Jordan St Claire: Dark and Dangerous. Кэрол Мортимер

that it actually hurt as he imagined stripping those figure-hugging jeans from her shapely bottom and thighs, sliding her panties down her long legs before releasing himself, pushing her back against one of the kitchen cabinets and sinking his fullness into her hot and welcoming warmth!

      Jordan wanted to do those things so badly—wanted to hear Stephanie McKinley screaming in ecstasy rather than bloody murder—and he could feel the sweat dampening his forehead as he fought against giving in to that impulse.

      This physical response to her—the second in an hour or so—had to be because Jordan had been too long without a woman in his bed. With that long red hair, impishly attractive face, and slender if curvaceous body, she wasn’t in the least his type, damn it!

      Jordan’s gaze was deliberately mocking as he looked down into her overheated face. ‘You just might have been amusing to have around, after all, Stephanie.’

      She arched dark brows. ‘Might have been?’

      ‘Hmm.’ He deliberately moved away from her to limp across the room and pick up his cane. ‘Despite your pert little breasts and curvaceous bottom, I still want you out of here,’ he bit out contemptuously.

      Stephanie eyed him in frustration. Although she had to admit she was relieved Jordan was no longer standing quite so close to her. Or touching her. Or making her completely aware of the thick hardness of his arousal. A physical response that had been undoubtedly because of her!

      She ran the dampness of her palms down denim-clad thighs. ‘I’m still willing to cook you that steak if you’re hungry?’ she said huskily.

      ‘That would just be feeding the wrong appetite, Stephanie,’ he jibed back.

      ‘Your brother is paying me to take care of your leg, not to go to bed with you!’ she exclaimed.

      He shrugged. ‘That’s a pity, when I’ve decided that right now I need a woman in my bed more than I need a physiotherapist.’ Jordan knew he had never needed physical release more than he did at that moment!

      ‘Don’t you have a girlfriend you could call?’ Stephanie asked curiously.

      His face hardened. ‘Not any more, no.’

      Stephanie looked at him searchingly. Because his parents had divorced when he was a child, Jordan Simpson had never made any secret of his own aversion to the married state. But that hadn’t prevented him from having a constant stream of women in his life. Beautiful women. Sophisticated women. Women as unlike Stephanie as it was possible for them to be. Which was the reason she knew that his interest in her wasn’t genuine.

      ‘Why not? There must be plenty you could call who would come running.’

      He gave a humourless smile. ‘Look at me, Stephanie,’ he demanded. ‘Really look at me,’ he pressed.

      Stephanie had already looked. Several times! And, yes, he was obviously thinner, gaunter, grimmer than he had been six months ago, but as far as she was concerned none of that detracted from the fact that he was a compellingly handsome man.

      ‘What am I looking for?’

      Jordan gave an impatient snort. ‘What was it you called me earlier? A cripple, wasn’t it?’

      She gasped at the bitterness in his tone. ‘No, what I actually said was that you obviously believe yourself to be a cripple,’ she corrected firmly.

      ‘Maybe because that’s what I am?’ he said harshly. ‘I certainly don’t want any woman to be with me just because she feels sorry for me.’

      ‘That’s ridiculous—’

      ‘This from the woman who just refused me?’ he taunted.

      Stephanie rolled her eyes. ‘We both know you weren’t being serious.’

      ‘Do we?’

      ‘Yes,’ she snapped. ‘You were just trying to make me leave.’

      ‘Is it working?’

      ‘No,’ she told him firmly, determined to ignore the traitorous responses of her own body to this conversation; her breasts felt full and aching, and there was a burning warmth between her thighs.

      Knowing that this man was deliberately playing with her in an effort to make her leave made absolutely no difference to the way Stephanie’s body responded to him. ‘How do you think Lucan will react if I have to call him and tell him I had to leave because you were sexually harassing me?’ She looked at him challengingly.

      Jordan gave a feral grin. ‘He would probably be relieved to know that something has aroused my interest at last.’

      Remembering how deeply concerned Lucan St Claire had been about Jordan the previous week, Stephanie thought that might be the case, too!

      ‘Aroused being the operative word,’ Jordan jeered, and had the pleasure of seeing the blush that re-entered those creamy cheeks.

      Stephanie McKinley was really quite beautiful, he realised with a frown, her face impishly lovely, her body feminine and shapely. And his fingers actually itched to release that red-cinnamon-gold hair from its confining braid. He could imagine all that hair splayed out across her luscious nakedness as he feasted hungrily on the fullness of her breasts, before going lower.

      He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, either, if he continued to allow his imagination free rein. In fact a cold shower sounded as if it might be a good idea! ‘I’ll wish you goodnight, Stephanie.’ He gave her another lazy grin before he turned and left the kitchen.

      Heading straight for that cold shower.