Close Relations. Lynsey Stevens

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