To Be A Bridegroom. Carole Mortimer

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СКАЧАТЬ He glanced across at Zak as the other man made himself comfortable on one of the bean-bags before sitting forward to top up the champagne for himself in one of the glasses. ‘At my apartment,’ Jordan stated hardly. ‘I’ll expect you around seven-thirty.’

      Stazy walked with him to the door. ‘I’m sorry about Zak,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I—He—’

      ‘You don’t owe me any explanations, either, Stazy,’ He reminded her of her own comment to him earlier in the evening.

      Of course she didn’t. This was business, after all. Although a part of her suspected that hadn’t been Jordan’s intention when he’d come to her apartment half an hour ago! Perhaps it was as well Zak had arrived when he did...

      ‘Seven-thirty Monday evening,’ she acknowledged briskly, closing the door firmly behind Jordan once he had left.

      Now she must go and tackle Zak. Because he wasn’t staying here. No matter what sort of persuasion he might try to use!

      

      ‘Zak, will you get out of that bathroom right now!’ Stazy banged loudly on the bathroom door in accompaniment to her demand. ‘I’ve been waiting almost an hour to take my shower,’ she cried furiously.

      ‘Calm down, Stazy,’ he soothed in a completely unruffled voice. ‘You aren’t due at Jordan’s for another half an hour yet.’

      So much for making Zak leave, she told herself. As she had known he would from the onset, Zak had wheedled his way into persuading her to let him stay, just until he got fixed up with a hotel. Which, as Stazy knew only too well, would probably never materialise; Zak liked his home comforts, someone always there—usually for him!

      Stazy had made it clear that his ‘someone’ wasn’t going to be her; if he was staying in England for any length of time, at her apartment, then he could do his share of the chores and cooking. His share of the cooking yesterday had comprised taking her to the nearest fast-food restaurant for Sunday lunch, assuring her that she could have the chicken or the ribs when she’d protested she didn’t even like burgers. As a change it had been fine, but as a staple diet—Zak’s staple diet, if left to his own devices!—it just wasn’t good enough.

      ‘Move it, Zak,’ she told him in a strained tone. The last thing she needed was to be stressed out when she went to see Jordan. Besides, it was her bathroom!

      Apart from getting to know her in her apartment, Jordan hadn’t seen her doing business yet, and she wanted to make a good impression. He might have reconsidered things since Saturday, and decided he didn’t want his place redecorated after all...

      ‘I mean it, Zak.’ She rattled the door handle impatiently. This was worse than when she had lived at home and had to fight her three brothers for the use of one of the two bathrooms. ‘If you aren’t out of there by the time I count to five, you can start looking for somewhere else—’ She broke of her tirade as the bathroom door was opened from the inside, and Zak stood there enveloped in a cloud of steam, with one towel draped about his neck, and another one—thank goodness!—draped about his waist and thighs. ‘I hope you haven’t used all the hot water,’ she grumbled as she strode past him into the now overheated bathroom. ‘Zak—!’ she gasped as she looked around.

      ‘I’ll clear the mess up later,’ he hastily assured her at her dismayed wail. ‘You aren’t the only one with somewhere to go this evening, you know,’ he defended as she turned to glare at him angrily.

      ‘Spare me the details,’ she snapped. ‘Just go away and leave me to—’ She broke off as the doorbell rang.

      ‘I’ll get it,’ Zak told her hurriedly, obviously glad of the excuse to escape. ‘You just carry on with your shower.’

      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 СКАЧАТЬ