Her small white teeth nibbled back at his bottom lip, the tugging sensation sending his senses into overdrive. He was going to explode if he didn’t call a halt soon. He felt like a teenager who hadn’t yet learnt how to control the trigger on his release. He wanted her so badly he could feel his body preparing for it, the ache unbearable as she brushed against him in increasing urgency.
‘OK …’ he said, finally managing to drag his mouth off hers, his breathing ragged as he put her from him. ‘This might be a good time to stop.’
Georgie looked up at him in a combination of bewilderment and shame. ‘I’m sorry … I don’t know how that happened.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he said, his body still pulsing with need. ‘I shouldn’t have touched you on the shoulder.’ He dragged a hand through his hair again, making it stand on end. ‘I guess it’s been too long since I touched a woman other than a patient. My mother and sister are right. I need to get out more.’
‘It’s all right,’ she said, trying to breathe evenly while her heart was still jumping all over the place. ‘I understand.’
He put the desk between them and sat down heavily. ‘I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea,’ he said. ‘That was a momentary lapse and it won’t be repeated.’
‘I understand,’ she said again. Shifting from foot to foot in a nervous schoolgirl manner, she asked, ‘Um … do you want to discuss my research project now or shall I come back some other time?’
Ben ran a hand over the rough shadow peppering his jaw. He wasn’t sure he had the self-control necessary to get through an hour of planning out a research proposal with her, locked away in his office. The only thing he wanted to research was her body, and the only thing he wanted to propose was a redhot affair. ‘I’ll organise another time early next week,’ he said. ‘I have some paperwork to see to that’s urgent.’
She shifted her feet again. ‘Can I go now?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning, if you haven’t changed your mind about helping me with Hannah.’
Her tongue came out and did a nervous little flick over her lips. ‘I haven’t changed my mind.’
‘Right, then,’ he said, pulling his eyes away from her mouth. ‘If you have any problems with the press, call me. Don’t say a thing to anyone other than me. OK?’
‘Yes.’
He held her gaze for a fraction longer than necessary. ‘It could have happened to anyone, Georgie,’ he said. ‘Don’t blame yourself.’
Georgie wasn’t sure what he was referring to, the kiss or the letter from Jonathon Tander’s barrister. She didn’t stop to find out. She gave him a wobbly smile and left before she was tempted to reach over the desk and pull his mouth back to hers.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BELINDA BRONSON was coming out of the gym on Friday evening as Georgie was going in. ‘Just the person I wanted to see,’ she said, pulling Georgie to one side away from the cluster of members near the front door.
‘I was going to say the very same thing to you,’ Georgie said with a little frown. ‘I got into heaps of trouble over talking to you about the Tanders’ accident.’
Belinda’s expression turned cynical. ‘That kind of figures,’ she said. ‘I spoke to a mate of mine in Traffic—he must have pressed a few too many sensitive buttons. He told me Mr Tander is a legal eagle. Law
yers always think they’re above suspicion and that the legal system they represent and defend so volubly in court doesn’t apply to them outside it.’
‘Yeah, well, he’s not just any old legal eagle,’ Georgie said. ‘He’s a high court judge. If he’s serious about going ahead with this, my career is over.’
Belinda tapped her top lip for a moment. ‘You know, it might be worth having a deeper look into this,’ she said. ‘Off the record, if you know what I mean.’
‘I don’t want any more trouble,’ Georgie insisted. ‘My boss bawled me out this afternoon over it.’ He also kissed me senseless, and I still can’t think straight as a result. ‘It’s hard enough handling him without this sort of complication to make things worse.’
‘As far as I recall from what Ewan McGuire in Traffic told me, Mr Tander was driving a Mercedes. I can’t think of the model number offhand, but I do know it had air bags and they were activated on both the driver and front passenger sides.’
Georgie’s eyes went wide. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, but apparently Mrs Tander wasn’t wearing a seat belt. The tree had a branch right at the point of impact, the windscreen was smashed and the air bag got punctured as well.’
‘I guess that more or less accounts for the severity of the injury, then,’ Georgie said with a musing frown.
Belinda nodded. ‘Also, Mr Tander was all clear as far as drinks and drugs are concerned,’ she said. ‘In fact, he’s got a squeaky-clean driving record, not bad for nearly forty years of driving.’
‘What was the cause of the accident?’ Georgie asked. ‘Did your friend find out?’
‘Mr Tander said a car swerved to his side of the road and he took evasive action and by doing so lost control of his own car and hit the tree,’ Belinda said. ‘Of course, there were no witnesses and he couldn’t recall the make or model of the other car so it’s not going to be easy to prove him wrong if he is, in fact, lying. The accident investigation guys are checking out tyre marks on the road—you know, to see if there are any skid marks to verify what Mr Tander said happened—although, if it was wet, which apparently it was in that suburb the morning of the accident, there won’t be any skid marks. It could be a few days before the results come in.’