Free Jordan St Claire: Dark and Dangerous by Carole Mortimer Page B

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 thatmy 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.’
    ‘Repeat yourself all you like, Stephanie,’ he said. ‘The only things you can do for me at the moment arefeed me or amuse me. I’ll leave it up to you which one you want to do at any given time …’
    Stephanie stared at him furiously for several seconds. ‘Oh, just go away, will you?’ she finally huffed irritably. In all of her daydreams, all her fantasies about actually meeting Jordan Simpson, Stephanie had never once imagined herself telling him to go away!
    ‘I’ll take that to mean that you want time to think about what to cook me for dinner,’ Jordan said.
    Stephanie shot him another frowning glare, only breathing a sigh of relief once he had left the kitchen. She heard the sound of him whistling tunelessly to himself as he walked down the corridor and then shut the study door behind him seconds later.
    There
had
to be a way for Stephanie to get through to Jordan—to make him accept the professional help Lucan had hired her for. She just had no idea what it was!
    ‘Comfortable?’ Jordan asked sarcastically later that evening, as he entered the sitting room to find her curled up comfortably in one of the armchairs, the only illumination in the room coming from the warm and crackling fire she had lit in the hearth.
    ‘Very, thank you,’ she answered, and she sat up to swing her bare feet slowly to the floor, still wearing the dark green sweater and fitted jeans she had changed into earlier. ‘It isn’t seven o’clock yet, is it?’
    Jordan’s jaw tightened, and his eyes hooded to conceal their expression as he took in how the firelight picked out every amazing colour in Stephanie’s plaited hair. ‘I’ve worked long enough for now. How was your afternoon?’ He leant heavily on his cane as he came further into the room, the pain in his hip and leg fromsitting down all afternoon making his tone harsher than he’d intended.
    ‘Boring,’ she admitted.
    He raised dark brows. ‘Boring?’
    She gave a shrug. ‘I’m simply not used to sitting around all day having nothing to do.’
    Boredom was something that Jordan knew a lot about, after the weeks he had spent in hospital in the States before coming here. ‘There’s lots of books in here you could have read. Or you could have gone for another walk. Or another