Tall, Dark & Scandalous. Кэрол Мортимер
Jordan pointed out. ‘Two brothers, both older than me, one by two years, the other by two minutes. End of story.’
‘What about your parents? Are they both still alive?’ Stephanie sipped her own wine more slowly.
‘Just my mother. She lives in Scotland,’ Jordan answered curtly.
Stephanie seemed to expect him to say more on the subject. But Jordan had no intention of saying any more. He wasn’t going to tell her that his mother, the Duchess of Stourbridge, was desperately awaiting the marriage of her eldest son so that she could step back and become simply the Dowager Duchess. That she was impatiently waiting for any of her sons to marry and provide her with the grandchildren she so longed for. As none of those three sons had ever had a permanent woman in his life, let alone thought of marriage, she was in for a very long wait indeed.
So instead Molly doted on her three sons. In fact if she had her way she would be down here right now, fussing over Jordan. Much as he loved and appreciated his mother, that was something he could definitely do without!
‘Your turn,’ he invited Stephanie dryly. ‘Start with your grandparents and work your way down,’ Jordan prompted as she hesitated.
She gave an awkward shrug. ‘I don’t usually discuss my private life with my patients.’
‘I thought we had agreed that I’m not your patient?’
‘Then what am I doing here?’
‘Who the hell knows?’ Jordan heard the aggression in his tone, and regretted it, but the wine was taking longer than usual to numb the pain this evening—to the point that he was gritting his teeth together so tightly he was surprised he could talk at all!
Stephanie gave him a reproving frown. ‘Very well. All four of my grandparents are still alive. As are both my parents. I—’
‘I wasn’t asking for a roll call,’ Jordan sighed. ‘Look, Stephanie, this is how it goes, okay? I ask you a polite question, you give me a pleasant answer. With details. Voilà—small talk.’
Stephanie knew what small talk was. She just didn’t have any patience for it. ‘My paternal grandparents moved to Surrey when my grandfather sold his construction business five years ago. My maternal grandparents live in Oxfordshire—my grandmother is a retired university professor, and simply couldn’t bring herself to move from the city where she had taught for so many years. My mother and father live in Kent and run a garden centre together.’
‘Better.’ Jordan nodded approvingly.
‘I have one sibling. Joey. She—’
‘Joey is a she?’
‘Short for Josephine,’ Stephanie supplied with a smile, relieved to see that some of the pained tension was starting to leave Jordan’s face. ‘But anyone calling her by that name had better be prepared to receive a black eye or worse!’
‘Worse?’
‘She put a frog down the shirt of a boy at school when he dared to tease her by chanting her full name,’ she remembered affectionately.
‘And the black eye?’
‘A man she dated for a while at university.’ Stephanie shrugged. ‘Needless to say they didn’t date again after that.’
‘No, I don’t suppose they did,’ Jordan chuckled softly as he felt his muscles starting to relax from the effects of the wine and the soothing firelight. ‘So how old is Joey and what does she do?’
‘She’s a lawyer.’
‘Aged…?’
‘Late twenties,’ Stephanie answered evasively before taking a sip of her own wine; she had known exactly where this conversation was going the moment Jordan asked to know about her family!
‘Older or younger than you?’
‘Slightly younger.’
Jordan gave her a considering glance, sensing there was something that Stephanie wasn’t telling him. ‘How much younger?’ he prompted slowly.
Her eyes glittered in the firelight as she glared across at him. ‘About five minutes!’
‘Why, Stephanie,’ Jordan murmured teasingly, ‘does this mean that you’re a twin, too?’
Her mouth thinned. ‘Yes.’
‘And are you identical?’
‘Yes.’
Jordan’s brows rose incredulously. ‘You mean there are two of you with that unusual red and cinnamon-coloured hair, those flashing green eyes, a determined chin and an infuriatingly stubborn temperament?’
Those green eyes instantly flashed. ‘I do not have a stubborn temperament!’
‘And the grass isn’t green or the sky blue,’ he retorted.
‘Sometimes they aren’t!’ she pointed out triumphantly.
‘I’m sure that once in a blue moon you aren’t stubborn, either,’ Jordan jeered. He gave her a considering look. ‘Let me guess—Joey has short red hair and tends to wear mainly dark business suits and silk blouses?’
Stephanie gasped. ‘How could you possibly know that?
Jordan shrugged. ‘For the same reason Gideon and I are completely unalike in our tastes—twin or not, no one really wants to be a clone of another person.’
‘But you and Gideon aren’t identical.’
‘In colouring, no,’ Jordan said. ‘But we’re the same height, and we have a similar facial structure.’ He smiled. ‘Maybe we should introduce your twin sister to my twin brother and see what happens? As they’re both lawyers they already have something in common.’
Stephanie knew exactly what would happen if the fiercely independent and outspoken Joey ever met either of Jordan’s arrogant older brothers: sparks would most definitely fly!
‘Perhaps not,’ Jordan acknowledged dryly, seeming to read her mind. ‘Much as they sometimes annoy the hell out of me, I’m not sure I would want to wish that onto either of my brothers.’
Stephanie bristled. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that having one stubborn McKinley sister around is more than enough for any man.’ He laughed huskily.
The wine had obviously relaxed Jordan. So much so that he was back to tormenting her. Making her less wary of his hair-trigger temper and more aware of the dizzying attraction of him that could be so utterly mesmerising.
Stephanie moistened dry lips as she stood up restlessly. ‘I think I’ll just go and check on dinner—’
Jordan reached out to grasp hold of her arm as she passed his chair, his fingers like steel bands about her wrist. ‘There’s nothing in the oven that will spoil, is there?’
She sincerely hoped that the sudden thundering of her heart at Jordan’s touch wasn’t echoed by the pulse beating beneath his fingers! ‘Not really.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I just thought—’
‘You think far too much, Steph. Why don’t you just allow yourself to feel for a change?’ he encouraged softly.
Stephanie was feeling too much already—that was the problem!
She could feel the strength of Jordan’s fingers curled about her flesh, the firm caress of his thumb against that rapidly beating pulse in her inner wrist, the heat of those gold-coloured eyes on her moist and parted lips, then moving lower to her rising and falling breasts. Holding her captive. Drawing her into the deep well of sensuality she could feel rising between them…
‘I believe I told you not to call me Steph,’ she murmured breathily.
‘Your lips have told me several things that