlong flight with a hand on her arm. ‘I think we should go inside and wait for Steve and you can explain exactly what happened.’

  ‘When we get home, Georgia. I’ll tell you then. I don’t want to see Steve or stay here any longer, and what’s more I’m not going to.’

  ‘Only a couple of weeks ago you couldn’t bear to be anywhere else,’ Georgia reminded her sister wearily.

  Morgan turned on her, her darkish curls flouncing. ‘And I might have known you’d throw that up at me, Georgia. You think I’m still a child, but I’m not a child!’ She stamped her foot.

  ‘Morgan—’ Georgia went to put her hand on her sister’s shoulder but the younger girl brushed it away.

  ‘I’m not staying, Georgia. You don’t even care that I’ll probably have a black eye tomorrow. Oh, come on. I’ll get the rest of my stuff later. Let’s go.’ She reached for the cardoor catch.

  Jarrod had walked around the car by now and he took the case from Morgan before opening the door for her.

  ‘For heaven’s sake.’ The young girl noticed him for the first time. ‘I don’t believe it. Jarrod Maclean.’

  He inclined his head. ‘One and the same. I’m sorry we’re not meeting in better circumstances.’

  ‘Well, yes.’ Morgan shot a swift glance at Georgia before smiling a little unsteadily. ‘You don’t look a day older and it must be—what, four years?’

  ‘More or less. And perhaps you should save that, “You don’t look a day older,” until you see me in broad daylight rather than under a dull streetlight.’

  Morgan laughed then, relaxing. ‘You’re still more of a hunk than you have a right to be. And I guess I look a bit different from when you last saw me too.’

  ‘Yes, you’re all grown-up-without your school uniform and your ankle socks.’

  ‘I’m about the same age Georgia was when you came home from college, aren’t I?’

  The air about them thickened and Georgia’s knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists.

  ‘Round about.’ Jarrod’s reply was flatly casual.

  ‘That’s the trouble with families.’ Morgan wrinkled her nose at Jarrod. “They’ve all seen you at your worst and they aren’t above reminding you about it either.’

  ‘Morgan.’ Georgia’s voice sounded thin to her ears.

  ‘Especially big sisters,’ Morgan remarked as she slid into the front seat of the car.

  Jarrod was still holding the door open and Georgia could only climb into the car herself. After closing the door, Jarrod deposited Morgan’s case in the back of the wagon and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  ‘How long have you been home?’ Morgan asked him as he set the car in motion.

  ‘Almost a week.’

  ‘Georgia told me Uncle Peter had had another heart attack so I guess that’s why you’ve come home.’

  “That’s right.’

  ‘The last I heard, you were in the States. What I wouldn’t give to go somewhere exciting like that. And what a bore to have to come back here.’

  ‘Morgan…’ Georgia tried to stem the flow of her sister’s bubbling conversation.

  ‘Well, it is boring. What’s to do around here?’

  Georgia sighed.

  ‘But, Jarrod—’ Morgan put her hand on his arm ‘—I’m sorry about Uncle Peter. I always liked him,’ she said sincerely.

  Georgia barely heard her. She sat suddenly tense, a play of bewildering emotions momentarily p
ushing her worries about Morgan’s lack of tact out of her mind. Morgan’s small hand seemed to glow where it rested on Jarrod’s arm, its paleness in stark contrast to his tanned skin. What could be happening to her? She wanted to reach out and pull Morgan’s hand away.

  ‘I know Georgia visits Uncle Peter every week,’ Morgan was saying, ‘but I bet he’s pleased to see you back home.’

  Georgia forcibly tore her gaze from Morgan’s hand and shifted guiltily on the seat It had been well over a week since she’d seen Uncle Peter. Not since he’d dropped his bombshell about Jarrod’s return and she’d run like a startled rabbit.

  She should have known with his father being so ill that Jarrod would come home, but for some reason-selfdelusional-it hadn’t occurred to her. And it hadn’t been only Uncle Peter’s obvious pleasure at his son’s imminent return that had had her heart aching. She’d been caught unawares and she’d taken flight, not returning to the Maclean house in case she ran into Jarrod and made a complete fool of herself.

  Sitting here beside him only emphasised how easy that would be for her to do.

  ‘How is he now?’ Morgan asked, and Jarrod shrugged slightly.

  ‘He’s a little better, according to the doctor, but the last attack he had took its toll on him. That’s why Isabel sent for me.’

  There was an edge to his voice when he mentioned his stepmother and Georgia also tensed, blanketing the memories before they could take hold of her.

  When Georgia had been a child the Macleans, Peter and Isabel, had always confused her with their relationship. They were cool, restrained, never laughed together the way her parents did. And when Jarrod joined the family she had felt sorry for the tall, lanky teenager who had come to live in that quiet, unemotional atmosphere.

  Isabel Maclean was Georgia’s mother’s older sister, yet the two sisters couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Georgia’s mother had been bright and effervescent, loving and caring. Isabel rarely so much as smiled, and Georgia couldn’t remember her aunt ever hugging any of them when they were children.

  After Jarrod had arrived Georgia had always sensed that although Isabel and her stepson never openly expressed their dislike it was a mutual emotion. Or so she’d thought.