The Australian's Desire: Their Lost-and-Found Family / Long-Lost Son: Brand-New Family / A Proposal Worth Waiting For

‘Thanks but, no, thanks.’

‘I’m not asking for an answer yet. Give it more than a cursory thought before you refuse.’ He eyed Alistair speculatively. ‘So why aren’t you at the reception?’

‘I’m not invited.’

‘You know that makes no difference. And Georgie …’

‘Yeah,’ Alistair said heavily. ‘Georgie.’

‘So you’re figuring it out,’ Charles said, straight-faced.

‘Figuring what out?’

‘That you two are dynamite together.’

‘Hey, there’s no way. We’ve only just met.’

‘You met six months ago.’

‘For one night.’

‘And Georg went round with a face like thunder for days. She’d take that bike out on the back roads south of here and come back with her gas tank empty and her bike and herself covered in mud. We had no idea what was driving her …’

‘Her brother had gone.’

‘Yeah, but that had happened before. She’d never been like that.’

‘Charles …’

‘Yeah, I know, butt out.’ His pager sounded and he glanced at it, sighed and smiled. ‘Women. That’s Lily. My foster-daughter. It seems she’s stowed boxes of confetti in the pouch at the back of this chair and my presence is required immediately. Or my confetti.’ He wheeled back from the cot, smiling. ‘OK, I’ll head off to the reception. You know, Georgie isn’t much of a one for parties,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I might send her back to join you.’

‘Don’t.’

‘She got one hefty slug yesterday. As her treating physician, I’ve advised quiet time. Sitting in the nursery with you should be just the ticket.’

‘I’d prefer—’

‘To be alone. Yeah, wouldn’t we all? But look at me. I walked alone and now I have a partner and a child and all the accoutrements of life. They just sneaked up on me while I wasn’t looking, and aren’t I glad they did.’

‘I don’t want—’

‘You don’t know what you don’t want,’ Charles said enigmatically, and wheeled to the door. ‘Keep Megan safe. And do consider my offer.’

‘Offer?’

‘Of a job,’ he said patiently.

‘I don’t want—’

‘You don’t know what you don’t want,’ Charles said again. ‘Think about it some more.’

And he disappeared, leaving Alistair alone with his thoughts.

It was dim and quiet in the ward. Megan was the only child in the nursery. Ilse came in and talked to him for a bit, but her English was poor. She kept throwing longing glances at the desk and finally he checked what she’d been glancing at and grinned. The title might be in German but he could recognise a romantic novel when he saw it.

‘Go back to your book,’ Alistair said, handing it over with good humour.

‘It’s that it’s so quiet,’ she said apologetically, smiling back at him. ‘Herrick is bored as I. Everyone is at the wedding or—how you say?—banging wood on windows. Is there to be a cyclone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think a cyclone will be exciting,’ she said, with the placid pleasure of the young. ‘But you … you need to be at wedding. I can take care of Megan.’

‘I’ll go in a minute.’

‘We have money,’ she said, and she smiled. ‘Ten dollars my Herrick has put.’

‘Ten dollars?’

‘Dr Luke has started … what you call … a book,’ she said. ‘That you and Georgie by the end of the week … Two to one.’

‘What—?’

‘So you need to go back to wedding,’ she said. ‘Because ten dollars is ten dollars and I don’t want my Herrick to lose.’

‘Go back to your romance,’ he growled.

‘And you, too,’ she said, and grinned. ‘Doctor.’ And she buried her nose in her book before he could think of a suitable retort.

Weddings sucked.

Oh, as weddings went, this was a good one. Mike and Emily were a match made in heaven—even cynical Georgie had to admit that. The Pouloses’ over-the-top enthusiasm was infectious, their generosity amazing, and it would be a strange person who couldn’t be drawn into the fun and excitement. Even the wind, blasting around the little hotel in ever-increasing strength, seemed to be there specifically to form a backdrop to the band.

Georgie danced until her legs ached. She threw the odd plate with gusto. She ate a little.

She didn’t want to be there. She wanted to be … with Alistair?

Don’t do it, she told herself fiercely. You don’t do love. You don’t do commitment. You don’t know if he’s a gentle one or a bully, but they always turn out one way or the other in the end, and you know you can’t bear either.

It could be fun to find out.

No.

Her current dance partner, Bruce, the local wildlife officer, spun her in a clumsy attempt at waltzing. She thought back to Alistair’s expert dance techniques and that had her even more confused.

So why don’t you want to find out? she asked herself.

‘Because he’s perfect right now.’