The Protea Boys Read Online Free

forward until his leopard eyes locked with hers, and every bone in her body screamed at his proximity. One tanned finger reached up and gently traced the outline of her lips, and her mouth parted. He leaned closer. The scent of soap on his skin and the patterned flecks in his eyes engulfed her. His lips brushed hers and then he pulled back. A shiver of disappointment trickled through her.
    “Don’t worry, the wombat will be fine.”
    His words caressed her as gently as the hands cradling the baby wombat, and then he flashed a smile and winked at her.
    Walking back to her car, Georgie touched her fingers to her pulsing lips, bemused by her acquiescence. She almost regretted leaving but was also relieved she could hand over responsibility for her carelessness. As she reached the car, she paused. She wanted to deny the kiss that had only lasted a second; perhaps it hadn’t even been a kiss, just a mere brush of lips against lips. Touching her fingers to her mouth again, she checked, searching for a lasting residue. Nothing. Just a curling deep inside her. She turned back to face him.
    “I don’t know your name—”
    “Tom,” he said. “Drive carefully, Georgina.”

Chapter Four
    Drive carefully, Georgina.
    The words bounced around in her head and kept time with the jolts on the rutted road as she yanked the steering wheel over another pothole.
    Never mind drive carefully—how about behave carefully ?
    She’d run over a poor, defenseless animal, and she’d let some man she didn’t even know kiss her, all before seven o’clock in the morning. Shouldn’t she be upset, outraged, infuriated? Instead her insides were all soft and furry like the wombat he had cradled in his large hands.
    And what’s with the Georgina bit ?
    How did he know her name? It made her think of her mother and being in serious trouble, but then again, perhaps she was.
    By the time Georgie pulled up at the village hall for the Pilates lesson, the morning mist had cleared. Warm-up music wafted out of the windows, and she grabbed her yoga mat, fumbled with the car lock, and then walked in through the old doors. She intended to sneak unseen into the back row but luck was not on her side.
    “Morning, Georgie. Sleep well?” Hillary’s voice boomed out over the music, and every head moved in her direction. “We’ve just started.”
    Dropping her yoga mat to the floor, she stood at the back of the room, unable to decide whether she should stay or give up and search out the cup of tea Tom had recommended.
    “We’ll be taking things fairly easy today after the Christmas break, ladies, so don’t worry if you haven’t had any exercise for a while.”
    Surrendering to Hillary’s ministrations and the music, Georgie stretched up. The muscles in her spine elongated as she bent toward her toes. If she closed her eyes, followed the instructions, and concentrated on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she discovered she could ignore the flashbacks to the roadside, and by the time the hour was over, all the tension had drained away from her. She shook her arms and legs, feeling loose limbed and relaxed, and made a pact—she would try her very hardest to make the classes a habit.
    The group of women collected their towels and their mats, then made their farewells, but the prospect of driving back down the road didn’t hold much appeal to Georgie. She rolled up her mat and stood aimlessly in the center of the old hall.
    “Hey. Are you okay?” Hillary’s gaze bored into her. “Your eyes are red. You look as though you’ve been crying.”
    Terrific, just what she needed.
    Georgie shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m a bit spaced out. I hit a wombat on the way here.”
    “Oh. You poor thing. You didn’t hurt yourself, did you? Why didn’t you tell me when you got here?”
    “I’m all right. The wombat’s not, but someone stopped and gave me a hand. We found a baby in her pouch. He’s taken it to the vet.” She stared over