Tall, Dark & Scandalous: Jordan St Claire: Dark and Dangerous

Although he looked most unlike the unkempt man she had spent those two days with. When he’d appeared in the kitchen earlier this morning his long hair had been washed and brushed back from his face in silky dark waves, his jaw freshly shaven, once again revealing that fascinating—and sexy!—dimple in the centre of his chin, and he was wearing a pale brown cashmere sweater over a cream-coloured shirt and tailored brown trousers with brown shoes.

Today he looked every inch the charismatic actor Jordan Simpson—which was probably the whole point of the exercise, when he was about to see the mother the three St Claire men so obviously all adored.

Stephanie certainly felt decidedly underdressed in the company of the handsome St Claire twins, wearing her normal jeans and a white T-shirt beneath a short black jacket. Their arrival at St Claire House in Mayfair only confirmed her rapidly growing impression—after the grandeur of the Mulberry Hall estate and then flying around in a private helicopter—that she was completely out of her depth with this family. The townhouse itself was absolutely enormous: four storeys high, with a painted cream façade.

A stiffly formal butler opened the door to admit the three of them into the cavernous entrance hall.

‘Mr St Claire is in his study, and Her—Mrs St Claire is upstairs in her suite, resting,’ the grey-haired man politely answered Jordan’s query.

‘I’ll leave Lucan to you while I go up and see Mother,’ Jordan informed Gideon, and he took a firm hold on Stephanie’s elbow.

‘Thanks,’ his twin accepted dryly. ‘No doubt I’ll see you later, Stephanie.’ He quirked quizzical blond brows at her.

‘No doubt,’ she answered distractedly.

‘A tray of tea things upstairs for Miss McKinley, if you please, Parker,’ Jordan instructed the butler, before putting a hand beneath Stephanie’s elbow and escorting her to the back of the hallway, to open the two carved oak doors there and reveal a lift. ‘My grandmother had arthritis, and had it installed fifty years ago so that she could still go upstairs,’ he explained as they stepped inside the spacious mirror-walled lift.

Of course she had, Stephanie accepted ruefully; obviously the St Claire family was wealthy enough to do anything it chose.

Jordan easily read the look on her face as she stood against the opposite wall of the lift. ‘Don’t let all the grandeur of Mulberry Hall and here fool you—normally none of us step foot in either of these houses.’

‘Why on earth not?’ She frowned her curiosity.

It was a curiosity Jordan had no intention of satisfying. St Claire House, like Mulberry Hall, was part of the Duke of Stourbridge’s estate, and they were all only here now because their mother, still the Duchess of Stourbridge despite the divorce, always stayed at St Claire House on the rare occasions she came down to London.

‘We’re all too busy doing other things,’ Jordan dismissed evasively as he stepped out into the thick carpeted hallway on the third floor. ‘I’ll make you comfortable in my suite before I go and see my mother.’

‘Your…suite?’ Stephanie echoed hesitantly.

‘All the family have their own suite of rooms here.’ Jordan gave a brief smile at she hung back uncertainly. ‘Parker will bring you tea in my private sitting room. I expect the bedroom adjoining that has been prepared for your use. Is that going to be a problem?’

Stephanie had no idea—was it? It felt a little too intimate to have him next door. Entirely too close to him for comfort, in fact!

‘I would be quite happy with something a little less…grand.’ She frowned her discomfort.

‘There isn’t anything less grand,’ Jordan informed her dryly as he opened a door to the left of the hallway. ‘Come on, Stephanie,’ he encouraged impatiently. ‘I’d like to see you settled before I go and visit my mother.’

She was being ridiculous, Stephanie knew as she followed Jordan reluctantly. It just felt so very strange to be here with him and his family, in this grand house they rarely visited, but which was still run by what was no doubt an army of servants.

Who lived like this nowadays?

Only the very rich and the titled. Although not even too many titled families managed to live in such luxury nowadays, either, years of savage inheritance taxes having depleted their ranks and fortunes drastically.

The sitting-room, decorated in subtle tones of brown and cream, and furnished with heavy dark furniture, was very much in keeping with the luxury of the rest of this London townhouse.

‘There are some books over there if you feel like reading.’ Jordan indicated the shelves at the back of the room. ‘My bedroom and bathroom are through there.’ He pointed to a door to the right. ‘And your own bedroom is through there.’ He pointed to another door to the left.

Far, far too close for comfort, she recognised with a pained wince.

‘Cheer up, Stephanie,’ Jordan drawled as he saw the expression on her face. ‘With any luck we can both be out of here in a matter of days.’

Days?

It was the nights that bothered her!

How was she supposed to sleep here when she knew that Jordan’s bedroom was only feet away? Knew that the two of them were cosily ensconced in the complete privacy of his suite?

‘Stop looking so worried.’ Jordan leant his cane against the plush brown sofa before slowly crossing the room until he stood only inches away from her. He placed a gentle hand beneath her chin and raised her face up to his. ‘I’ll try to ensure this is as short a stay as possible.’

It had already been too long as far as Stephanie was concerned!

Jordan grimaced. ‘Wish me luck, hmm? I’m about to put on the performance of my life,’ he added ruefully.

Stephanie felt slightly breathless as she looked up searchingly into that rakishly handsome face, his close proximity having once again unnerved her. ‘You want your mother to believe you’re already completely recovered…’ she realised slowly.

‘I’m going to try to convince her of that, yes.’ He shrugged. ‘It’ll be one less thing for her to worry about.’

‘You aren’t going to do anything that could hinder your progress, are you?’

Jordan sighed. ‘Ever the physiotherapist, Stephanie?’

‘That’s probably because I am a physiotherapist!’ she defended hotly.

Although her traitorous body certainly had other ideas. Every part of her—every muscle, sinew and nerve-ending—was totally aware of Jordan as a man rather than as a patient. Of that hand still cupping her chin. Of the warmth of Jordan’s body as he stood so close to her. Of the sensuality in his warm amber-coloured gaze as it moved slowly across her slightly parted lips. The soft caress of his breath against her cheeks as his head began to lower towards hers…

Stephanie stepped back abruptly as she realised Jordan intended kissing her. ‘That is definitely not a good idea,’ she stated firmly.

Only just in time too, as a faint knock sounded on the outer door, announcing the entry of the butler with the tray of tea things Jordan had requested.

‘I’ll probably have lunch with my mother, but I’m sure Parker will bring you something up on a tray…’ Jordan looked expectantly at the butler as he straightened from placing the silver tray down on the low table in front of the sofa.

‘I would be happy to do so, Miss McKinley,’ the butler replied, before Stephanie even had chance to object to being waited on in this way.

She looked across at Jordan. ‘That really isn’t necessary…’

‘Just do it, Stephanie,’ Jordan said distractedly, and he left the suite, his thoughts obviously already with his mother.

Her own thoughts were in total disarray as Parker continued to treat her as if she were a guest, rather than just another employee, informing her that her bag had been safely delivered to the adjoining bedroom.

Stephanie felt totally out of place in this world of wealth and privilege that Jordan and his brothers seemed to take so much for granted. She was even less happy at being here when she remembered that she would have to telephone Joey and tell her she was now back in London if her sister needed to talk to her about the divorce case…

CHAPTER NINE

STEPHANIE felt slightly better once she had finished drinking the pot of Earl Grey tea and eaten a couple of biscuits to settle her stomach after the helicopter flight. In fact, she felt so much better that she must have dozed off for a while, because the next thing she knew Parker had returned with her lunch tray.

But the queasiness returned with a vengeance once Stephanie had eaten the delicious pasta dish and a bowl of fresh fruit and then dared to venture into the adjoining bedroom that Jordan had said was to be hers for the duration of her stay. It was a room dominated by a huge four-poster bed draped in the same gold brocade as the chair-covers and the curtains hanging at the long picture windows, which looked out onto the meticulously kept garden at the back of the house.

It was undoubtedly a beautiful room. The gold carpet was thick and luxurious, the walls papered in a pale cream silk, the light wood furniture Regency style—and no doubt, as with Mulberry Hall, all genuine antiques. The equally luxurious en-suite bathroom was of cream and gold-coloured marble, with gold fixtures and several thick cream towels warming on the stand beside the slightly sunken bath.

It was all very beautiful—and totally unsuitable for someone who was, after all, just an employee.

Stephanie left her bag unpacked on one of the brocade-covered chairs and hastily backed out of that luxurious bedroom. As soon as Jordan returned from visiting his mother she would have to tell him that she couldn’t stay here. That if he was really serious about wanting her professional help then she would prefer to go back to her own flat and simply visit him here every day.

In the meantime, grounding herself by chatting to Joey sounded like an excellent idea…

‘Has Jordan Simpson tried to seduce you into his bed yet?’ Joey questioned avidly, as soon as Stephanie’s call had been put through to her office.

Not into his bed, no…‘Don’t be ridiculous, Joey,’ she dismissed briskly.

‘And I had such high hopes, too!’

‘High hopes of what?’ Stephanie asked.

‘Of you not continuing to live the life of a nun!’

‘According to Rosalind Newman, I don’t.’

‘She’s just a vindictive woman!’ The scowl could be heard in Joey’s voice.

Stephanie sighed. ‘How are things going with the divorce case?’

‘Nothing new, I’m afraid.’ Her sister became her usual businesslike self. ‘Rosalind Newman is still insisting you had an affair with her husband, and Richard Newman is doing nothing to help the situation. It could get very messy, I’m afraid, Stephs,’ she added regretfully.

Exactly what Stephanie was trying to avoid. ‘Perhaps if we all met up and talked about it?’

‘Not a good idea,’ Joey advised. ‘Even if all three lawyers were there representing their clients, it would still likely end up in a slanging match.’

On a practical level Stephanie already knew that. She just didn’t know what else she could do to convince Rosalind Newman that she was being delusional about Stephanie’s personal involvement with her husband. It was complicated by the fact that Stephanie was convinced Richard Newman’s lack of support was because he was involved in an affair with another woman, and he’d rather Stephanie’s name was blackened than his actual mistress’s.

‘Just do your best to keep my name out of it, Joey,’ Stephanie said heavily.

‘And you try and come up with something more interesting to tell me the next time you call,’ her sister encouraged teasingly.

‘By “interesting” I take it you mean sexual?’ Stephanie came back dryly.

‘You’re with Jordan Simpson, sis,’ Joey said impatiently. ‘The man you’ve lusted after for years!’

The man she still lusted after, Stephanie thought. ‘He isn’t at all like I imagined he would be.’ He was so much more than she had expected, she admitted privately—a man who was drawing on every ounce of strength he had to get him through the worst moments of what she knew were excruciating agony.

‘In what way?’ Joey prompted curiously. ‘Surely you aren’t holding it against him because he’s behaving less like a movie star and more like a man who fell off the top of a building six months ago? Because if you are, then I hate to tell you this, Stephs, but the man did fall off a building six months ago!’

‘No, I’m not holding that against him.’ Stephanie chuckled wryly; she could always rely on Joey to make her laugh. ‘Joey…’ She deliberately lowered her voice. ‘You know those interviews he gives, where he mentions his parents’ divorce as being the reason he’s never married?’

‘Yes…’

‘Well, he’s really serious about it.’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘Which means—’

‘He wouldn’t be too happy if he were to learn that the physiotherapist his brother hired is up to her ears in another couple’s divorce?’ Joey finished, with her usual bluntness.

Especially considering what they’d done together yesterday evening in his study! Stephanie thought. ‘Perhaps I should try talking to Richard again?’

‘No, I’ll try,’ her sister insisted. ‘The man is definitely hiding something—or should I say someone?—but he seems more than happy to let you take the flak.’

Yes, Stephanie believed that too. If only the man weren’t so obnoxious then maybe they could have persuaded him into telling the truth. As it was…

‘Just call Richard and ask him if he will speak to me,’ Stephanie pressed.

‘Will do.’ Her sister rang off with her usual abruptness.

‘Care to explain who Richard is?’

Stephanie drew in her breath with a sharp hiss as she turned and saw that Jordan had come quietly back into the sitting room and now stood near the door, looking across at her with icily narrowed eyes. She stood up slowly to run her damp palms down her denim-clad thighs. ‘Didn’t you know that it’s rude to listen to other people’s telephone conversations?’

‘If I did then I obviously forgot,’ Jordan said unapologetically as he stepped further into the room.

The hours spent convincing his mother that he was well on the road to recovery had been just as much of a strain as Jordan had thought they might be. So much so that he was now exhausted. He had come back to his suite hoping for a rest before he had to go through the whole charade all over again at dinner. He certainly didn’t appreciate coming back into his suite of rooms and overhearing the end of Stephanie’s telephone conversation concerning some man called Richard that she was obviously desperate to get in touch with!

He eyed Stephanie coldly. ‘Well?’

‘I don’t see that this has anything to do with you—’

‘You told me you weren’t involved with anyone,’ he reminded her harshly.

‘I told you I wasn’t married or engaged,’ she corrected. ‘Which I’m not.’

‘But you obviously are involved with someone. Or at least you were!’

‘I—Are you okay, Jordan?’ Stephanie exclaimed as she saw how pale he was.

‘Do I look okay?’ he snapped scathingly as he swayed slightly on his feet.

‘No.’ She could clearly see the grey cast to his skin, and dark shadows under his eyes, deep lines grooved beside his mouth. ‘You need to take some painkillers and then lie down until they start to take effect. I’ll help you into your bedroom—’

‘I don’t need any help!’ He glared across at her.

She flinched at the vehemence in Jordan’s tone. ‘You obviously need to go to bed—’

‘Is that an invitation, Stephanie?’ he cut in. ‘If it is then I think I should warn you I’m really not up to making love to you right now, and I’m not exactly in the mood, either.’ Those gold eyes glittered down at her with cold satisfaction as Stephanie gave a pained gasp.

‘That’s enough, Jordan!’

Stephanie spun sharply round to find Lucan St Claire standing in the doorway, his austerely handsome face set in disapproving lines as he looked coldly across at his youngest brother.

The fact that the critical gaze wasn’t levelled at her made absolutely no difference to Stephanie; Jordan’s scornful remarks had made it more than obvious that he had made love to her before today!

Tears of mortification welled in her eyes. ‘If you will both excuse me?’ she choked emotionally, before hurrying into the bedroom she’d as yet had no opportunity to tell Jordan she couldn’t sleep in—tonight or any other night.

‘Well, that was pretty nasty even for you,’ Lucan said with disapproval as he closed the door behind him before striding further into the room.

‘I don’t remember asking for your opinion on my behaviour, Lucan,’ he muttered wearily.

His brother frowned. ‘It was possible to hear your raised voice all the way down the hallway.’

His mouth twisted derisively. ‘How utterly shocking!’

Lucan raised dark brows. ‘Exactly what is your relationship with Stephanie McKinley?’

‘You were the one who hired her.’ Jordan turned away abruptly and began walking painfully towards his bedroom.

‘That wasn’t what I asked.’

‘It’s all you’re going to get!’ Jordan snapped, as each step he took caused him excruciating agony.

‘Have you been to bed with her?’

Jordan came to a sudden and painful halt before slowly turning back to face his eldest brother. ‘Mind your own business,’ he bit out with slow precision.

‘I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?’ Lucan murmured speculatively.

Jordan glared. ‘You can take it any way you please.’

‘Oh, believe me, I will,’ Lucan said.

‘No doubt,’ Jordan muttered disgustedly.

His brother gave him an arrogant look. ‘That aside, I believe you owe Miss McKinley an apology—’

‘Like hell I do!’

‘You deliberately set out to insult her.’ Lucan gave him one of his superior looks.

Jordan knew exactly what he had done. He just wasn’t sure why he had done it…What difference did it make to him whether or not Stephanie was still panting after some man called Richard she had been involved with before the two of them had even met?

His eyes narrowed. ‘Tell me, Lucan—when you decided to hire her, did you do your usual check into her background?’

His brother looked unconcerned by the insult in Jordan’s tone. ‘Stephanie McKinley graduated top of her class—’

‘I meant her personal background,’ Jordan cut in impatiently.

‘I don’t believe her personal life is any of my concern. Nor,’ Lucan added softly, ‘if your lack of interest in her is genuine, should it be any of yours.’

No, it shouldn’t, Jordan acknowledged grudgingly. Except last night had made it so…

Damn it, he had thought Stephanie was different. Had hoped that she was. And all the time she had been in his arms she had been hankering for some man called Richard.

‘Unless it escaped your notice, Stephanie McKinley was crying when she ran out of here.’ Lucan’s mouth had thinned disapprovingly.

‘I noticed,’ Jordan admitted. ‘But we have much more important things to worry about than Stephanie’s hurt feelings, remember?’

‘Let’s deal with one problem at a time, hmm?’ Lucan insisted. ‘Your first priority is to apologise to Miss McKinley—’

‘For stating the truth?’

His brother looked implacable. ‘I didn’t hear her calling you a cruel and heartless louse, but at the moment that happens to be the truth, too.’

Jordan’s mouth compressed into a tight line. ‘Obviously Stephanie is much more restrained than I am. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Lucan?’ he added pointedly. ‘I need to go and lie down before I fall down.’

He didn’t wait for his brother to answer, but limped the rest of the way to his bedroom and all but slammed the door behind him before collapsing on the bed with a heartfelt sigh of relief.

Hours spent putting on an act for his mother had taken much more out of Jordan than he had expected. The conversation a few minutes ago with Stephanie even more so.

Did he owe her an apology?

Her private life was her business. A few kisses—okay, so it had been more than just a few kisses—didn’t entitle Jordan to know about every man she had ever slept with.

Damn it, Lucan was right; he did owe Stephanie an apology!

‘I’m sorry.’

Stephanie turned her head abruptly on the pillow as she looked across the room to where Jordan stood stiffly in the bedroom doorway. Swayed in the doorway, would actually be a better description of what he was doing. He leant heavily on his cane with one hand and held on to the doorframe with the other…

She sat up with a frown. ‘You should be in bed—’

‘I honestly don’t think I can make it back to my own bedroom,’ Jordan admitted ruefully as he staggered across the room and sank down gratefully on the side of her bed. ‘I’m not sure I even have enough energy left to lie down, let alone walk.’

Stephanie was pretty sure that he didn’t; his cheeks were hollow, eyes dark with pain, and his mouth was set in a grimly determined line. The same determination that had enabled him to get to her bedroom and no further…

She stood up hastily to move round to Jordan’s side of the bed. ‘Are you going to let me help you this time?’ She was hesitant about even touching him again after the way he had reacted earlier.

He gave a pained wince. ‘If you don’t then I’ll probably just slide onto the floor before passing out.’

Stephanie shook her head even as she took away his cane and slipped off his shoes, before helping him to lie back against the pillows and carefully swing his legs up onto the brocade bedcover. ‘You shouldn’t have strained yourself by even attempting to come in here.’

He glanced up at her. ‘Lucan seems to think I owe you an apology.’

Stephanie stilled. ‘Do you think you owe me an apology?’

‘I was out of line earlier,’ Jordan murmured honestly as he saw the way Stephanie’s gaze was avoiding meeting his.

‘Yes,’ she agreed flatly. ‘And, as I have no intention of explaining who Richard is, I think it would better for all concerned if I went back to my own flat now, and recommended someone else to take over your therapy.’

‘Lucan assures me that you’re the best there is,’ he said.

‘Even so…’

‘He also told me that your private life is none of our concern.’ Those gold eyes were narrowed guardedly.

‘Your brother is very—opinionated,’ Stephanie acknowledged dryly.

‘But he’s usually right,’ Jordan pointed out.

‘Perhaps.’ Stephanie nodded, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that Jordan felt the same way as Lucan. If he had continued to demand to know who Richard was, then it might have meant that he was genuinely interested in her himself. As it was, he had obviously decided, on his brother’s advice, that her private life was none of his business.

A complete change of subject was necessary. ‘How was your mother earlier?’

‘As bright and positive as she usually is.’ Jordan sighed heavily. ‘The two of us put on quite a show, I can tell you—my mother pretending she’s only here to shop, and me pretending that everything is going well with my recovery.’

Stephanie had yet to meet Molly St Claire, but she had no doubt that she would like her; she had to be quite something for the three formidable St Claire men to adore her in the way they obviously did. She also doubted, if Molly St Claire was as close to her sons as she appeared to be, that the other woman had been any more fooled by Jordan’s act of wellbeing than he had been fooled by hers…

‘You shouldn’t have tried to manage without your cane,’ Stephanie scolded again, as Jordan gave a low groan of pain when he tried to move his leg into a more comfortable position.

‘It’s never been as bad as this before,’ Jordan grated, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘The muscles in my leg seem to have seized up completely.’