Shayla just didn’t quite know how to figure it. She had met with Thomas Jordache that afternoon with no news to tell him, yet he was still convinced someone working for Nicholas was trying to cause ill feelings between Chenault and Jordache Electronics.
A part of her wished she could talk to Paul about Jordache’s allegations, but she didn’t feel comfortable about doing so. Paul Dunlap still made her uncomfortable. The only time she’d felt totally at ease around him had been that night at the Mings’ dinner party, when he had told her that his sister had been married to Jordache and that Trent was his nephew. That night she had felt an affinity with Paul. The only reason she could find for having felt that way was because Thomas Jordache had had a negative effect on both of their lives.
Shayla set down the bottle of lotion on her dresser after rubbing the smooth liquid over her body. She had taken her shower and was about to get ready for bed, although it wasn’t quite eight o’clock. Picking up a bottle of cologne, she opened and sniffed, enjoying the fragrance of Seduction. She smiled warmly as she dabbed some across her breasts, near where the diamond heart pendant Nicholas had given her rested against her body. She hadn’t removed it since he’d placed it there.
She sighed deeply. She was missing him something fierce, although he called her every night. She had just slipped into her nightgown when she heard the doorbell. She quickly grabbed her robe, thinking Aunt Callie was probably her unexpected visitor. Making her way down the stairs, she absentmindedly opened the door before first checking to see who it was.
“Nicholas!”
Nicholas had not been sure what had driven him to make a mad dash from the airport without going home first, breaking speed limits as he rushed across town to Shayla’s house. He was still operating under a state of uncertainty when he’d knocked on her door. However, the moment she opened it and he saw her, everything shifted into focus and became crystal clear.
He had fallen in love with her.
A shiver rippled through him with that realization. He pulled in a long-drawn-out breath as a multitude of emotions engulfed him. Tense muscles eased as his eyes feasted on her face—the face of the woman who wore his heart. He saw the pendant that hung around her throat, visible above the low cut of her robe and nightgown. He felt the irregular beating of his heart as he watched her smile blossom beautifully on her face.
Exhaling slowly, he crossed the threshold when she stepped aside for him to enter. He was vaguely aware of her closing the door behind him. The only thing he was distinctly sure of doing was pulling her into his arms and capturing his name from her lips when she repeated it.
Instantly. Automatically. Fulfillingly. He drank in her taste as his mouth absorbed her moan, his hand felt her softness, and his heart consumed all the emotions any mortal man could stand.
He felt her hands at his back, pressing him closer. He could feel her breasts through the thin material of her nightgown and robe as they brushed against his chest. He could smell her scent. It was just as potent as the last time she’d worn it.
The tone of their kiss changed as the mating of their mouths became urgent, more intimate, more needy. An instant later, he swept her into his arms and began carrying her up the stairs. He had to break the kiss to catch his breath, to see where he was going, and to watch his steps. When he looked down at her, the fever in him grew fast, furious, out of control. He wanted her. He loved her. He needed her.
Shayla couldn’t stop the quivering in her limbs when Nicholas placed her on the bed. She watched him step back and begin removing his clothes. She found acute pleasure in watching him, wondering about his thoughts, knowing her own, and hoping they were on the same wavelength.
Eyes wide, she watched as he removed his pants, then his briefs, revealing himself in all his masculine glory, in all his unleashed desire. A shaft of pure need streaked through every part of her body, making her shiver as she watched him put on a condom. Moments later she struggled to draw in a deep breath as her gaze moved from the middle part of his body and up past his hairy chest to his eyes…and held. She shivered again. The desire that glowed within the golden depths of his eyes was hot, enticing, hungry.
Shayla drew up on her knees in the bed, raised her hand out to him.
Offering.
The sensual line of a smile formed on Nicholas’s lips when he walked back to the bed and took her hand.
Accepting.
He sighed her name as he removed her robe and her nightgown, leaving her completely bare except for the pendant she wore around her neck.
Shayla’s breath caught when she felt the heat of Nicholas’s gaze roam her naked body and then felt the bed dip from his weight when he joined her. She willingly went into his arms. The very air in the room seemed to become responsive, heated, charged.
He kissed her again, and she opened her mouth to him in urgent need as he staked his claim, greedily explored, savored his fill, bringing her taste back to his memory.
Suddenly, Shayla broke off the kiss, her breathing heavy, deep, forced. She drew in a shaky breath when he reached down and touched her intimately.
“Every time you wear the perfume you have on, I want this,” he said in a raspy voice as his hand caressed the very essence of her sensuality. “I’m becoming addicted to your scent.”
He bent his head and kissed her again, impelling with his deed what he couldn’t explain in words. She answered his kiss as hot fiery passion took over. They both surrendered to it until the need to breathe prevailed.
Laying her gently on her back, he covered her body with his, the need to become one with her an affirmation he wanted, had to have. He reached down and grasped her soft hips, lifting them slightly. Shayla shifted in need, shuddering at his touch, almost losing her breath when she felt him, his throbbing flesh, at the entry of her womanly core.
Ready…waiting.
She stared up at him questioningly. The gold eyes that met her gaze were soft, compelling, and requested patience. He was not moving. The air surrounding them was still. The hands on her hips held her steady, immobile. All was calm, still, quiescent, as his eyes continued to hold hers. Then, when she thought she couldn’t handle the delay any longer, he whispered, “I love you, Shayla,” before sinking himself deep into her softness, claiming her body and her soul with words of his love.
True words. True love.
Shayla knew it. She felt it as he made love to her, differently than any other time yet just as effective, just as satisfying. “I love you, too, Nicholas,” she whispered.
He then took her mouth voraciously in the same manner he took her body, giving just as much as he took, sharing, flaming a passion already blazing out of control. She released a strangled gasp every time he entered, then withdrew, over and over again, making the inferno inside her swell as she matched his rhythm, clasping each thrust he made deep into her body. He seemed to be making up for all the years he had not known her, had not loved her. Her body responded, somehow understanding and giving him his due.
“Now,” he whispered hoarsely against her ear. “Let’s come. Together.”
Her body complied. On one, powerful, downward thrust that met the perfect arching of her hips, their senses whirled, their bodies pulsed, constricted, and exploded. Shayla instinctively tightened her legs around him when she heard his guttural groan as the ripple that swept through him passed to her, making her scream into his mouth as sensation after sensation tore into her. Rocked her. Enthralled her. Swept away the very last of her breath. She broke off their kiss to cry out his name, her love, her fulfillment.
The power of love, true love, swirled around them. It engulfed them. It drenched them in pleasure so profound, so deep, that their bodies quaked from the force of it. And when she felt him explode inside of her, her body’s inner muscles tightened around him to absorb his release, prolonging the intimacy, the pleasure.
Something inside Nicholas shattered. He wasn’t certain what. All he knew was that at that very moment he had to have her closer, he had to go deeper. Nothing else mattered but total completion, total penetration, and total fulfillment. He wanted her for his wife, the mother of his children. He wanted her for always. The thoughts were powerful, emotional, and when the last shudder left his body—and hers—he couldn’t pull away.
He wanted to stay joined with her forever. Then, as if his wish had been granted, he felt his body get hard once more as it replenished itself. Only after pausing for a mere second to take a much-needed breath and to capture her gaze in his once more, he began moving again within her body, wanting more, needing more, knowing he loved her and would never get enough of her, on this or any level.
“Come again,” he whispered hotly in her ear, demanding her body to seek pleasure in his once more.
“Oh, Nicholas.” Shayla sighed, biting her bottom lip and arching forward on a moan as he began his steady movements of entering and withdrawing within her body again and again.
Locked together, they mated for a second time, soaring even higher than before and giving in to their bodies’ needs and their love.
Paul was about to leave the building when he noticed the light was still on in Silas Harris’s office. He decided to knock.
“Come in.”
He opened the door and stepped inside. “You’re still here?”
Harris glanced up, and Paul read some things he’d never seen in the man’s eyes before—nervousness and guilt.
“Yes. There are a few things I need to take care of before I leave.”
Paul nodded. “How are Yvette and the kids?” He watched as a faint smile touched the man’s lips.
“They’re fine. Thanks for asking.”
Paul nodded. He then tilted his head toward a recent family picture that sat on the man’s desk. “It’s hard to believe your kids are in college already. Time sure flies, doesn’t it?”
Harris looked over at the framed photo and nodded. “Yeah, it sure does.”
For a moment there was silence, then Harris returned his gaze to Paul. “Paul?”
“Yes?”
Harris opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. “Nothing.”
Paul nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his business card. He handed it to Harris. “If there’s something on your mind and you need to talk, call me. There are three numbers on that card. You should be able to reach me at any time of the day or night. Or better yet, you can drop by the condo I’m leasing while I’m here. No matter how late it is.”
Without saying anything else, Paul walked out of the office.
Shayla was the first one to wake. Evidently Nicholas was suffering from jet lag, she thought as she shifted, studying his face. His sleep seemed calm, restful. She sighed deeply, lifted her arms, and stretched them above her head, feeling totally elated. He had told her he loved her.
His words had warmed her heart, letting her know he returned her affection. She closed her eyes at the memory of their lovemaking. Torrid. Electrifying. Almost endless. Everything about Nicholas was a turn-on. His kiss had the ability to make her forget her name, the mere touch of his hand could render her speechless, and one look into those incredible golden eyes of his made heat course through every part of her body. She knew that by the time sleep had overtaken them, her skin had been flushed with pleasure and her eyes had been heavy with desire.
The only thing overshadowing her complete happiness was knowing that she had not been completely honest with Nicholas. She needed to tell him about her relationship to Thomas Jordache. Only when she was able to put that behind them could they think about a future together.
She cuddled closer to him, and then a feeling of panic settled in her stomach. Would he be upset with her for not telling him sooner? It took every ounce of strength she had to remain positive and believe that no matter what she told him he would still love her.
She knew she had to tell him the truth when he woke up. She hoped that after she explained why she had kept it from him, he would understand.
With that belief in her heart, she wrapped her arms around his middle and drifted back to sleep.
Paul tensed as he took another sip of coffee. Then he continued to read the information in Shayla’s folder and scan information he had pulled up on his computer screen. Adrenaline pumped through his system. He wondered if it was from the coffee, or the connection he had just made. Along with his discovery came memories. He’d been right. There had been something about Shayla Kirkland that was familiar.
When his department had first done the background check nothing appeared amiss. She was, after all, the daughter of a well-known Chicago pediatrician, a man for whom a wing at the hospital had been named, and her credentials were intact, above reproach. There had been no reason to dwell on the information they’d had about her mother. The report had merely noted the name Eva Kirkland. Only after he had begun digging further was it revealed that Eva Kirkland had once been Evangeline Foster, a former employee of Chenault Electronics.
He didn’t have to pull up Evangeline’s file from the archives to remember the incident relating to her dismissal. He remembered it clearly, because he had headed up the investigation. Only years later had he discovered that the company had made a grave mistake. She had been an innocent pawn in Jordache’s game of deceit.
He looked at Shayla’s date of birth again. The date was less than nine months from Evangeline’s last day of employment with Chenault, which meant chances were she’d been pregnant when she left. If she had been intimately involved with Jordache, that meant…
Paul shook himself, not wanting to jump to conclusions. But he knew someone who could provide him with answers. His gaze zeroed in on the line on Shayla’s application that listed her next of kin as an aunt, C. Foster. He knew the C stood for Callie.
He sighed deeply, remembering that summer he’d met her, when she’d visited her sister in Jacksonville. He had fallen in love with her, only to lose her when he’d later accused her of aiding Evangeline by trying to distract him from his in-house investigation. He had wished so often over the past years that he could see her again, to take back the cruel words he had spoken that had separated them forever.
He checked his watch. It was a little past nine. What he needed to know couldn’t wait, even if seeing Callie again after all these years would have one hell of an impact on him.
He closed the file after copying down Callie’s current address, then shut down the computer. He stood, and was about to slip into his jacket when the doorbell sounded. Walking over to the door he glanced out of the peephole before opening the door.
His gaze lingered on the man who stood on his doorstep under the porch light. “Harris. I’m glad you decided to pay me a visit.”
It was morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise and bathe the ship’s decks with its sunny warmth. Trent had gotten up earlier than usual so he could enjoy the view.
And so he could think.
For the last two days Brenna had pretty much avoided him, and he felt the sting of her absence. He had gotten used to their spending time together. The brightest part of his morning had been sharing breakfast with her on deck, looking at the ocean and knowing that he would be spending the remainder of the day with her, as well. But what he’d said to her that night had put an end to all that.
So much for honesty.
Would she have preferred him to lie, then use her without any consideration for her feelings? There was no way he could have done that. He cared too much for her to even think of treating her so shabbily.
Trent inhaled, deeply. What had she expected from him? Some sort of commitment? A declaration of love? Was she no different than Michele, thinking she could wrap him around her finger and make him heed her wants by withholding her favors? He shook his head, refusing to think that way. He knew in his heart that Brenna and Michele were nothing alike.
He looked out over the ocean. All was peaceful and still, but inside him a turbulent storm was brewing. In less than two days the ship would be docking in New York. He couldn’t help wondering what Brenna’s plans were. Would she return home to Texas, or would she join the group of models she coordinated and begin traveling from city to city on tour? Would she erase him from her mind completely, no matter where she went? What if she met someone else? Someone who would give her the love and commitment she wanted, that she deserved?
Trent’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. Before the cruise he hadn’t known her, hadn’t known she even existed, and now he didn’t think he would ever be able to forget her. And to think he’d originally thought she didn’t have any charm or manners. The woman had more worth in her little finger than some of the women he’d dated had in their entire bodies. Just the thought of that and the calm sensuality that flowed between them made unwanted emotions spiral deep within his chest, swelling his heart. They were the same emotions he had tried ignoring three nights ago, when they’d had dinner in his cabin.
Now, today, he was forced to acknowledge them.
He had fallen in love with Brenna St. James.