To Be A Bridegroom

He had gone before Stazy had time to stop him. And it had been the internal bell. Which could only mean one person... Jordan had changed his mind about the decorating. Damn it. She needed that job. She certainly wasn’t about to crawl back home, having failed in what she set out to do. It was—

‘Jordan,’ Zak told her with a grin as he strolled back down the hallway, using the towel that had been draped about his neck to dry off his hair after his fifteen-minute shower.

‘Well?’ Stazy finally said when the tension of waiting for him to continue became too much for her; she had known it was Jordan, but what did he want?

Zak blinked innocent blue eyes. ‘I thought you were in a hurry to take your shower?’

‘I am,’ she ground out between gritted teeth. ‘What did Jordan want?’ As if she couldn’t guess.

She had regaled him on Saturday with those two tales of confusion concerning her profession, and now Zak had answered the door to him wearing only a towel—two towels, to be exact. Jordan probably thought she was a high-class call-girl!

‘Oh, that,’ Zak replied, unconcerned. ‘He said could you make it seven forty-five instead of seven-thirty? He’s only just got in from work, and he would like to take a shower.’

Jordan hadn’t changed his mind. Well, until Zak had opened the door to him a couple of minutes ago, wearing only a couple of towels, he hadn’t...

‘He isn’t the only one,’ she told Zak determinedly, grabbing the towel draped about his neck. ‘See you later.’ She closed the bathroom door firmly in his face.

A lot later, she hoped. With any luck Zak would have left for wherever he was going by the time she finished her own shower, leaving her to get ready to face Jordan in peace and quiet.

Quiet. It was something she had learnt to value the last three months. At home there had always been so much going on, people constantly around. But since she had moved here she had become used to doing what she wanted, when she wanted, and that included whether or not she spent time with others!

Though it had been the desire to be around people that had involved her in Jordan Hunter’s life on Saturday . . . !

But she had won herself a job from that. At least, she hoped she had.

It was seven forty-five exactly when Stazy rang the doorbell of the apartment next door. And she was, she hoped, dressed for the part, her pale blue blouse tucked neatly into the waistband of navy blue striped trousers. Businesslike, but the fitted style of the blouse and trousers was also feminine. After all, Saturday evening when she’d worn the clinging blue dress she had been out on a date; this evening was work.

Although she wasn’t too sure of that once Jordan had opened the door and invited her in, and she saw the dining-table set for two, with candles flickering on it, the other lighting in the room subdued.

‘I thought we could eat first,’ Jordan told her lightly as she frowned across the table. ‘Unless you’ve already eaten?’ he enquired at her dismayed expression.

No, she hadn’t already eaten, had been too nervous. She’d thought she would make herself a sandwich or something after she got back. Food was something else she didn’t have to worry about too much now that she lived on her own; there were no rigid times for meals any more, there was no one else to answer to...

She might not have eaten yet this evening, but sitting down to a candlelit meal with Jordan Hunter was hardly businesslike! Especially as he looked more handsome than ever tonight, wearing a black shirt and fitted denims.

‘Don’t look so worried,’ he teased. ‘This isn’t another variation of the little boy and his bedroom theme! And I can see for myself that you aren’t wearing red underwear! ’ Those golden eyes looked at her assessingly.

Stazy looked down self-consciously at her blouse. It was made of silky material, not exactly see-through, but a red bra would certainly be visible through the lightcoloured material. And Jordan had taken the time to notice that fact in the two minutes since she’d entered his apartment!

That and the candlelit dinner were what bothered her.

Jordan laughed softly as she still looked reluctant. ‘It’s just a Chinese takeaway,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll blow out the candles and turn up the lights if you would feel more comfortable?’

She was being silly. It was only a meal. And they could discuss some of her ideas as they ate. ‘No, this is fine,’ she told him briskly, putting down the list of ideas she had brought in with her. ‘I’ll help you serve the food.’

It wasn’t ‘just’ a takeaway as Stazy knew it: chicken noodle soup first, followed by three Chinese meat dishes, with bamboo shoots and rice, and to follow there was sticky-toffee bananas and apples. Jordan opened a bottle of deliciously cool, crisp white wine to go with it.

‘I’m too full to work now I’ve finished this,’ Stazy warned Jordan as he made them coffee.

He sat back down in the chair opposite hers. ‘I owe you an apology for Saturday evening. I behaved very badly—’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ Stazy protested. ‘I had a good time.’

‘Is that why you left so suddenly?’ Jordan returned quickly. ‘Because you were having such a good time?

No, that had been for another reason completely. She had thought back to Saturday evening a couple of times during yesterday and today, and she had almost decided she must have been mistaken about the man she had thought she’d seen at the reception. Almost...

‘Jarrett explained to me that marriages tend to make you uptight,’ she replied easily.

‘Did he indeed?’ Jordan murmured dryly. ‘I see you have a house-guest,’ he added softly.

He caught her completely off-guard with this sudden change of subject!

She had been in the process of sipping her coffee, but she almost choked on it at that moment. She certainly didn’t need to ask whom Jordan was referring to!

‘Zak can be hard to get rid of,’ she acknowledged frankly.