he watched. There was no interest, no curiosity, and no boredom. They were simply dead.
As the senator led them to the bar, Tehya watched from the corner of her eye as Stephen and Craig Taite moved casually in a parallel line to meet them.
Both men had their gazes on Jordan, eyes narrowed, their arrogant, thin faces drawn into similar lines of predatory intent.
The castle Jordan owned in Ireland had been a bone of contention for years. The Taites seemed especially determined to possess it, claiming it had once been a part of their lineage as well. They had tried to meet with Grandpop Rory, with Jordan’s brother Grant, and once they had even flown to Texas in an attempt to meet with Jordan.
Now, they were pressing Jordan at every opportunity to sell the property via both e-mail and snail mail. And Jordan flatly refused, if he deigned to answer at all.
“What can I get you?” The senator turned back to them as they reach the long, dark-wood bar.
Jordan ordered for himself as well as for her before she politely rolled her eyes and turned to the bartender. She ordered her favorite whisky. Turning back to Jordan, she toasted him with the shot glass. Tipping it back and finishing it with a single swallow.
Heated, she felt a surge of bravado as fear receded at the whisky’s warmth. When her eyes opened, she found herself staring directly into the disapproving gazes of the great-uncle and the cousin she had never known.
The smile she flashed them was patently false. She didn’t dare show the hurt she felt at the disapproval her cousin showed, or the sudden flash of disgust in her uncle’s eyes.
“Stephen,” Stanton murmured. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.”
Stephen inclined his head regally before turning to Jordan. “I thought it time I met my adversary,” he said cordially. “We seem to still be locked in a silent duel over a piece of property he’s in possession of.”
“A piece of property I own,” Jordan reminded him as he moved closer to Tehya, his arm going around her waist to pull her closer to her side. “And it’s still not for sale.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Craig’s tone was just arrogantly superior enough to grate on the nerves.
The younger Taite’s blue-green eyes were chilly while the elder’s darker, moss-green eyes were frankly curious.
“It amazes me that you’re so determined to hold on to such barren property.” Stephen finally smiled back at them, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
This was her family?
“And it amazes me that you would want to buy such barren property,” Jordan pointed out, his tone definitely more cordial and less confrontational.
Suddenly, Tehya was seeing the Taites without the rose-colored glasses of nonassociation. She had never imagined such snide prejudice, such superior arrogance. How much worse would it be if they knew the truth of her?
“Jordan, excuse me, darling.” She turned to him smoothly, her smile all teeth. “I’m feeling a bit unsettled. Perhaps it’s something in the air. I’ll just step into the ladies’ room to clear my head, if you don’t mind?”
“Of course, love.” Chiding, knowing, his tone was still warm and caring. “I’ll be right here.”
He lifted his hand and gave a subtle signal to Travis and Lilly Caine. The two came instantly, following Tehya as she moved for the hall that led to the ladies’ room.
Jordan turned back to Stephen and Craig, allowing the anger surging inside him to ice his gaze as he flicked a glance over them before turning back to the senator. “Breeding leaves something to be desired in the manners department,” he commented.
Craig Taite straightened his bony shoulders beneath the silk evening jacket he wore. “Was that an insult, Malone?”
“Why, yes, I believe it was,” Jordan said, his tone low, careful to keep their conversation where it was, just among them. “You’ve insulted Teylor, Taite. That could end up being a very bad mistake on your part.”
Craig sniffed delicately. “Her manners are atrocious, Mr. Malone. A lady doesn’t swig whisky in public.”
“Only in private to endure the ass she’s with, huh?” he taunted the other man, well aware of Craig’s wife’s inability to attend many social functions with him because of her love for the inebriated state.
It was said in such a way that Craig couldn’t be certain of the insult.
“It seems we were perhaps faulty in believing a meeting would help in building an intelligent discourse for the future,” Stephen Taite sighed regretfully. “We have many business interests that coincide. I