âI THINK I should warn you, Miss McKinleyâat the moment my brother is behaving like an arrogant lout!â
Must run in the family, Stephanie thought wryly as she looked across at Lucan St Claire, who was sitting behind his desk in the London office of the St Claire Corporation. Tall, dark, and aristocratically handsome, with a remoteness that bordered on cold, he wasnât loutish at allâbut this man had to be the epitome of arrogant!
The fact that he showed absolutely no interest in her as a woman might have something to do with Stephanieâs unkind thoughtsâbut, hey, a girl could dream of being hotly pursued by a mega-rich, tall, dark and handsome man, couldnât she? That Lucan St Claire had more money than some small countries, and reportedly only dated leggy blondesâas opposed to women like Stephanie, with her average height and flame-red hairâprobably had something to do with his lack of interest. Also, if that werenât enough strikes against her, she was merely the self-employed physiotherapist this man intended hiringâshe hopedâto aid his younger brotherâs recuperation.
She steadily returned the piercing darkness of his gaze. âMost people in pain tend to becomeâ¦a little aggressive in their behaviour, Mr St Claire.â
The sculptured lips curved in a humourless smile. âI believe you will find that Jordanâs a lot aggressive.â
Stephanie mentally sifted through the relevant facts she already had on the man who was to be her next patient. On a personal level, she knew Jordan St Claire was thirty-four, and the youngest of three brothers. Medically, she knew Jordan had been involved in some sort of accident six months ago, resulting in his having broken almost every bone down the right side of his body. Numerous operations later, his mobility still impaired, the man had apparently retreated from the world by moving to a house in the English countryside, no doubt with the intention of licking his wounds in private.
So far Stephanie found nothing unusual about his behaviour. âIâm sure that itâs nothing I havenât dealt with in other patients, Mr St Claire,â she said confidently.
Lucan St Claire leant his elbows on the leather-topped desk to look at her above steepled fingers. âWhat Iâm trying to explain is that Jordan may beâ¦less than enthusiastic, shall we say?â¦even at the mere thought of having yet another physiotherapist working with him.â
As Stephanie had never thought of herself as âyet another physiotherapistâ, she found the remark less than flattering. She was proud of the success she had made of her private practice these past three years. A success that had resulted in almost all her clients coming as referrals from doctors or other satisfied ex-patients.
From what Stephanie had read in the medical file that now sat on top of Lucan St Claireâs deskâa confidential file that she was sure he shouldnât even have had access to, let alone a copy ofâthe surgeons had done their work, and now it was up to Jordan St Claire to do the rest. Something he obviously seemed less than inclined to doâ¦
Her eyes narrowed as she studied the aristocratically haughty face opposite her own. âWhat is it you arenât telling me, Mr St Claire?â she finally prompted slowly.
He gave a brief appreciative smile. âI can see that your professional reputation for straight talking is well earned.â
Stephanie was well aware that her brisk manner, along with her no-nonsense appearanceâher long red hair was secured in a thick braid down her spine, and there was only a light brush of mascara on the long dark lashes that surrounded cool green eyesâinvariably gave the impression she was less than emotionally engaged. It wasnât true, of course, but inwardly empathising with her patients was one thing, and allowing them to see that empathy something else entirely.
As for her professional reputationâ¦
Thank goodness Lucan St Claire didnât give any indication that he had heard any of the rumours concerning Rosalind Newmanâs recent accusationâthat Stephanie had been involved in an affair with her husband Richard whilst acting as his physiotherapist. If he had, then she doubted he would even be thinking of engaging her.
âIâve never seen any point in being less than truthful.â She shrugged. âEspecially when it involves my patients.â
Lucan nodded in agreement. âJordan wouldnât accept anything less.â He sat back in his black leather chair.