She smiled as the liveried attendant held the door for her, then paused for a moment, trying not to blink in naive appreciation of the marble-columned lobby. It had been a while since she’d got out. And never had she spent much time in a place as opulent and expensive as this.
‘I’m just nipping to the little girls’ room,’ Tara murmured.
‘Now?’
‘Your brother barricaded himself in the bathroom so I didn’t get a chance to go before we left.’ Tara shrugged.
Stephanie forgot the glorious surroundings and stared at Tara in horror. ‘You didn’t tell me that. Was he okay?’ She’d thought Dan had been sleeping. Even now, months since his last operation, he needed his rest.
‘He was fine. He was sulking.’ Tara fossicked in her bag again, as if she’d dropped the Hope Diamond in there. ‘Jeez, that boy knows how to play you.’ She looked up and sent Steffi a disapproving look. ‘Put the phone away. You don’t need him emotionally manipulating you two seconds before this meeting.’
‘He doesn’t emotionally manipulate me.’ Stephanie paused, her phone in her hand, embarrassed that Tara knew she’d been about to call and check up on him.
Tara shook her head and strode to the bathroom, barely watching where she was going, still searching for that elusive lost item in the bottom of her bag.
‘He doesn’t,’ Stephanie muttered under her breath, and clicked her phone to check the time on the screen. And to make sure there were no messages from Dan.
There weren’t.
She didn’t know whether that fact ought to make her worry more.
But Tara had been right—now wasn’t the time. Dan would have to wait a couple of hours. It was for his benefit that she was here. She’d head to the reception desk and get them to let Jack Wolfe know she’d arrived, and hopefully Tara would be back before he made it downstairs.
As she walked towards the beautifully clad reception staff she couldn’t help noticing a lone man standing with his back to her at the far corner of the lounge area. Sleek leather briefcase in one hand, he was talking into his phone. His stance emanated strength… his attire denoted power. And his American accent carried across the clear space.
‘I don’t care if he’s busy. I’ve waited long enough,’ he snapped. ‘Arrange it. Now.’
Turning, he stabbed his phone screen and then shoved it in his pocket.
Stephanie lifted her brows at the brusque arrogance of his demand. He was definitely used to giving orders, but he didn’t do it nicely. Curious to see his face, she kept an eye on him as he turned towards the rest of the room. Dark-haired, tanned, ocean-blue eyes. He’d be attractive if all that anger wasn’t radiating from his rigid posture.
He was looking down, but even so she could see the stark expression building in his eyes. Her footsteps faltered as she registered that he was feeling more than angry. He looked hurt. For a moment he looked utterly exposed, and the depth of his unhappiness stole her breath. A flood of sympathy rose unbidden, puckering her heart. For such a man to look so defeated, no matter how momentarily, it had to be something bad. And she understood bad. She knew heartache intimately.
He stiffened suddenly and looked up, across the short distance, right at her. Totally catching her gawping.
Instantly his expression changed. Closed. Hardened.
His blue eyes narrowed, focusing. And then to her astonishment he looked her over—slowly, blatantly—appraising every inch of her. All the way from her kitten-heeled feet to her perfectly curled hair.
Stephanie stood frozen, shocked, and just blinked back at him as he dared sum her up in one stare. His lips pressed into a thin line and his demeanour implied a total thumbs-down. He couldn’t have looked less impressed—or more hostile.
Okay, so she wasn’t Top Model striking, or Cosmo cover potential, but she wasn’t bad. And with Tara having worked her magic she was more than passable. And even if she wasn’t, his visual disapproval and dismissal was just plain rude.
Was he angry because he was embarrassed that she’d heard him? Or that she’d seen him looking upset for a second? She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop—he’d been the one who hadn’t had the courtesy even to try and refrain from letting the rest of the world hear his conversation.
Now she couldn’t be sure she’d seen such bleakness in his eyes. And had she really, just for a moment, felt for him?
Well, she wasn’t going to let him know he’d pierced her pride. Summoning every ounce of Steffi Leigh, she sent him her most sparkling smile—albeit insincere. Without waiting to see his reaction she turned her back on him and his wordless judgement and walked over to the receptionist.