Taming the Last St Claire. Кэрол Мортимер

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Taming the Last St Claire - Кэрол Мортимер Mills & Boon Modern

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black business suit she was wearing today should have looked crisp and professional, but somehow…didn’t. The jacket was short and figure-hugging, and the top three buttons left unfastened on the green silk blouse she wore beneath enabled him to see the tops of full and creamy breasts. The fitted knee-length skirt showed off an expanse of her shapely legs.

      In other words, Joey McKinley was—‘You know, I’ve seen paint dry quicker than you appear to be able to make up your mind!’ she called out.—a veritable thorn in his side! He drew in another controlling breath in an effort to force the tension from his body. ‘Do you always have to be this abrasive?’ Silly question; he knew her well enough by now to know that she always said exactly what happened to be on her mind at the time. Something that Gideon, a man who always measured his words carefully before speaking, found disturbing to say the least.

      Her next comment was a prime example of that bluntness. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t feel the need if you occasionally took that I’m-so-superior stick out of your backside and joined the rest of us mortals in the real world.’

      Gideon winced. The two of them had met—what?—four times in total. Most recently two days ago, at Lucan and Lexie’s wedding, and before that nine weeks ago, when he’d first met her in her office at Pickard, Pickard and Wright, after he had gone to inform her he had managed to extricate her twin sister Stephanie from an awkward legal situation. Two weeks after that he’d met her at the wedding rehearsal of his twin brother Jordan and Stephanie, and then he’d seen her again at their wedding a week later.

      Gideon frowned now as he remembered his absolute astonishment during Jordan and Stephanie’s marriage ceremony. Everything had gone so smoothly in the lead-up to the wedding, and Gideon, as his brother’s best man, had ensured that he and Jordan arrived at the church in plenty of time. Gideon had even felt a lump of emotion in his own throat, on his twin’s behalf, when the two of them had turned to see how beautiful Stephanie looked as she walked down the aisle. Until, that was, Gideon had caught the look of derision in Joey’s gaze as she’d glanced at him from where she followed just behind her twin.

      Not that this was anything unusual; the two of them seemed to have taken an instant dislike to each other the very first time they’d met. No, the reason for Gideon’s astonishment had come later in the ceremony, when everyone had sat down while Jordan and Stephanie and their two witnesses signed the register, and he’d heard an angel singing.

      A single, unaccompanied voice had soared majestically to the heavens, filling the church to the rafters, as sweet and clear as the perfect, melodic chiming of a bell.

      He had never before heard anything so beautiful as that voice—so clear and plaintive it had been almost magical as it claimed his emotions. He had felt so dazed, his senses so completely captivated by the pure and haunting beauty of that voice, that it had taken him a minute or so to realise that all the wedding guests were looking towards the right side of the church—which was when Gideon had realised that the singing ‘angel’ was none other than Joey McKinley!

      Joey had no idea why it was that Gideon St Claire brought out the very worst in her—to the extent that she enjoyed nothing more than deliberately baiting him out of what she considered his arrogant complacency. Maybe it really was that superior attitude of his that bugged her. Or the fact that, with his icy reserve firmly clamped in place, he was always so emotionally unresponsive. Everything about him was restrained, from the short style of his wonderful gold-coloured hair, the tailored dark suits he wore—always over a white shirt and matched with a discreetly subdued silk tie—to the expensive but unremarkable metallic-grey saloon car he drove. If Joey had been as rich as the St Claire family was reputed to be then she would have driven a sporty red Ferrari at the very least!

      Or her resentment could just stem from the fact that a couple of months ago Gideon St Claire had stepped in, with his highly polished size eleven handmade leather shoes, and sorted out a delicate and personal legal matter for her sister, which Joey had been trying—unsuccessfully—to settle for weeks.

      It certainly couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that, putting the icy reserve apart, the man was as handsome as sin but gave every impression he hadn’t so much as noticed Joey was a female, let alone a passably attractive one!

      His hair—cut too short for her liking—was the colour and texture of spun gold, and styled over his ears and brow. His eyes were a dark and piercing brown, set in a ruggedly handsome face, and as if that wasn’t enough, nature had bestowed upon him high cheekbones, sensually chiselled lips, and an arrogantly square jaw.

      Having studied him from beneath lowered lashes at their second meeting—she had been too overwhelmed by both his legal reputation and his considerable arrogance the first time they met in her office!—Joey had no doubt, just from the predatory way that he moved, that the body beneath those dark tailored suits and white silk shirts was powerfully lean and muscled.

      Wheat-gold hair, chocolate-brown eyes, broodingly sensual features that any male model would kill for, and a body that was all hard masculine contours meant that Gideon St Claire was seriously hot—with a capital H. A description that, if he were to hear it, would no doubt offend all his icily reserved sensibilities!

      Taking all that smouldering sensuality into consideration, Joey had been intrigued by the fact that he hadn’t brought a woman with him to the weddings of his brothers. That coupled with the fact that Gideon didn’t even seem to register her as a female, had eventually made Joey ask her sister whether Gideon maybe preferred men to women. She had assumed Stephanie’s answer to be a resounding no after it had taken her sister almost five minutes to stop laughing hysterically.

      So, Mr Arrogantly Reserved and Broodingly Sensual obviously liked women—just not Joey!

      Well, that was fine with her—Gideon St Claire might be one of the most disturbingly attractive men Joey had ever met, but the lack of interest he always showed in her only succeeded in making her feel defensive, and more often than not she deliberately set out to shock him.

      ‘Are you suffering from laryngitis, or are you just not a morning person?’ The bright cheerfulness with which Joey spoke showed neither of those two things applied to her.

      ‘Perhaps if you were to stop talking long enough to allow me to answer you?’ He spoke tersely, yet even the low and gravelly tenor of his voice was sexy, she thought with a mental sigh. He made no move to close the short distance between their two parked cars. ‘Miss McKinley—’

      ‘Joey.’

      His nostrils flared with obvious distaste. ‘Would you object if I were to call you Josephine?’

      ‘Not at all—as long as you don’t mind me reacting the same way I did the last time someone tried to do that,’ she came back breezily. ‘He ended up with a black eye,’ she supplied with a smile as Gideon raised questioning blond brows.

      One of those brows remained raised. ‘You don’t like the name Josephine?’

      ‘Obviously not.’

      This was not going well, Gideon accepted heavily. He had come to the conclusion, during the hours since Lucan had spoken to him on Saturday evening, that the only solution to this problem was for him to talk to Joey and calmly and logically explain why he didn’t feel they could work together, before waving her a cheery goodbye and getting on with his role of acting chairman of the St Claire Corporation. For heaven’s sake, she must be as aware as he was of their different approaches to—well, everything!

      A reasonable and well thought out plan, he had believed at the time. Until he had actually been faced with the abrasively

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