‘I don’t need a physiotherapist—’
‘Oh, yes you do—’
‘And we didn’t go anywhere near a bed,’ Jordan continued coldly.
He just wasn’t getting this, Stephanie realised impatiently. And why should he? Gideon was his brother, and if his closeness to his twin was anything like her own to Joey, then Jordan felt none of the awkwardness at his brother’s intrusion into their lovemaking that Stephanie did. But then, he wasn’t the one who had totally lost control. Who had screamed in ecstasy as he found release—
Oh, God, Jordan’s hands had been all over her body! In her body!
Stephanie sat down abruptly in one of the armchairs, putting her hands completely over the heat of her face as she felt the tears well up before falling hotly down her cheeks.
Jordan stared down in utter frustration at Stephanie’s bent head as he heard her quiet sobs, having absolutely no idea what he should do or say next. In his experience women didn’t usually cry after he had made love to them!
They didn’t usually cry after they had made love with world-famous actor Jordan Simpson, he reminded himself grimly; the crippled, useless Jordan St Claire was obviously something else entirely. Someone else entirely!
God, how he hated feeling so damned helpless. So unlike himself. It was—
‘I’ve been thinking…’
Jordan turned fiercely at the sound of his brother’s voice. ‘Get out of here, Gideon!’
‘That I’m probably an unwanted third,’ his brother finished unhurriedly, and gave a pointed look in the direction of the obviously upset Stephanie. ‘I can easily book into the pub in the village for the night and come back in the morning.’
‘No!’ Stephanie looked up to protest, hastily drying her cheeks as she stood up. ‘Of course you mustn’t leave, Mr St Claire—’
‘Gideon,’ he invited coolly. ‘Mr St Claire makes me sound too much like my older brother.’
‘Whatever,’ she dismissed uncomfortably. ‘You have as much right to stay here as Jordan does. I’m the one who should leave.’
‘Oh, I doubt my baby brother would be too happy about that,’ Gideon said, after a swift glance in Jordan’s direction.
The two brothers were like two sides of a negative, Stephanie suddenly realized: Jordan’s hair was long and dark, whereas his brother’s was the colour of gold and styled ruthlessly short. Jordan’s eyes were the same gold as his brother’s hair, and Gideon’s eyes were so dark and hard they appeared almost black. And the contrast in the way they were dressed was just as extreme. Jordan’s clothes were casual; Gideon St Claire wore tailored black trousers and a black cashmere sweater over a grey shirt unbuttoned at the throat, his black leather shoes obviously handmade.
They were also two of the most devastatingly handsome men Stephanie had ever set eyes on!
‘You’re right. He wouldn’t like that,’ Jordan answered his brother. ‘Let’s get the introductions over with and go on from there, shall we?’ he suggested. ‘Stephanie, meet my brother Gideon St Claire. Gideon, this is Stephanie McKinley.’
Stephanie didn’t know quite what to make of the fact that he didn’t add anything else to his introduction to explain what she was actually doing there. Although she didn’t feel too inclined to explain what she was doing there to the haughty Gideon St Claire, either, after the intimacy of the scene he had walked in on only minutes ago!
‘Mr St Claire,’ she said with a stiff nod.
‘Miss McKinley,’ he murmured, his features every bit as hard and chiselled as his twin’s.
Stephanie had no doubt this cynically tough man was a formidable lawyer. She would have to ask Joey if she had ever met him in court…
‘McKinley…?’ Gideon St Claire repeated slowly, his dark gaze narrowing on her in shrewd assessment. ‘Red hair. Green eyes. Hmm.’ His mouth compressed. ‘You wouldn’t happen to be related to Josephine McKinley, would you?’ he asked.
Oh, dear Lord! Stephanie’s sister and this man had met. But when? And where? Please, please, God, let it not be in any way connected with the Newmans’ pending divorce case!
Just thinking of Jordan’s reaction if he learned that she was being named as the ‘other woman’ in a divorce—albeit falsely—after the disgust he had shown for his own father’s infidelity, was enough to make her feel ill.
‘Her twin.’ Jordan was the one to answer his brother—economically. ‘And apparently she hates to be called Josephine,’ he added.
‘Do you know my sister, Mr St Claire?’ Stephanie eyed Gideon warily.
‘Not personally, no,’ he said. ‘I have heard of her, though,’ he added.
And nothing good, either, if the hard glitter in those piercing dark eyes and the contemptuous curl of those sculptured lips was any indication!
Stephanie knew that Joey had earned herself something of a reputation in the courts of law these last three years, and that many of her colleagues considered her to be ruthless and uncompromising in defence of her clients. Character traits Stephanie would have thought a man like Gideon St Claire, who so obviously possessed those same traits himself, would have appreciated.
‘What are you doing here, Gideon?’ Jordan demanded—and thankfully saved Stephanie from having to make any sort of reply to his twin’s enigmatic comment about her sister!
Instead of answering his brother, Gideon turned those cool, dark eyes on Stephanie. ‘I thought I smelt something burning when I was in the kitchen…’
‘The lasagne!’ Stephanie wailed as she remembered the food she had left cooking in the oven earlier. Before Jordan had begun making love to her and she had forgotten all about it! ‘Excuse me.’ She shot the two men a bright, meaningless smile before hurrying from the room.
It was patently obvious that Gideon wanted to talk to Jordan alone, and Stephanie was glad of an excuse to escape the intensity of emotion in being in the presence of two of the arrogantly overwhelming St Claire brothers.
‘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.’