The Australian's Desire: Their Lost-and-Found Family / Long-Lost Son: Brand-New Family / A Proposal Worth Waiting For. Lilian DarcyЧитать онлайн книгу.
and sat down at the kitchen table in front of Gina. And tried to think what to say. And couldn’t. ‘How many of these do you have to tie?’ he said at last, which was pathetic but small talk had never been his forte.
‘A hundred and twenty.’
‘How many have you done?’
‘Thirty.’
‘And they’re for?’
‘Fertility. Mrs Poulos says.’
‘Silly me for asking,’ he said, and picked up a wishbone. ‘Tell me about Georgiana.’
Gina kept on tying. ‘She says you have her summed up.’
‘I did have her summed up,’ he said ruefully. ‘I may have got it wrong.’
‘She doesn’t always wear stilettos,’ Gina conceded.
‘You mean she only did it for my benefit?’
‘I suspect she was horrified about the way she behaved when you were here last.’
‘I was pretty horrified at myself, too.’
‘So have you apologised?’
‘I … No.’
‘She had a reason for behaving appallingly. What was yours?’
‘I thought she was …’
There was a lengthy pause. Four more chicken wishbones got attached to baskets.
‘You thought she was cheap?’ Gina suggested.
‘I thought she was gorgeous,’ Alistair admitted. ‘Cheap, yeah. But still gorgeous. When she threw herself at me, I couldn’t resist.’
‘Men!’
‘She was … gorgeous. Trashy but great. You don’t feel like that when you look at Cal?’
‘Hey, we’re talking about my future husband here,’ Gina said with asperity. ‘My husband in a week. Someone I respect. You’re talking about someone you’re describing as trashy.’
He winced. ‘Are these wishbones for your wedding or for the one this afternoon?’
‘This afternoon. Mike’s mum read it in Vogue about a hundred years ago and she’s had her heart set on them ever since. Every chicken that’s gone through this kitchen has died for the greater good of Mike’s wedding.’ She tied another. ‘So …’ She looked at him dubiously across the table. ‘You saw Georgie and you got the hots for her.’
‘I’m sure there are better ways of framing it.’
‘I don’t have to watch my mouth with my cousin. Do you still have the hots?’
‘No!’
‘But six months ago … you felt so strongly that you went home and broke it off with Eloise’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Just because our mothers are dead, it doesn’t mean I don’t know your intimate secrets, Alistair Carmichael. Not that breaking off an engagement is an intimate secret. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It wasn’t important.’ He glowered. ‘We’re still friends and professional colleagues. So how exactly did you find out?’
‘Georgie told me. She said you told her last night.’
She and Georgie had talked about him. That was … interesting.
‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ Gina asked again.
‘I didn’t want you to—’
‘To get the wrong impression,’ she finished for him, suddenly thoughtful. ‘You know, I’m starting to think there might be some other purpose in you agreeing to come here and give me away.’
‘There’s not,’ he said shortly.
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘But if Eloise is out of the picture …’
‘Don’t even go there.’
They went back to tying ribbons. Great intellectual exercise. It left Alistair’s mind free to wander in places he didn’t particularly want to wander. Finally they were interrupted. It was Gina’s fiancé, Dr Cal Jamieson. He saw what they were doing and grinned. ‘Hey, you’ve got another suck—I mean helper,’ he told Gina. ‘Well done, mate. Gina asked me to help but I was really busy. Lawns to watch grow. Imperative stuff like that.’
He got two wishbones thrown at him simultaneously. Followed by two baskets of almonds.
‘Hey, don’t both of you shoot,’ he said, wounded.
‘We’re cousins,’ Gina said briefly. ‘It’s called family support.’
‘Why isn’t CJ doing this?’ Cal asked.
‘He said it was boring.’
‘Which it is—mate,’ Alistair said, and rose. ‘I’ve done twelve. That’s my quota.’
‘Actually, I have a job for you,’ Cal said, turning serious. ‘If you don’t mind.’
‘Anything that doesn’t involve chicken wishbones and painted almonds. And I’m not even going to this wedding …’
‘It’s Georgie,’ Cal said. ‘She’s over in the nursery. She and Charles are fretting about Megan. We want your advice.’
‘I’m a neurosurgeon,’ Alistair said, frowning. ‘Advice?’
‘She’s hoping she doesn’t need it,’ Cal said, suddenly grim. ‘But she’s afraid that she might.’
Hell, this weather was wild. The moment they stepped out the door Alistair reeled back against the strength of the wind. Cal, who’d come out behind him, shoved his hands in the small of his back and pushed.
‘Just a nice, gentle, ocean breeze, kiddo,’ he said, grinning as both men put their heads down and battled the short distance to the hospital.
‘My God … This is cyclone stuff.’
‘Edge of a cyclone,’ Cal agreed. ‘Willie. But the weather guys are still saying it’ll turn out to sea. They’re predicting strong winds for this afternoon’s wedding, but not as strong as this. It’ll settle soon.’
‘Do you often get cyclones?’
‘Not bad ones. Or not often. Tracy took out Darwin on Christmas Day twenty years ago and one came through south of here last year and flattened the nation’s banana crop.’ He was yelling, but as he spoke they reached the hospital and walked inside. Cal’s last couple of words echoed round the silence of the hospital.
‘Why does Georgie want me?’ Alistair asked. He knew this wasn’t a social call. He knew she’d be avoiding him. So what now?
‘She’s worried,’ Cal said. ‘And Charles and I concur, but there’s not a lot we can do about it. If this wind wasn’t grounding all planes, we’d do an evacuation but … well, let’s see what you think.’ And he pushed open the doors to the nursery.
Charles was there, in his wheelchair. It hadn’t taken long for Alistair to discover that Crocodile Creek’s medical director was a really astute doctor. Charles had lost the use of his legs through an accident in his youth, but what he lacked in mobility he more than compensated for with the sheer breadth of his intellect.
Charles was a big man with a commanding presence, but right now Alistair hardly noticed Charles. For Georgie was beside him. The bruise across her cheek had darkened overnight and swelled still more. She’d removed the dressing he’d put over the split, and the cut looked … vicious.
They could throw away Smiley’s