Tall, Dark & Scandalous: Jordan St Claire: Dark and Dangerous. Carole Mortimer
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‘I wouldn’t put you in the airhead category, Stephanie,’ he teased.
‘We aren’t dating!’
‘We aren’t anything yet,’ Jordan accepted dryly. ‘But if you insist on staying on here we’re most definitely going to be something.’
Stephanie’s cheeks blushed hotly. ‘You can’t possibly know that.’
‘Would you like me to show you?’
‘You arrogant, overbearing, self—’
‘Sticks and stones, Stephanie…’
‘No, it’s the truth,’ she maintained forcefully. ‘You may have—may have caught me slightly off-guard this morning when you kissed me, but it won’t happen again.’
‘No?’ He moved closer to her.
Stephanie stood her ground. ‘No!’
His eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘You seem slightly—flustered…’
‘I’m getting rather annoyed, actually,’ she flared back at him.
Jordan narrowed shrewd eyes. ‘Just not annoyed enough to leave?’
‘No!’
‘Fine.’ His mouth firmed as he finally stepped away from her, making her sigh inwardly in relief. ‘Have it your own way. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
It sounded more like a threat to Stephanie than a warning.
A threat of intent.
CHAPTER SIX
‘I’M GOING back to my study to work.’ Jordan reached for his cane to stand up from the table where they had just sat in total silence eating the warming soup.
It had been an uncomfortable silence. A silence full of awareness. Mental. Emotional. But most of all physical.
Jordan still had no explanation at to why he was even attracted to the determined and difficult physiotherapist. He had never been attracted to green-eyed redheads of medium height and medium build before now. He had certainly never found argumentative women in the least appealing.
Stephanie McKinley was all those things and more.
The ‘more’ being her mulish stubbornness in refusing to leave Mulberry Hall!
Well, just because she wouldn’t leave there was no reason for Jordan to have to stay in the same room as her. ‘I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon, but you can come and get me when dinner’s ready,’ he said autocratically as Stephanie stood up to clear the table.
‘Yes, My Lord.’ She turned to give him a mocking curtsy. ‘Certainly, My Lord.’
Jordan drew in a sharp breath even as his gaze narrowed on her suspiciously. He had assumed earlier that she knew nothing about the history of the St Claire family. She had certainly given no indication when they’d talked earlier that she had connected Jordan’s family with the Dukes of Stourbridge, or that she knew he really was a lord in truth.
There was no indication of that knowledge in Stephanie’s mischievous expression now, either—only a glint of mocking laughter in those expressive green eyes to go with that curtsy she had just given him.
Jordan relaxed. ‘If I really were a lord, and this were a few hundred years ago, then I would have put you out onto the streets to starve by now for your insolence.’
She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Then how lucky it is for me that the time of the feudal overlord is long gone.’
Perhaps someone should have mentioned that to Jordan’s older brother? Lucan was no more inclined to use his title than Jordan and Gideon were, but there was still no doubting that Lucan was every bit as arrogant as their aristocratic ducal forebears were reputed to have been!
‘Yes, lucky for you,’ Jordan agreed dryly. ‘As for dinner—I believe you said that eating a healthy diet was a necessary part of my treatment?’ he reminded her.
She smiled slightly. ‘Do I take it from that comment that it’s your intention to agree to accept only the parts of that treatment which suit you?’
‘Of course.’ He looked at her down his gorgeous nose.
Stephanie had never met anyone quite like Jordan St Claire.
Never before had she wanted to slap a man at the same time as she so desperately wanted to experience the passion of his kisses!
She sighed. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.’
‘You aren’t afraid at all, Stephanie,’ he contradicted her flatly.
He had no idea! ‘What work are you doing in your study?’
‘None of your damned business,’ Jordan said evenly.
So much for trying to change the subject to something less controversial!
The real problem for Stephanie was that even when they weren’t engaged in one of these irritating conversations she was still aware of everything about him. Even sitting down and eating lunch with him had been something of an ordeal in self-restraint.
She had found herself looking at Jordan’s hands far too often as he ate, easily able to remember those hands caressing her back earlier. Igniting that fire of longing inside her…
Oh, God! she thought, almost groaning aloud. Maybe she should just leave here, after all? Admit defeat and just go. Before she was tempted into doing something she would most definitely regret.
No, she couldn’t leave.
Between the two of them, Richard and Rosalind Newman had been making Stephanie’s life in London a living hell. She simply refused to let her awareness of Jordan force her into returning until Joey could assure her that particular nightmare was over.
‘Is there anything you want me to pass on to Lucan when I speak to him later this afternoon?’ She arched challenging brows.
Jordan scowled back at her. ‘I very much doubt that my big brother expects you to give him an hour-by-hour report on my progress.’
‘Or otherwise,’ she shot back.
‘Or otherwise,’ he confirmed
‘No, probably not,’ Stephanie accepted lightly. ‘But as I have nothing else to do this afternoon…’
Jordan knew the little minx was challenging him. Attempting to hold the threat of Lucan’s displeasure over him. A totally useless threat as far as Jordan was concerned. ‘I ceased being in awe of my brother the moment I realised that he has to go to the bathroom like the rest of humanity.’
She grimaced. ‘I really didn’t need that image, thank you very much!’
Jordan shrugged. ‘Believe me, it’s a good leveller in almost any circumstances.’
‘In Lucan’s case, it’s one I could well do without.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Jordan drawled. ‘I usually like to eat dinner about seven.’
‘When you bother to eat at all.’
He gave a mocking smile. ‘As you’ve insisted on staying here, I expect to eat regularly and often.’
Stephanie wasn’t totally sure which appetite Jordan was referring to, but she had her suspicions…
She had worked with dozens of patients over the last three years. Young. Old. Female as well as male. Some of them had been extremely difficult to work with, yes—those were the cases she specialised in, after all—but none of them had been as impossible as the man standing in front of her now.
Her mouth firmed. ‘At the risk of repeating myself—I am not here for your amusement.’