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      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 sitting 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.

      The action allowed her to recover her composure a little. But her heart was still thudding loudly behind her ribs.

      Finally, she turned her head to face him, her expression firm.

      ‘I did not become engaged till after last Friday night,’ she told him.

      ‘And you think that exonerates you?’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You called me a liar and a cheat, Jordan. Yet all the while you were the liar and the cheat. I know exactly what happened last Friday night. You thought you could have your little

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