Tall, Dark & Scandalous: Jordan St Claire: Dark and Dangerous. Carole Mortimer
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to lever himself up and out onto the side of the pool.
Stephanie swam after him. ‘You can’t seriously be-lieve that, Jordan?’
‘Oh, yeah, Stephanie, I can.’
‘But—’
‘You wanted me in the pool, and that’s exactly where I ended up.’ Jordan was breathing hard from the exertion, leaving a trail of water behind him as he limped over to the cupboard where the towels were kept, taking one out to rub the excess water from his dripping wet hair. ‘If nothing else, I have to give you full marks for professional dedication.’ He threw the damp towel down disgustedly onto a lounger. ‘In fact I’ll be sure to mention to Lucan exactly how dedicated you are when I call him later and tell him I’ve kicked your shapely little bottom off the estate.’
Stephanie stood on the side of the pool too now, as angry as Jordan. He really believed that in the midst of being kissed by him she’d had the presence of mind to deliberately overbalance him as a way of forcing him into the swimming pool? She didn’t have that sort of control—in fact much longer in Jordan’s arms, being kissed by him, and she would have been completely out of control!
‘Now, just a minute—’
‘I believe I’ve already wasted enough of my time on you for one day.’ Jordan glowered at her from between narrowed lids before his expression turned to a scowl of dark and savage disgust and he looked down to pull the cold dampness of his T-shirt away from his chest.
Stephanie couldn’t take her gaze away from the muscled perfection of that chest, which was clearly visible through the wet T-shirt. She could feel her face burning with the memory of how much she had wanted to touch that muscled chest a few minutes ago. Of how much she had wanted to touch and caress all of him.
She turned away to take a towel from the cupboard and dry herself off as a way of hiding the burning in her cheeks, her mind racing with the enormity of what had just happened. World-famous actor Jordan Simpson had just kissed her, Stephanie McKinley.
Before accusing her of deliberately encouraging him so that she could push him into the pool! She certainly hadn’t done it deliberately, but had she encouraged him to kiss her? Stephanie didn’t think that she had…although she doubted that Rosalind Newman, for one, would believe that! This was terrible. She was fed up with being portrayed as some kind of scarlet woman. This would surely be the complete end of Stephanie’s professional career if Jordan went ahead and voiced his accusations about her to the cold and arrogant Lucan St Claire.
Stephanie felt ill. Nauseous. Could literally feel the heat leaving her cheeks. She stumbled over to one of the loungers to collapse onto it as her knees gave way beneath her.
She might be able to fight one accusation of indulging in sexual indiscretion with a patient—but no one was going to believe two such accusations. Even if Stephanie managed to prove her innocence, some of the mud was sure to stick. Her professional reputation would be in tatters—
‘What’s wrong, Stephanie?’ Jordan had moved so that he now towered over her.
She blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall before looking up at him. God, they both looked such a mess: hair wet and tangled, their clothes clinging to them damply. Although maybe she should feel grateful they were still wearing any clothes at all after the way she had responded to Jordan’s kiss!
She shook her head as she murmured heavily, ‘That should never have happened…’
No, it shouldn’t, Jordan accepted, disgusted with himself. He had meant to stay as far away from this woman as possible, and hope that his non-cooperation would eventually persuade her into leaving. Kissing her as if he wanted to eat every delectable part of her could hardly be called non-cooperation on his part!
Although Stephanie’s guilt over a kiss was a little over the top, wasn’t it?
Jordan frowned as he stared down into green eyes awash with unshed tears. As he remembered how Stephanie’s responses had been so sweet, so addictive…So much so that Jordan was still aroused, that hardness clearly visible against the clinging denim material of his jeans.
Obviously the unexpected swim had been no more effective in dampening his desire for this woman than the cold shower had the night before.
Hell!
She blinked back those tears. ‘I really didn’t deliberately push you into the pool, Jordan.’
Jordan already knew that—just as he knew it was himself he was angry with and not Stephanie. ‘I think it’s better if we both forget the whole incident, don’t you?’ he suggested huskily.
‘Yes,’ she breathed raggedly.
He thrust a hand through his wet hair. ‘I suggest we both go back to the gatehouse now, and get out of these wet clothes before taking a shower.’
‘Before I leave?’
‘I think that would be the best thing for both of us,’ he confirmed heavily.
‘Just as well I didn’t unpack completely last night, isn’t it?’ Stephanie muttered dully as she stood up, giving Jordan a clear view of how the yellow T-shirt clung to the fullness of her bare breasts, clearly outlining the hard, berry-pink nipples he hadn’t quite got around to touching earlier.
He glanced away, but not quickly enough to stop his own arousal from throbbing anew. ‘Are you coming back to the house or not?’ he bit out, with a return of his impatience.
‘I’m coming.’ Stephanie picked up her jacket and slowly followed him outside.
She continued to inwardly bombard herself with self-recriminations as they walked back to the gatehouse in complete and uncomfortable silence. No matter how many times she went over the incident in her mind—whether she’d encouraged him or not—Stephanie knew that she shouldn’t have allowed that kiss with Jordan to happen. It didn’t really matter that she hadn’t planned it. Or that it still made her go hot all over just thinking about it!
The heat had completely dissipated by the time they had walked the half-mile or so back to the gatehouse, with the cold wind blowing through her wet clothing, and Stephanie’s teeth were literally chattering. Her face felt blue with the cold by the time Jordan unlocked the back door and allowed her to precede him into the warm and delicious-smelling kitchen.
‘You need to go upstairs and take a shower and put on some dry clothes,’ Jordan said again, as he saw how cold Stephanie was.
‘I—yes. Fine.’ She turned away to hang her coat on the back of one of the chairs. ‘You should do the same.’
‘I know what I need to do, Stephanie,’ Jordan scowled. ‘When you come back we’ll sit down and eat the soup you’ve made.’
She turned, her eyes wide. ‘But I thought you wanted me to leave.’
His mouth firmed. ‘Not before you’ve eaten something warm. I would hate for you to get back to London only to be admitted to hospital suffering from pneumonia,’ he explained as she frowned.
Stephanie looked at him searchingly before nodding slowly. ‘Some hot soup would be nice.’
‘Fine,’ he said tersely. ‘Well?’ he added a second later, as she made no effort to leave.
She swallowed hard. ‘I—I just want you to know that I really didn’t do anything deliberate to make us both fall into the swimming pool,’ she told him, one last time before leaving to go up the stairs.
Jordan drew in a deep breath once he was alone, his hands clenched at his sides, his expression bleak, knowing that his accident had obviously robbed him of his sense of humour as well as the mobility in his right leg. At any other time he would have found it funny that the two of them had fallen into the swimming pool.
Stephanie was the first woman he had even attempted to make love to since his accident six months ago. Attempted being an accurate