Carole Mortimer - To Be A Bridegroom

‘Jordan is a little uptight at the moment,’ Jarrett told her.

Stazy looked at him with raised brows. ‘Only at the moment?’

Uptight was not the word she would have used to describe Jordan, but as she didn’t intend meeting any of these people again—including Jordan himself, next-door neighbour or not!—she felt it would be as well if she kept her opinions to herself. Good-looking though he was, Jordan was still one of the rudest, most arrogant men she had ever met. And she had met more than her fair share of them!

‘Weddings have this effect on him,’ Jarrett explained laughingly. ‘Especially family ones,’ he added pointedly.

But his point was lost on Stazy. Unless her earlier guess about a love triangle was correct...?

‘They can be—traumatic,’ she said noncommittally.

‘Are you Canadian or American?’ Jarrett prompted interestedly at her obvious reluctance to respond to his questions.

Trying a different tack, Stazy realised, knowing she had been correct in her assessment of Jarrett being an astute and clever man. As the founder of Hunter’s, a company dealing in hotels and property all over the world, and a director, along with his two brothers, he was unlikely to be anything else! Oh, well, she would play along with this game for a while—until it didn’t suit her to do so any longer.

She smiled at Jarrett, blue eyes glowing with mischief. ‘And until yesterday I had always thought my English education had obliterated most of my American accent!’

He raised dark brows. ‘What happened yesterday to tell you otherwise?’

Jordan had spoken to her—really spoken to her, rather than offering the odd terse greeting—for the first time!

But she wouldn’t tell Jarrett that. After the way he had behaved so far this evening, she certainly didn’t owe Jordan any loyalty, and she was still more than a little annoyed with him for dropping her into this awkward situation with his brother in the first place, but her mother had always taught her that two wrongs did not make a right! She could cheerfully have kicked Jordan in the shin for abandoning her to his brother’s mercy, and she would much prefer the physical satisfaction of administering that kick than getting back at him any other way!

‘When I’m in England people tend to know I’m American,’ she replied, effectively ignoring the probing in his question. ‘But when I’m at home everyone assumes I’m English.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head.

‘Can’t win, hmm?’ Jarrett acknowledged understandingly. ‘Might one ask why, when America has some damned fine schools of its own, you were educated in England?’

One might ask—but one wasn’t about to get an answer! Not in any great detail, anyway. This man missed nothing, she realised, separating the waffle from what was really important. She had made a throw-away comment about her English education—but it was this fact Jarrett had latched onto. Because he knew by asking it he could learn much more about her background—and, hopefully, about her along with it.

She shrugged. ‘Parents tend to make these decisions for their children, don’t they?’ she responded, looking curiously around the crowded room. ‘Talking of parents—which lucky pair are your own parents?’

Jarrett’s mouth twisted as the tables were turned on him. ‘Our parents are divorced,’ he rasped. ‘But my father and stepmother are about somewhere,’ he went on more lightly.

But not his mother... Interesting. Although Stazy could see by the slightly puzzled expression on Jarrett’s face that he thought, if she and Jordan had been seeing each other for a couple of months, she would have known their parents were divorced...

Another oversight on Jordan’s part. Again not her fault. She hadn’t even known Jordan had one brother until this evening, let alone two.

‘It happens.’ She shrugged off the divorce. It did happen, as statistics showed all too often, and the fact that Jordan’s mother wasn’t present at her own son’s wedding hinted at the fact that this one had been acrimonious. ‘Personally, I think it’s much better for people to part if they are unhappy, rather than try and make it work for the children. From what I’ve observed,’ she continued, ‘the kids usually end up more scarred than the parents! ’

Jarrett’s brow cleared. ‘I hadn’t thought of it in quite that way before...’

Because he was too close to the situation, Stazy guessed. Although it was odd that the three Hunter brothers had remained close to their father and not their mother. She wondered if—

No! She did not want to know anything about Jordan or his family. She did not want to get involved. Tonight had been a mistake, and the further—and quicker—she removed herself from it the better!

‘Are you—?’

‘My dance, I believe, Jarrett,’ Jordan told his older brother with satisfaction as he arrived at their side, Abbie Hunter giving Stazy a sympathetic smile as she accompanied him.

Stazy could imagine that while she and Jarrett had been chatting quite amiably Jordan had continued to be his taciturn self as he danced with Abbie. In fact, Jordan had probably spent the time wondering what she and Jarrett were finding to talk about!

‘Mind he doesn’t step on your toes, Stazy,’ Jarrett warned mockingly as he led his wife away.

‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,’ Jordan muttered as he and Stazy began to dance.

That was only the case if you didn’t rise to it, Stazy thought ruefully. And in Jordan’s case he rose all too easily to his brother’s barbs.

‘You dance very well,’ Stazy told him, brightly, having no trouble at all following his steps, his hand light on her back.

Jordan looked down at her. ‘You and Jarrett seemed to be getting on well together...?’

Predictable, or what! ‘He was quite charming,’ she said casually.

Jordan gave a disbelieving snort. ‘Jarrett is the arrogant one in the family. And Jonathan is the charmer.’

Stazy raised auburn brows. ‘Where does that leave you?’ she returned quickly.

He frowned, seeming puzzled for a moment, and then he gave a smile. It transformed him, Stazy noted with dismay. It was a roguishly sexy smile, his eyes like molten gold, those laughter lines she had noted earlier beside his eyes and mouth were put to full use. Stazy felt a fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach. Gone was the broodingly handsome man, and in his place was—

‘Devilish,’ Jordan told her, and Stazy was able to see the glittering humour in his eyes before he pulled her closer to him, both arms about her waist now as they danced to the seductively slow music. ‘I haven’t been very good company for you so far this evening, have I?’ he murmured close to her ear. ‘Let’s see if we can improve on that.’

She didn’t want him to improve on it! Taciturn would do her just fine. A devilish Jordan Hunter was not—

That face! She knew that man’s face in the crowd of people talking across the room!

She stiffened in Jordan’s arms, straining to see past the other dancers to where she had found that face she’d recognised. All she could see now was the back of the man’s head; his face was turned away from her. But it couldn’t have been him! Not here. She must have been mistaken.

‘Hey, I’m only trying to apologise because I was a little preoccupied earlier,’ Jordan chided softly as he obviously felt her tension. ‘I’m not suggesting ravishing you on the dance floor!’

That might have been preferable to the shock she had just received. At least she could have dealt with that.

She couldn’t stay here now. She had to leave. She couldn’t possibly have seen the man she had thought she had—that person was far removed from the Hunter family—but it was enough that she had thought she recognised him.