by Miranda Lee
When she’d told Chad during his early-morning call that she didn’t want to go, not without him, he’d been flattered but insistent.
‘You’ve taken on a new client this month, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she’d admitted. An angry young man who wanted to sue his employer for unfair dismissal after the boss had discovered he was a homosexual.
‘Then you have to go, darling. Rules are rules. Just make sure you wear your engagement ring. Let all the men there know you’re taken.’
Jordan had come away from that phone call just a tad unsure of her decision to marry Chad.
During his calls this week he’d become quite bossy with her. And demanding. He really seemed to think she was going to give up working once they were married and living in the States.
As if she would!
She’d also been quite put out when he’d been less than effusive in his congratulations over her winning all that compensation money for Sharni Johnson. He hadn’t sounded as if he cared about her success at all!
Yet she was expected to rave over how his ‘wonderful’ friends had thrown him all those welcome home parties. So far he’d gone out somewhere different every night.
Somehow Jordan doubted he’d told any of the females attending these dos that he was taken. Chad liked being the centre of attention.
Jordan wasn’t jealous, but she resented double standards.
Guilt consumed her with this last thought. After all, she hadn’t exactly been Little Miss Innocent since Chad had gone away, had she?
Over a week had gone by since she’d gone to Gino’s hotel room, but the memory of her behaviour still haunted her.
She’d been putty in Gino’s hands, quickly reverting to the naïve little fool she’d been ten years ago.
He’d said, ‘Come with me’—and she had. He’d said, ‘Don’t come’—and she hadn’t.
That was Gino’s modus operandi. He commanded and she obeyed—and how she’d loved it!
Fortunately, fate had come to her rescue in the form of that plane ticket before she’d behaved even more foolishly.
Some damage had already been done, however. The damage which came when a woman experienced that level of sexual excitement, and the ecstasy which inevitably followed. Difficult to go back to the mundane after that. Difficult to forget.
That had always been her problem where Gino was concerned.
Forgetting…
Let’s face it, Jordan, the voice of cold, hard reality piped up. You’re never going to forget that man. You can marry Chad and go live in the States, put thousand of miles between you. But Gino’s always going to be there, in your head.
Jordan groaned, tipped up her glass and swallowed the rest of her wine with one gulp. Then she whirled and headed back inside, to collect her evening bag and her keys.
At the last moment she remembered what Chad had asked her to do: wear the engagement ring which he’d left with her but which she hadn’t as yet put on—even though she’d now accepted his proposal.
Did that omission say something?
It was not a ring she would have chosen, Jordan thought, as she hurried into the bedroom and retrieved it from a drawer. It was too fussy: a huge ruby, surrounded by two rows of diamonds, and on top of that the setting was yellow gold.
Jordan liked white gold. Or silver.
And she liked simplicity.
Of course Chad hadn’t actually chosen this ring, she conceded. It was a family heirloom, having once belonged to his grandmother, who’d willed it to him when she died, to be given to his bride.
Jordan had been touched by the sentiment. But she suddenly wondered, as she slipped the ring on, if she’d be able to cope with Chad’s high-powered and tradition-filled family—not to mention all his ‘wonderful’ friends. They sounded just a little overpowering.
It was one thing to live with him here, in Australia. Things were very easy-going here. But what would life be like in America? She’d never travelled there, her one and only overseas trip being to Europe, with most of her time spent in Italy.
No omission there. She’d stupidly thought she might find Gino. But she hadn’t, of course. How could she have when she’d been looking for the wrong name?
Jordan gritted her teeth. Gino again.
Thinking of Gino reaffirmed her decision to marry Chad.
Okay, so Chad wasn’t perfect. He was a touch arrogant. And obviously quite spoiled by his very wealthy, very indulgent parents.
No way was he as hard-working as she was.
But he wasn’t a conniving, conning, cheating bastard.
And he wanted to marry her.
Whereas Gino…
‘Enough of Gino,’ she muttered under her breath as she swept out of her apartment. ‘I’m going to marry Chad and that’s that!’
CHAPTER NINE
KERRY usually looked forward to the new client dinners. But tonight she would much rather have been out with Ben.
Running into him last Friday night—and finding out he was still single—had been a very pleasant surprise. He was her one ex that she truly regretted having broken up with. They hadn’t argued or anything. Ben had simply had the urge to travel.
Now he was back in Australia, and obviously wanted to take up with her where they’d left off. They’d spent most of the weekend together, and a few evenings this week, with Ben eager to take her to a concert tonight.
But, as Frank’s PA, Kerry was obliged not only to attend this dinner, but to help hostess the event. Frank was a widower, with no new partner, and he had no idea how to organise anything. It was always left to her to do the place settings, hire a caterer, buy the wine, choose the menu, and then make sure everything went off without a hiccup.
This month she’d chosen a new caterer, who was expensive but who came highly recommended. They’d also provided everything, right down to fresh flowers for the table. The chef was top drawer, having worked in several five-star hotels. The waiters were also experienced professionals, not fly-by-night casuals like some catering firms used.
Kerry still thought it would have been less trouble to go to a restaurant. But Stedley & Parkinson preferred the intimacy and the privacy of their boardroom.
Admittedly the boardroom was well equipped for such a function, having an excellent kitchen attached, plus two powder rooms just outside in the hallway. The boardroom itself was a very spacious and impressive room, with a huge mahogany table which comfortably seated twenty-four. The floors were polished wood and the walls white, a perfect backdrop for the colourful Australian artwork which decorated them. All originals, they were landscapes from famous artists such as Pro Hart and Albert Namatjira.
Kerry could understand why Frank chose to host these dinners here. She just resented the added workload, which was why she’d found this new catering firm, leaving her little to do except work out who would sit where.
Of course that wasn’t always as easy as it looked. Certain tensions among the staff at Stedley & Parkinson had to be addressed, with rival lawyers kept well apart. And there was always a surfeit of men, too, even amongst the new clients. Kerry was relieved that Jordan was coming. She’d put her between Mr Bortelli—who wasn’t bringing a partner—and Mr McKee, Jordan’s client, who also wasn’t bringing a partner.
All up, eighteen people would be at the dinner: six lawyers, their six most important new clients—four of whom had brought partners—and Frank and herself.
Of course not every new client the practice took on was invited. Only the ones who had serious money, or whose cases might provide the most publicity. Jordan’s new clients were always invited, because she took on cases which the press—and the public—found interesting.
As Kerry walked around the boardroom, making sure all the place-names were right, she wondered if Jordan would wear something different this month. Last month she’d turned up in the same outfit she’d worn the month before—a classic, but boring little black dress, with a high scooped neckline, long sleeves and
a straight, not-too-tight skirt which covered up far too much of her excellent legs. The double-strand pearl necklace she always wore with it was just as prim and proper, though her shoes were not too bad: black, strappy and high.
Nevertheless, now that Jordan was engaged to Prince Charming she would definitely have to upgrade her wardrobe from off-the-peg-working-girl clothes to designer gear.
Men like Chad Stedley expected their wives to outshine everyone else. Jordan might not realise it yet, but she was about to enter a totally new world, where fashion and appearances would be critical to her success as Mrs Chad Stedley.
No longer could she get away with dressing the way she did. Some serious shopping was called for before Chad came back from the States. And Kerry was just the girl to go with her and give her advice.
‘Oh, doesn’t everything look lovely!’
Kerry glanced up with a smile already forming on her face.
‘Speak of the devil,’ she said, on seeing Jordan. ‘I like your hair.’ Too bad about the dress, Kerry thought ruefully.
‘Everyone’s still up in Frank’s office, having predinner drinks,’ Jordan said.
‘Yes—so why aren’t you?’
‘I walked by the door and simply couldn’t bear to go in and make meaningless chit-chat. So I dropped my purse off in my office and came straight down here to talk to you.’
Kerry grinned. ‘Coward. You just don’t want to—Oh, my God! You’re wearing the engagement ring. Here, give me a good look at it. Oh, my, it’s fabulous! Chad must have picked it out. I know you, Jordan. You would have chosen a single diamond solitaire, half that size, set in a simple claw setting.’
Jordan shook her head wryly at her friend. ‘And you’d be right. This is actually a family heirloom.’
‘How did he get it to you? By international courier?’
‘No. He left it with me before he went overseas.’
‘Because he knew you’d eventually say yes.’
‘How could he have known?’
Kerry rolled her eyes at her friend. ‘Because multimillionaires like him don’t get turned down.’
‘I’m not marrying him for his money, Kerry.’
‘I know that. You’re marrying him because you love him, and because you’ve finally got over that Italian fellow. Speaking of Italians—I hope you don’t have anything against Italian men in general, because I’ve seated you next to one tonight.’
‘Oh?’
‘He’s Henry’s new client. Contracts and mergers. I didn’t expect him to accept the invitation, since he lives in Melbourne. But, lo and behold, he did.’
Jordan’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t possibly be Gino, could it? Would fate be that cruel?
‘I hear he’s quite a hunk,’ Kerry added. ‘And filthy rich. He’s a builder. Of seriously big buildings.’
Jordan’s chest tightened. Oh, no, she thought with a mixture of disbelief and despair. It had to be Gino.
Fortunately, Kerry was in the process of checking the name cards and wasn’t looking at her. Jordan didn’t want her friend putting two and two together. And she just might if she saw the near panic which was bubbling up inside Jordan.
‘Does he have a name, this Italian?’ she asked, using her extra-cool court voice—the one she could conjure up no matter how she felt inside.
‘What? Oh—Bortelli. Gino Bortelli. Look, I’ll have to love you and leave you, Jordan. I can hear voices coming down the hallway. I need to let the caterer know that everyone’s arriving.’
She bustled off without giving Jordan a second glance, which was just as well.
For the life of her Jordan didn’t know how she hadn’t fainted. All the blood had definitely drained from her face when she’d heard that dreaded name, her head swirling alarmingly. She stumbled over and gripped the back of the nearest chair, afraid to turn around and face the main doorway. The voices were much closer, indicating that people were moving into the room.
‘Ahh…so there you are, Jordan,’ a male voice boomed.
Jordan winced. It was Frank—Kerry’s boss. And her boss.
Impossible to do anything but turn round. Yet she knew as she did so that Frank wouldn’t be alone. He would have their most valuable new client with him: the very wealthy Mr Gino Bortelli.
Despite being mentally prepared for the encounter, Jordan was still stunned by the sight of Gino, dressed to kill in a magnificent black dinner suit, complete with a white dress-shirt and a black bow-tie. Stunned, too, by what she saw in his black eyes.
Not surprise, as she would have imagined if this was a cruel twist of fate. But coldness. And contempt.
The realisation that he’d known she would be here tonight was instantaneous. The only question remaining was how come? Jordan hadn’t told him where she worked.
Gino should have been as shocked as she was.
But he wasn’t. Not at all.
Which meant what?
Somehow she managed a polite smile, but all the while her head was spinning with unanswered questions.
‘Hello, Frank,’ she said, reefing her eyes away from the man by his side.
‘Mr McKee was looking for you,’ Frank said, a touch irritably.
‘Really? Where is he?’
‘He had to go home. He said he could feel a migraine coming on.’
‘What a shame,’ Jordan said, thinking to herself that she wished she’d thought of that. Then she could have fled this extremely difficult scenario.
Running away from difficult scenarios, however, had never been Jordan’s style. She liked to face things head-on.
Which was hardly what she was doing at this moment.
It took an effort of will, but she finally turned her eyes back to meet Gino’s.
‘And who’s this, Frank?’ she asked coolly, and watched with some satisfaction as Gino’s shoulders stiffened.
But no way was she going to give him the opportunity to say anything embarrassing in front of her boss. And he might, if she admitted to already knowing him.
‘An extremely valuable new client,’ Frank replied pompously. ‘Mr Gino Bortelli, CEO of Bortelli Constructions, one of Melbourne’s finest building companies. Henry helped him out last week with a contract.’
Ahh, so that was how he came to be here. Jordan wondered if someone had mentioned her name whilst he’d been here, signing that contract.
No, that couldn’t be right. Gino hadn’t even known she was a lawyer last Friday night, let alone where she worked.
‘Hopefully, Gino will do Stedley & Parkinson the honour of letting us represent him in all his future business dealings in Sydney,’ Frank added.
Jordan was used to Frank sucking up to wealthy clients, but he seemed to be outdoing himself this time.
‘Unfortunately Henry called in sick at the last moment,’ he swept on, before Jordan—or Gino—could say a single word. ‘So I’ve been introducing Mr Bortelli to everyone. Jordan’s one of our finest young litigators, Gino. She’s gained quite a reputation during the few short years she’s been with us.’
‘Don’t flatter me, Frank. How do you do, Mr Bortelli?’ Jordan said, but refrained from holding out her hand.
‘Very well, thank you,’ Gino replied with a cool nod.
‘I’ll leave you in Jordan’s good hands. I seem to recall Kerry has seated you next to each other. But don’t get any ideas, Gino. Our Jordan has recently become engaged. To Chad Stedley,’ he threw over his shoulder as he turned away. ‘Our senior partner’s son and heir.’
‘Congratulations,’ Gino said, his tone polite but his coldly contemptuous eyes spearing into her very soul.
Jordan could not help the guilty colour stealing into her cheeks. Luckily, Frank had turned away, and was already showing other guests to their seats around the table.
‘So, is this the way we’re going to play it tonight, Jordan?’ Gino went on caustically. ‘Like we’re total strangers?’
Jordan gave him a long, cold look of her own. ‘Everyone is si
tting down for dinner, Mr Bortelli. I suggest we do the same. This way…’
He followed her round to the far side of the table, where she indicated his seat, right next to hers. Fortunately, nobody made any move to remove the place-settings on either side of them, meaning their conversation would not be easily overheard. Also fortunately, Kerry was seated to the left of Frank, on the same side of the table as Jordan, which meant she wouldn’t witness any telling interplay between Jordan and Gino.
Once they’d settled in their chairs and the entrées had been served—tempura prawns on a salad base—Jordan decided to stop playing word games and cut to the chase.
‘You’re being here tonight is not a coincidence, is it?’
‘My hiring Stedley & Parkinson as my legal representative was a coincidence.’
‘But you knew I’d be here tonight?’
‘Yes.’
Jordan’s frustration level rose. ‘Care to elaborate on that?’
‘No.’
Jordan tried to think. Gino had always had difficulty taking no for an answer. She’d rejected him last Friday night. Had he had her investigated, perhaps? Found out where she worked? Found out about Chad?
She wouldn’t put it past him.
‘It must be difficult for you,’ Gino said quietly, ‘with your fiancé overseas. You must miss him.’
Jordan’s heart lurched. ‘How do you know that Chad’s overseas?’
‘Maybe Frank told me.’
‘He didn’t, though, did he? You’ve had me investigated.’
‘My, my, what a suspicious mind you have. Must come from being a lawyer.’
‘What is it that you want of me, Gino?’
He put down his entrée fork and slanted a smile her way.
It was a wickedly provocative smile—one which set her heart racing. And not from anger.
‘What I’ve always wanted when I’m around you, Jordan,’ he murmured, his sexy black eyes suddenly going from arctic cold to tropical heat.
When her hand began to tremble, she too put down her fork. Jerking her eyes away from his, she picked up her wine glass, gripping the stem tightly as she lifted it to her lips and swallowed a deep gulp.