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She shot him a look. “Yeah?” There was no mistaking the guarded tone in her voice.
He had to know. “What happened to you?”
“Accident,” was her blunt reply.
“Right. A bad one, then.”
“Yeah, pretty bad.”
“How long ago?”
“A few years.”
“And what do you take for the pain?”
She put her fork down. “Nothing.”
Ryan felt like he’d been kicked in the guts. Nothing. Jesus and all the saints on the cross. She flicked him a glance, folded her arms across her middle, turned her gaze outward again. He desperately wanted to push. He wanted to know why someone in as much pain as she was clearly in wasn’t given anything to help her. But he looked at her in the soft glow of light and he knew, in his gut, that if he pushed her on it, she’d get up and limp back to her cabin. He did not want that, so he let it lie. He had every intention, however, of keeping an eye on her. Being as she was his new neighbor and quite lovely to look at, that job would be no hardship at all. Feeling that a change of subject was in order, he asked, “So, where are you from?”
“Melbourne.”
“Right. And did you grow up there?”
“I did.”
“Did you like it?”
She shrugged.
Not much for conversation, then. He searched his mind, trying desperately to think of something else to say. Perhaps realizing that she wasn’t holding up her side of the conversation, Georgie reached for her wine glass and took a sip before saying, “What about you? You’re from Ireland, obviously, but do you live in Australia?”
“I do, yes. I live in Melbourne.”
“Do you like it?”
He smiled. “I do like it, yes. I live in Malvern. What about you?”
“Caulfield.”
“Oh, well, we’re practically neighbors. Chances are we’ve seen each other shopping at Chadstone.” He doubted that, though. Because if he’d seen Georgie before, he would have remembered it.
“Maybe we have.” She took another sip of wine. “So what brought you to Australia?”
“My wife.”
“Oh, I see.” She was quiet for a long moment. “And she doesn’t mind you being away? Hanging out at an artist’s colony?”
“I doubt she knows about it.”
Georgie tilted her head sideways as she looked at him. “Huh?”
“She’s a research scientist, in Port Douglas. Where she lives with her second husband.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Me too. The summer heat up there is brutal.” She giggled at that and Ryan felt himself smiling in response.
“It wasn’t a bitter divorce, then?”
