And once they had adjusted she and Finn would discuss how to move forwards. Even though he’d already told her that he’d take care of both her and Josh financially, which was one less thing to have to worry about, at some point in the not-too-distant future she’d have to dip her toe back into the world of work and see if anyone would employ her. She’d loved her job. She couldn’t imagine not ever working again. Mrs Gardiner had said she would stay as long as she was needed, so maybe she’d even go with them when Georgie and Josh eventually moved out of the penthouse and set up home somewhere conveniently near by.
Spying Carla sitting at a table in the corner that had plenty of space for a pushchair beside it and feeling a grin spread across her face, Georgie made her way over.
‘Hi!’ she said, giving Carla, who stood up, a quick kiss on the cheek.
‘Wow, you look better,’ said her friend with a smile.
‘I feel better,’ Georgie replied, taking off her coat and sitting down. In honour of the outing she’d styled her hair for the first time in months and slapped on some make-up. This morning she’d looked at herself in the mirror and noticed with delight that the colour had returned to her cheeks and her eyes had regained the sparkle she’d missed so much. ‘Practically back to normal.’
‘Hotel penthouse life is clearly suiting you.’
‘It is. I don’t have to lift a finger, so I’m getting plenty of rest. Finn has food sent up and it’s so delicious I’ve put on a stone.’
‘You needed to.’
Georgie grinned. ‘I know.’
‘Any regrets?’
Only that she turned into an awkward teen with a crush whenever Finn was around. ‘None at all.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘So am I.’
‘And how’s my gorgeous little boy?’
‘Thriving.’
‘Can I have a cuddle?’
‘Of course.’ Reaching down, Georgie unstrapped Josh, eased him out of the pushchair and handed him over. ‘How was your trip?’ she asked, watching as her son tried to grab Carla’s necklace and feeling her heart squeeze when he giggled.
‘Good,’ said Carla, taking his chubby little hand and wiggling it instead. ‘Exhausting. The usual obstacles to overcome but nothing I couldn’t handle. Far more interestingly, how’s your hot baby-daddy flatmate?’
Eeew. ‘Please don’t ever refer to him like that again.’
Carla grinned. ‘Is he as gorgeous as you remember?’
Every bit of it. And much more so now she’d caught glimpses of the man beneath the very attractive surface. ‘Yup,’ she said, automatically thinking about him in a towel and inevitably, irritatingly, feeling herself blush.
‘Aha!’ said Carla, who was extremely perceptive and knew her way too well. ‘Intriguing. I sense a story. Once we’ve ordered, you need to tell me absolutely everything.’
* * *
Where the hell were they?
Listening to Georgie’s voicemail recording click in for the dozenth time, Finn hung up and tossed his phone onto the buttoned ottoman that had once remained uncluttered but now served as a general dumping ground for things that hadn’t existed in his life pre-Georgie and Josh.
He’d arrived home half an hour ago after a lengthy meeting, expecting to be greeted by the noise and activity that over the last two weeks he’d become used to, and that unexpectedly he’d begun to welcome, in fact, since it provided a distraction to the continued lack of progress the investigation agency was making in locating his real parents.
Instead, he’d been met with silence. Georgie hadn’t left a note and she wasn’t answering her phone, and it was Mrs Gardiner’s day off. He had no idea where anyone was, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one little bit, not least because it had just occurred to him that Georgie could waltz out of here taking Josh with her at any point. In fact, he thought as his pulse skipped a beat and he suddenly went icy cold, she could well have already done so.
When they’d first moved in she’d badly needed his support. She’d been in no fit state to take control and only too happy to let him dictate what was going to happen. Now, however, she was stronger, fitter. He’d watched the transformation happen—the hollows in her cheeks slowly filling out, a healthy pink replacing the grey tinge to her skin. He’d witnessed with a strange sort of pride her increased confidence and the growing ease with which she interacted with their son.
In response to the way she’d blossomed, he’d experienced an annoying and frustrating surge in attraction, which he had no hope of assuaging, since not only was she still incredibly vulnerable, but it was also blindingly obvious that she had absolutely no desire to explore the possibility that the chemistry that had once consumed them still existed. She could barely even look at him and when she did she clearly found it uncomfortable, which was why he absented himself every evening. He claimed he had to work, but he didn’t because, despite being in total control of his company for the last thirteen years or so, he’d recently discovered that he had no problem with delegation.
Instead he spent the time in the basement of the hotel, either whipping up a storm in the gym or ploughing up and down the pool to ease the need and frustration pummelling through him. How could she not share the attraction he felt so strongly? he found himself wondering. Exactly how fragile was she still? And then, why the hell couldn’t he seem to stop thinking about his son in relation to his father?