Antarctic Affair (15 page)
Taj released her. He threw back his head and took a
deep breath. When he looked at her again he was perfectly composed, although
his clenched fists belied his calm demeanour.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” she began, gazing at him
helplessly.
He shook his head.
“It was my fault,” he acknowledged. “I apologise, it
won’t happen again.”
Despite his apology, he didn’t look at all fazed by
the fact that he’d just kissed an engaged woman. Georgina only wished she could
be half as unaffected.
Kissing Taj had quite literally knocked the socks
off her. It had been a mistake, a terrible faux
pax
but at the same time she could not help but compare him to Charles. Dear Charles
who had always been her pillar of strength, was helpless to defend himself
against the seductive onslaught of the ‘rebel’ photographer himself. She had to
be realistic about this. How could anyone compare to Taj? In the looks
department he was by far the most attractive man she’d ever met. Not suave like
most of the male models she met in her job, but rugged and raw in a way that
made any red-blooded woman want to at least attempt to tame him, and if they
couldn’t then to thoroughly enjoy trying. Guilt filled her senses. There must
be something wrong with her. Engaged women did not throw themselves into
another man’s arms, even if those arms did belong in Men’s Health magazine. She
sighed heavily. Okay, she was not going to make a big deal out of this. She was
a professional and she still had to write a piece on the guy. She could not
afford to scare him off by over reacting. Things had been going so well. Oh,
why had he decided to kiss her?
“Let’s forget about it, shall we?” she suggested,
trying to act nonchalant. She even managed a wry smile, “We can put it down to
one of those moments of insanity you were talking about.”
He didn’t smile, but something in his eyes told her
that brief kiss had meant more to him than he let on. “Fine with me.”
She nodded, “Great,” and after a pause added, “I
hope that photo we took was okay.”
“We can look at it on my laptop when we get back to
the
Explorer
,” he told her. “I view
all my photo’s before I develop them, that way.”
To toss out the ones that don’t work, she finished
in her head. Was that how he treated the women that didn’t work for him too?
She felt ashamed at the thought. She vowed to stop thinking about Taj and to
pull herself together and concentrate on her cover story, as well as the other
article she was keen to begin. But it was difficult when the man she was trying
so desperately to ignore was striding up the path ahead of her, camera bag
slung over his shoulder, emitting all the strength and grace of a Greek god.
They continued in that vein for about ten minutes, when they spotted Max and
his assistant prancing around in the snow close to where they’d left them on
the first leg of the hike.
“Hey ya’ll, come on over here,” Max shouted,
beckoning to them as they walked passed.
“I wonder what he wants,” she murmured to Taj who’d
stopped on the path. “Let’s go find out,” said Taj, breaking off the path and
heading in their direction. Georgina hesitated for a reason she couldn’t
explain. Perhaps it was the smug look on Max’s face, or the way Darryl was
watching her, like an eagle watched a mouse it was about to swoop down and
devour. Sighing, she followed Taj, crunching through the snow.
“What’s up guys?”
Georgina came to a stop next to Taj.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, little lady,” said
Max, handing Georgina a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” asked Taj, peering over Georgina’s
shoulder.
“It’s a script,” answered Georgina, looking up at
Max. “What do you want me to do with this?”
“Come now darlin’, I told you I’d get you in front
of a camera, didn’t I?”
“What are you up to Max?” asked Taj, then glancing
at Georgina, “You okay with this?”
She sighed, “I suppose so. Oh Max, I told you I
wasn’t interested.”
“I’m from Texas honey, there we don’t take no for an
answer. Tell me you’ll do it?”
Georgina stared at the script.
Taj was watching her, “It’s up to you, George.”
Eventually she nodded. “Okay Max, I’ll do it, but
just this once.”
“Yeah!” he yelled. “Darryl, set up the camera. Do
you need a minute honey, to read through it?”
“Of course I need a minute,” she replied slightly
irritated. “This script is a page long.”
After a second she groaned, “I’m never going to
remember this.”
Taj shrugged, “So make it up, it won’t matter.”
She read through the script. “Fluffy white snow? Who
wrote this, it’s awful.”
“Sorry,” muttered a shame-faced Darryl. Max burst
out laughing. “I didn’t hire Darryl for his writing ability. That’s your
speciality my dear, so feel free to ad lib.”
“Great, more pressure,” she murmured to an amused
Taj.
“I need a moment,” Georgina said and walked a couple
of metres away to try and concentrate on what she was going to say. Ten minutes
later and Max was positioning her in front of the camera.
“Just act natural,” he told her, handing her an
enormous padded microphone.
“I don’t know how else to act,” she replied, trying
to relax.
“You ready?” called Max. She nodded.
“Three, two, one,” called out Darryl, “And action!”
Georgina stared into the camera and froze. Her mind
went blank. She blinked and then blurted out, “Sorry, I told you I’d be awful
at this.”
“You look great on camera,” said Max, “Let’s try
again.”
Darryl went through the three, two, one rundown
again and this time when he called, ‘action’, Georgina took a deep breath and
began to speak.
“I’m standing next to an ancient glacier at Paradise
Bay, deep within the Antarctic Peninsular, surrounded only by penguins and the
occasional seal and it is the most beautiful place I have ever seen,” she
began. In the corner of her eye she saw Taj watching her intently, an
unreadable expression on his face. She went on to explain what a diverse
environment Antarctica was, and how some species that lived here could be found
nowhere else on earth.
“Like the Antarctic amphipod, for example,” she
smiled into the camera. “This tiny crustacean exists a hundred feet underwater
and is so rare, that marine biologists from all over the world travel here to
take a look at it.”
No one interrupted her, or told her to stop, so she
carried on talking. When she got to the bit about the water temperature she
glanced at Taj, “And to demonstrate how important it is to keep warm in
temperatures of this kind, we have our resident expert, Mr. Taj Andrews,” and
she held the microphone out to him.
“Very funny, George,” he drawled, but he looked
pleased.
“Is that enough?” she pleaded, handing the
microphone back to Darryl. She was out of things to say anyway.
Max moved out from behind the camera and clapped his
hands ecstatically. “I knew it,” he said happily. “You were wonderful.”
“Was I really?” She glanced at Taj who looked thoughtful.
“You’ve rendered him speechless,” joked Max, winking
at her.
“Max’s right, you are a natural,” said Taj, his eyes
bright with something that looked like pride. “Was all that in the script?”
“Actually, none of it was. I made it all up,” she
admitted.
He laughed.
“Did I make any sense at all?” she grimaced.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank God for that. I can’t
remember a thing.”
Max slapped Darryl on the back. “Let’s pack up and
get back,” he said. “I want to see this on the edit suite.”
“We’ll walk with you,” said Taj and after Darryl had
zipped up their equipment, they all set off down the slippery path back to the
beach.
Taj
was
an expert at hiding his feelings. He’d learnt from a young age that it was
pointless saying how he felt, because the housemasters at the boarding school
didn’t care and his father was too busy to listen. Consequently he’d discovered
how to keep them buried deep within himself so only his closest friends knew
when he was angry or upset. Don, unfortunately was one of those friends.
“I thought I’d find you here,” said Don, taking a
seat next to Taj in the bar.
“Can’t a man get any privacy around here,” growled
Taj.
“No, afraid not,” retorted Don. “I hate to remind
you, but we’re on a research ship. There are forty passengers, twenty-six
cabins and one bar. No privacy.”
“In that case I’ll have another drink,” he summoned
the barman.
“Make it two,” said Don.
After they got their drinks Don asked, “How was your
hike? I noticed you and George break away from the group. Doing a little
freelancing, are we?”
Taj glared at him. “She’s an engaged woman, Don,
which means she’s unavailable.”
“And I’m willing to bet that’s exactly what’s got
you so worked up.”
He sighed, “Leave it alone, Don.”
Don grinned, “Yes, but can you leave her alone?
She’s a beautiful woman, Taj. Hard to ignore.”
“You’re not helping.” Taj took a gulp of his
whiskey.
“Can I ask a personal question?” asked Don.
“No.”
“Has anything happened between you two? I didn’t see
George around tonight after dinner.”
“She’s gone to call her fiancé, if you must know,
and no, nothing happened,” he said softly.
Don wasn’t fooled. “Liar, but okay. So how does she
feel about
you
?”
Taj ran an agitated hand threw his hair.
“She’s about to marry the publisher. How do you
think she feels?”
Don shrugged. “Confused? Undecided? Now that she’s
met you she realises what a terrible mistake she’s made.”
Even Taj had to smile. “Give me a break.”
“Perhaps she’s calling off the engagement even as we
speak,” said Don brightly.
“I doubt it. She wouldn’t have got engaged to the
guy if she didn’t love him.”
“How do you know?” asked Don. “People get married
for all kinds of reasons. Money, security, protection.”
“
Love
,”
finished off Taj significantly.
Don threw his hands in the air, “Yes, there is that
too.”
They paused long enough to each take a sip of their
drinks.
“Maybe she’s falling in love with you,” commented
Don idly, tracing a finger around the rim of his glass.
“No, she’s not,” said Taj firmly. “I’m the last person
in the world she would want to end up with.”
Don raised a brow, “And why is that? You don’t
smell. You don’t have any annoying bad habits, or not that I can remember
anyway and I’ve known you a long time.”
Taj bowed his head, “Do we really have to go into
this?”
“No, I could go to bed and leave you to wallow in
self-pity all night, but unfortunately for me, I’m too loyal a friend for
that.”
Taj gave in.
“Okay, if you must know, she wants stability. That’s
the most important thing to her.”
“So what’s the problem? You’re stable.”
“Physically, you idiot. Not mentally.”
Don laughed and Taj was grateful to him for
lightening the mood. “I don’t even remember what my lounge looks like I’m away
so often and I leave more personal belongings in hotel bathrooms than I have in
my own bathroom. You get the picture?”
“Ah, so not very conducive to a successful
relationship then?”
Taj nodded once.
“Now you’re beginning to understand the problem.
Even if I were to make a play for her, I couldn’t offer her what she needs.
It’s an impossible situation. Not to mention the fact she lives on a different
continent.”
Don patted him on the back, “The London thing is
purely a matter of logistics and the least of your problems. Your nomadic
lifestyle, however, that’s a tough one.”
Seeing his friend’s shoulders sag, he elaborated,
“Not insurmountable, however, but definitely challenging.”
“I’ve seen enough girlfriends walk out the door
because of it,” he said dryly. “I would say it’s a bit more than
challenging
.”
“Well, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Taj nodded and the barman, picking up on their
sombre mood, refilled their glasses without being asked.
They drank in compatible silence for while until Don
muttered, “You never know. Sometimes love can conquer all.”
Taj stifled a laugh, “Yeah, right, Cupid.”
Soon after that Don left the bar and retreated to
his cabin. Rounding the final corner he saw Georgina opening her door.