Legally Addicted - By Lena Dowling Page 0,54

to.’

Brad’s tone was sharp. She had gotten used to saying pretty much whatever she liked without any risk of gaining a rise out him. The rebuke came as a shock and Georgia reacted, making no attempt to disguise the sarcasm in her voice.

‘Now he comes over all keen on “appropriateness”. I can assure you there was nothing appropriate about the way you lured me up to your penthouse in the first place.’

Brad pulled himself up straighter against the back of the lounger.

‘It didn’t stop you coming back for more, as I recall. Look, this isn’t about us, Georgia. It’s about what’s right and fair. If I intervened to get Spencer Trust funding for your project, then someone else at least as deserving would miss out. You get that, don’t you?’

‘Don’t patronise me, Brad. I get precisely what you’re saying, but those people are strangers. I’m your girlfriend. You have to help me.’

There she had said it. Admitted it to herself. That is what she had become.

Brad’s Girlfriend.

And as his girlfriend she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could they have any future together, if Brad didn’t understand how important establishing the addiction centre was to her? Without funding, she would get nowhere, and even though three million dollars was a lot, it was a drop in the bucket compared to the Spencer fortune. It’s not that he couldn’t pull strings to help her. She could have accepted that. But he hadn’t said that. What she heard him say quite emphatically was that he could, but that he wouldn’t.

‘I have to?’ Brad shook his head. ‘Caro said you were just out for the money and I didn’t believe her. But it looks like she might have been right. Did you ever care about me at all?’

‘Of course I care about you. I can’t believe you would even ask that.’

Without looking in Brad’s direction, Georgia hoisted herself out of the pool, dried herself off, then grabbed her clothes out of the changing room and stalked towards the lift, still dripping.

She knew she had sounded genuinely indignant but she needed to keep moving, to prevent the splinter of guilt pricking at her from puncturing through and moving up through her system. She did care about him, that part was true enough, but getting Brad to fund the addiction centre had been the incentive, the tipping point that tempted her to get involved with him in the first place, and she wasn’t about to admit that.

‘Georgia, wait, what are you doing? Let’s discuss this.’

From the change in direction and volume of Brad’s voice, which was now coming from higher up, she could tell he had stood up out of the lounger and was walking towards her.

‘What is there to discuss? You know what this project means to me. You can do something to help, but you’ve categorically stated that you won’t.’

She jabbed at the button for the lift without turning around to look at him.

Brad was beside her now, visible in her peripheral vision.

‘Georgia, stop, we have to talk about this.’

She said nothing. What was there to say? He had made his position very clear. More talking wouldn’t change that, and the more they talked the more likely it would be that she would end up admitting why she had got involved with him in the first place and that when it boiled down to it, Caro was right. She was after his money.

The lift doors finally parted and she stepped inside. Brad’s voice rose to a shout to make sure she heard.

‘If you leave, Georgia, if you walk out on me again, then that’s it. This thing — it’s over between us.’

Once she heard the lift doors close behind her she turned around, pushed the emergency stop, and changed back into her clothes. Then she released the brake, pressing the button for the hotel foyer. On the ground floor she exited the lift, thrusting the damp towel into an open mouthed bellboy’s hands before running out into the street.

Chapter Twelve

Brad let Georgia go. He had no intention of being the one to smooth things over. Not this time. Instead, he collapsed back down into the lounger and took the top off another beer.

If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was the continual trickle of requests for money that the Spencer family wealth attracted. The stories were invariably sad and, if true and not some scam, were likely worthy causes, but there was something about direct appeals for money that he