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‘Well, you’ve succeeded in effectively getting Stephanie out of the room, so now you can tell me what’s going on,’ Jordan prompted as soon as he and Gideon were alone in the sitting room.
Gideon gazed back at him with the cynical speculation that was so characteristic of him. So typical of all three of the St Claire brothers, if he were totally honest, Jordan acknowledged ruefully; their father really did have a lot more to answer for than just hurting their mother.
Gideon gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘And I’ve been imagining you all alone in the wilds of Gloucestershire.’
Jordan grimaced. ‘I know your sarcasm usually manages to put the fear of God into most people, Gid, but I assure you I’m not one of them.’ He dropped wearily back into the armchair he had only recently vacated.
‘You look like hell!’ his brother declared as he looked down at him with harsh disapproval.
‘As complimentary as ever,’ Jordan murmured, and rested his head tiredly against the chair.
He had forgotten all about the pain in his hip and leg—just as Stephanie had obviously forgotten about dinner—while the two of them were making love, but now that that rush of adrenaline had subsided Jordan once again felt the grinding and remorseless ache in his right thigh and down his leg.
Maybe he should go back to the States and see one of the specialists, as Stephanie had advised he should do?
No, damn it. He would rather live with the pain than suffer any more of those unhelpful medical examinations!
‘Have they run out of razors in Gloucestershire?’ Gideon raised enquiring brows.
‘Just tell me what you’re doing here, Gideon,’ Jordan said again irritably, wondering why the hell it was that everyone was suddenly so obsessed with his appearance. What did it matter what he looked like when there was no one here to see him? Well…until Stephanie had arrived yesterday. And now Gideon, too. ‘Well?’ He glared at his brother.
‘I certainly had no intention of interrupting your little assignation with La McKinley,’ his brother retorted as he moved to fold his lean length into the chair opposite Jordan’s.
‘It isn’t an assignation,’ Jordan denied wearily.
‘No?’
‘Look at me, Gideon.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’m just a shell of the man I used to be.’
‘Stephanie doesn’t seem to mind,’ his brother pointed out.
Jordan’s eyes narrowed warningly. ‘Perhaps we should just leave Stephanie out of this.’
Gideon glanced in the direction of the kitchen. ‘She doesn’t seem like your usual type of woman…’
‘As I just said, I’m not my usual self!’ Jordan snapped back.
‘Aren’t you a little tired of wallowing in self-pity?’ Gideon asked.
That remark was so reminiscent of the one Stephanie had made to Jordan yesterday that it totally infuriated him. In fact, if Gideon had been anyone else Jordan knew he would have given in to the urge he felt to get up and punch him on his arrogant nose! As it was, he knew that Gideon was more than capable of besting him in any fight at the moment—verbal or physical.
Not that Jordan was fooled for a moment by Gideon’s seemingly hard and unsympathetic attitude; as his brother—his twin—Jordan knew how devastated Gideon had been following the accident. He also knew that his brother was a man of strong emotions—he just preferred to keep them hidden most of the time, behind a mask of cynicism.
‘Just stop trying to annoy me and get on with it, Gid,’ he said.
Thankfully Stephanie had managed to salvage the lasagne from the oven before it was totally ruined. A little trimming round the edges had disposed of the worst of the burnt pasta, and the potatoes were still edible too.
By the time the two St Claire men joined her in the kitchen ten minutes later she had laid three places at the table and was ready to serve the food. Whether or not Stephanie would actually be able to sit down with them and eat any of it was another matter entirely!
The ten minutes’ respite from both Jordan’s disturbing company and that of his coldly remote brother had at least given Stephanie a chance to regain some of her composure, although she still felt ill every time she so much as thought of making love with Jordan.
Or, more accurately, Jordan making love to her.
She wasn’t a complete innocent when it came to love-making; she had dated and experimented a little when she was at university and found it all extremely disappointing. So much so that Stephanie had spared little time for relationships since then, and had concentrated on her career instead. Her physical response to Jordan had been far from disappointing—in fact it had been as combustible as it had been instantaneous. She had never dreamed, never imagined—not even in her wildest fantasies—the pleasure she had felt when Jordan made love to her.
Which was traumatic enough in itself, without having Jordan’s coldly cynical twin—the man of whom Jordan had warned Stephanie she didn’t know what arrogance was until she’d met him—as witness to that complete physical unravelling.
Not that there was any evidence of that knowledge in the remoteness of Gideon’s expression now, as he entered the kitchen behind Jordan. ‘I apologise once again for causing you any inconvenience, Stephanie,’ he said politely as he saw the three places laid at the table.
‘Not at all,’ she dismissed brightly. ‘After all, your family owns this estate. Now, there’s more than enough food here for three—Are you all right, Jordan?’ she asked with concern, as she noticed how pale he was. Worse than pale. His cheeks actually had a slightly grey cast to them. And was it her imagination or did he seem to be leaning more heavily on his cane than usual?
Was it as a result of having made love to her?
Jordan might be sarcastic and mocking, but he was also obviously still far from well—something that any excess of physical activity was sure to exacerbate. Making love could definitely be classed as excessive physical activity—especially as she’d been cuddled up on his lap!
She moved swiftly to his side. ‘Perhaps you should sit down—’
‘Would you stop fussing over me like some mother hen?’ He turned on her savagely, eyes glittering deeply gold in warning.
Stephanie drew back sharply at his tone. ‘Sorry.’ She grimaced. ‘I just thought—’
‘Haven’t I already told you that you think too damned much?’ He scowled down at her.
‘I trust you will excuse my brother’s rudeness, Stephanie?’ Gideon cut into the exchange with disapproving coldness. ‘The discomfort of his injuries seems to have robbed him of his manners.’
‘When I want you to apologise for me, Gid, I’ll ask!’ Jordan said furiously.
‘When I want you to tell me what to do and when to do it, then I’ll ask, Jord,’ his brother came back with heavy sarcasm.
At any other time Stephanie would have found this challenging conversation between two obviously well-matched and determined men amusing. But as she had earlier almost made love with one of them, and been literally caught in the act by the second, Stephanie wasn’t in any frame of mind at that moment to find anything either of them did in the least amusing!
Especially when Jordan already looked as if he were on the point of collapse…‘I really think you should sit down, Jordan,’ she told him firmly, and she pointedly drew back one of the kitchen chairs before looking up at him expectantly.
Jordan shot her a narrow-eyed glare, more aware than ever of his own limitations when in the company of his brother’s lean and healthy frame. Just as he was aware of the appraising looks Gideon was giving Stephanie as he watched her from beneath hooded lids…
Jordan slowly lowered himself down onto the wooden chair. ‘Pack your bag once we’ve had dinner, Stephanie,’ he told her tersely as he turned to place his cane conveniently against the wall behind him. ‘Gideon is going to fly us all back to London in the helicopter early tomorrow morning.’
‘I—What…?’ Stephanie made no effort to hide her total bewilderment at Jordan’s sudden announcement.
‘We’re all going back to London. In the morning,’ Jordan repeated with ill-concealed impatience.
‘But what about my car?’
‘I’ll arrange for someone to come and collect it,’ he dismissed.
‘But—why…?’
‘Does it matter why?’ Jordan snapped.
‘Well…no, I suppose not…’ Stephanie gave a slightly dazed shake of her head.
Except that Stephanie didn’t want to be back in London; she had taken this job in Gloucestershire with Jordan St Claire for the very reason that she had wanted to get away from London and stay away—until her unwilling involvement in the Newmans’ impending divorce had been effectively dealt with!
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘WHAT is it, Stephanie?’
She stood hesitantly in the doorway of the study, where Jordan once again sat behind the imposing desk looking at her with enigmatic eyes. The only light in the room came from the lamp on top of the desk, reflecting down onto the papers he was working on.
As expected, as far as Stephanie was concerned, sitting down and eating dinner with the St Claire brothers had been an uncomfortable experience. She had absolutely no idea how the two men had felt about it. Conversation had been virtually non-existent as they’d both eaten in brooding silence, obviously lost in their own thoughts. Although Gideon had politely thanked and complimented Stephanie on the food once they had all finished eating, before excusing himself and going upstairs to bed.
Stephanie had a feeling his early departure might have had more to do with feeling that ‘unwanted third’ he’d mentioned than an actual need to go to bed. He had probably retired early because he thought that Jordan and Stephanie needed some privacy—if only to discuss leaving tomorrow.
If that were the case, then Gideon could have saved himself the trouble. Because Jordan had abruptly excused himself too, and disappeared off to his study only a minute or so after his brother’s departure. Leaving Stephanie with far too much time on her hands to remember and cringe at her earlier behaviour…
She gave a non-committal shrug now. ‘As you intend leaving with Gideon in the morning, it might be as well if we were to say goodbye now.’
Jordan straightened to narrow his speculative gaze on her. ‘I’m sure I made it more than plain that I expect you to accompany us to London.’
‘Yes, you did.’ Stephanie stepped further into the room. ‘But you’ve also made it clear since my arrival here that you don’t want the attentions of a physiotherapist. As such, this would be the ideal opportunity for me to—’
‘Have you been thinking again, Stephanie?’ he taunted softly as he relaxed back against the leather chair.
‘Stop it, Jordan!’ She eyed him cautiously as she moved to stand in front of the desk. ‘Obviously I will need to contact Lucan and let him know that as I never actually started working with you I won’t be requiring any payment—’
‘I’m sure that’s very fair of you, Stephanie,’ Jordan cut in. ‘But as far as I’m aware Lucas has not yet suggested dispensing with your services.’
‘No.’ She sighed. ‘But it’s been pretty much a nonstarter from the beginning, so I assumed—’
‘It never pays to make assumptions about the St Claire family, Stephanie.’ Jordan shook his head even as his mouth thinned. ‘When I said we’re all going back to London in the morning, Stephanie, that’s exactly what I meant.’
She frowned. ‘I can’t see what possible point there would be in accompanying you when you refuse to let me do anything to help you.’
‘Maybe I’ve reconsidered?’
Stephanie looked across at him searchingly, but found herself unable to read anything from Jordan’s deliberately closed expression and the enigmatic blankness in those gold-coloured eyes. ‘Jordan—’
‘Stephanie, Gideon flew here to let me know that my mother has arrived in London,’ Jordan announced flatly.
‘Oh?’
‘Yes,’ he bit out curtly. ‘As she rarely leaves Edinburgh, that fact is significant in itself. So much so that Lucan decided to try and find out exactly why she’s in London. He’s managed to discover that she has an appointment to see a cancer specialist the day after tomorrow.’ Jordan spoke heavily, still having trouble accepting the reason Gideon had flown up here in person to talk to him.
The three brothers’ relationship with their father had been sporadic at best after their parents’ separation and divorce, with none of them in any doubt as to who was to blame for the breakdown of the marriage. But their mother—their mother had always been there for all of them. Molly loved without wanting to possess, without judging. She never pushed. She cajoled. She never forced her own views onto any of her sons but instead encouraged them to make their own decisions and choices. And if any of those choices should be the wrong ones then she was there for them. Always.
Now it was time for them to be there for her…
‘I’m so sorry.’ Stephanie had moved to sit down on a chair on the opposite side of the desk.
‘Nothing’s certain yet,’ Jordan said. ‘It’s a preliminary examination and may amount to nothing.’
‘But…’
‘Exactly. But…’ He nodded grimly. ‘Strange, isn’t it?’ he mused. ‘How learning that someone you love may be seriously ill can shake you out of what Gideon—and incidentally you too—call wallowing in self-pity!’
Stephanie’s cheeks coloured hotly. ‘I only said that because—’
‘Because it happens to be the truth,’ Jordan said honestly as he stood to pick up his cane and begin restlessly pacing the room. ‘My mother was the first member of the family to arrive in LA when I had my accident. She stayed at my bedside the whole time I was in hospital, and then again at my apartment for weeks afterwards. Always encouraging. Always positive. And all the time this damned thing was eating away at her.’
‘You said nothing is certain yet,’ Stephanie reminded him softly as she watched him pace.
‘It’s enough that the possibility is there.’ Jordan’s expression became even grimmer. ‘We’re going back to London tomorrow, Stephanie, and once we know exactly what’s happening with my mother you’re going to help me get my full health back.’
Stephanie couldn’t have been more pleased that Jordan was at last willing to consider therapy on his leg and hip—although she might have wished the circumstances for making his decision had been different—but she was no longer sure she was the person to help him do it.
She had allowed herself to become personally involved with Jordan. More than just personally involved with him on a physical level. She didn’t even want to think about what she might feel for him on an emotional one!
Except, she realised, that she already felt something…
Later, Stephanie, she instructed herself firmly. There would be plenty of opportunity once she and Jordan had said goodbye for her to analyse her feelings for him.
‘That’s wonderful, Jordan,’ she said with approval. ‘I’m more than happy to recommend another physiotherapist to you.’
‘I don’t want another physiotherapist, damn it!’ Jordan growled as he came to stand in front of her. ‘Stephanie?’ He bent down slightly to place a hand beneath her chin and tilt her face up to his. ‘Look at me!’ he barked as her gaze avoided meeting his.
Stephanie looked up, and then as quickly glanced away again as she found herself unable to meet the intensity of that golden gaze. She shook her head. ‘You must see—understand—that I can’t possibly work with you now, Jordan.’ Just the touch of his fingers against her chin was enough to reawaken all that earlier arousal. She longed for his hand to be touching more than her chin…
‘Are you asking for my word that what happened earlier won’t happen again?’ he rasped. He shook his head. ‘I can’t give that. Can you?’
She moistened dry lips before answering him huskily, ‘No. Which is my whole point,’ she continued, before Jordan could comment. ‘I can’t possibly work with a man I’ve—A man who—’ Stephanie groaned. She couldn’t even say the words. ‘I don’t get personally involved with my patients, Jordan.’
He frowned down at her, making no effort to hide his frustration with her continued stubbornness.
Having made his decision to stop wallowing and actually do something about his leg, he wasn’t willing to simply let Stephanie recommend someone else and then walk away from him.
Lucan only ever employed the best person there was for any particular job—which meant that Stephanie McKinley had to be the best physiotherapist the St Claire millions could buy. If Jordan was going to get back on both his feet, then the best was what he needed.
And it was all that he needed from Stephanie right now…
He released her chin abruptly and stepped back. ‘I don’t believe we are personally involved.’
She blinked. ‘But earlier—’
‘Forget earlier,’ he advised icily. ‘It never happened. I’ve just been playing with you,’ he added. ‘From now on we’ll concentrate on what you really came here to do.’
Forget earlier. It never happened. I’ve just been playing with you…
It was the last of those statements that hurt Stephanie the most. Because she knew it was the truth? Or because it was already too late for her not to be emotionally involved with him?
A lot of good it would do her if she were!
At the moment Jordan St Claire was a man who had become out of touch with his real charming self as well as the life he had led before the accident. The A-list actor Jordan Simpson wouldn’t even have looked at Stephanie McKinley twice. In fact he probably wouldn’t have bothered looking at her once! And when Jordan was back on two healthy legs—
‘Are you going to help me or not, Stephanie?’
He wouldn’t look at her again, Stephanie finished with painful honesty.
She had initially taken this job with absolutely no doubt as to her professional ability to help Lucan St Claire’s brother. The fact that the brother had turned out to be Jordan Simpson had complicated things from the beginning. That Stephanie’s attraction to him had allowed things between them to go as awry as they had was more than a complication.
So, was she now going to let her emotions stand in the way of giving Jordan the help he needed? Was she going to deny him that help when he had finally asked her for it?
Stephanie knew she couldn’t do that. Her professional dedication simply wouldn’t allow it.
‘Yes, Jordan, I’m sure I can help you.’ She nodded as she stood up. She only hoped it was true. Just as she hoped that she could put away her personal feelings for this man and concentrate on helping him regain full health. ‘Although I’m not too sure about flying to London in a helicopter,’ she added with a grimace. She found flying in a normal plane traumatic enough, so goodness knew how she would feel in a flimsy helicopter.
He chuckled softly. ‘We’ll be quite safe with Gideon—he flies the same way he does everything. With icy reserve,’ he supplied as Stephanie gave him a curious glance.
‘I thought his earlier coolness was because he disapproved of me.’ After all, he’d had reason enough to disapprove after the scene he had almost walked in on!
‘No.’ Jordan gave a humourless smile. ‘You’re no exception to the rule, Stephanie—Gideon makes a point of disapproving of everyone.’
The three St Claire men were totally different from any other men she had ever met, Stephanie mused minutes later as she made her way up the stairs to bed. Lucan was cold and arrogant. Gideon icily reserved. Jordan—
Perhaps she had better not think any more about what sort of man Jordan was!
She especially shouldn’t think about his recent admission that he had just been playing with her earlier on…
Jordan was seated in the front of the helicopter beside Gideon as they took off. Instinct alone made him glance back at Stephanie, only to realise that she had a death-grip on the arms of her own seat, her short fingernails digging into the leather.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked with concern.
She didn’t even glance at him but continued to stare straight ahead, her eyes wide in a face that was completely devoid of colour, her jaw clenched as she spoke between gritted teeth. ‘Fine.’
‘No, you’re not,’ Jordan contradicted flatly as he undid his seat-belt. ‘Keep it steady, Gideon,’ he warned as he began to climb into the back.
‘What are you doing?’ Stephanie’s expression was one of complete panic as Jordan’s movements redistributed the weight and made the helicopter tilt slightly from side to side.
‘Coming to sit next to you,’ Jordan explained patiently as he sat down and buckled himself into the seat. Then he reached out and prised the fingers closest to him from the armrest, before taking Stephanie’s hand firmly into his own. ‘You don’t like flying.’ He stated the obvious.
‘Hate it!’ she muttered as her fingers tightened painfully about his. ‘No criticism of your capabilities intended, Gideon,’ she added shakily.
‘None taken, I assure you,’ he drawled confidently from the front of the aircraft.
Jordan ignored his brother’s insouciance and concentrated on Stephanie. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me you don’t like flying?’
She flashed him a green-eyed glare before hastily resuming her death-stare towards the front of the helicopter. ‘I did tell you last night that I wasn’t sure about flying in a helicopter!’
‘Not sure and terrified are two distinctly different things!’
‘What difference would it have made if I had been more forceful about it?’ she snapped.
‘We could have let Gideon fly back on his own and driven down.’
Stephanie shook her head, and then obviously regretted it as even her lips seemed to go white. ‘You needed to get to London as quickly as possible.’ Her jaw was once again tightly clenched.
Jordan scowled. ‘If it had been that urgent then we would have flown down last night. You—’
‘Leave the girl alone, Jordan,’ Gideon rapped out from the front of the plane. ‘Can’t you see she feels ill?’
Jordan could see that all too easily. He was furious with himself for not realising how nervous Stephanie was about flying—preferably before the helicopter had taken off!
His fingers tightened about hers. ‘You’re an idiot for not telling me.’
‘Thank you so much for that, Jordan,’ Stephanie snarled back. ‘Comments on my mental state are just what I want to hear when I’m hanging hundreds of feet from the ground in a helicopter that looks as if a brisk wind might blow it out of the sky!’
Gideon chuckled softly in the pilot seat. ‘No need to worry, Stephanie. The accident record in this type of helicopter is minimal, I assure you.’
‘Minimal, maybe,’ she gritted out through her teeth. ‘But not non-existent.’
‘I suggest you keep any more helpful information like that to yourself, Gid,’ Jordan said.
‘I could always turn back—’
‘No!’ Stephanie shuddered at the mere thought of Gideon turning the helicopter, let alone landing it on the helipad behind Mulberry Hall.
‘But if this really is a problem for you, Stephanie…?’ Jordan frowned, clearly not happy.
‘We’re in the air now,’ she said tautly, her fingers curled so tightly about Jordan’s that she was sure she must be cutting off the blood supply to his own fingers. ‘I’ll just make a mental note to myself to never, ever fly in a helicopter again!’
Stephanie was grateful for having Jordan’s hand to hold during the rest of the flight, but even so, by the time they landed at the private airfield a few miles outside London, where the St Claire helicopter was obviously parked when not in use, she was aching from head to toe from the pure tension of just getting through the flight. Even her teeth ached as she staggered thankfully down onto the tarmac and all but fell into the chauffeur-driven car that was waiting for them to arrive.
‘All right now?’ Jordan prompted gently as he climbed into the back beside her, while Gideon sat in the front with the chauffeur, the glass partition raised to give them privacy.