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  “Soup and sandwich. I made the soup earlier.”

  “Homemade? Umm, I’m impressed,” he said as he struggled into a sitting position.

  Shayla placed the tray across his lap. She sat opposite him and watched him eat.

  “How did you know that ham and cheese is my favorite sandwich?” he asked after taking a big bite.

  Shayla grinned. “I didn’t. It’s all I had available. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

  Shayla remained silent as Nicholas completed the rest of his meal. When he had finished she took the tray and soup bowl back into the kitchen. When she returned he had stretched back out in front of the fireplace. He glanced up when he heard her and smiled when he saw the blanket she carried under her arms. “Come here, baby,” he said, reaching his hand out to her.

  She walked over to him and felt his hands. They were still cold. She stretched out on the floor beside him and covered them both in the warmth of the blanket. She snuggled up next to him to share her body’s heat.

  “How were things at Chenault when you got there?”

  His arms tightened around her, and he took a deep measured breath before answering. “Although the person got away, things weren’t as bad as they could have been. Luckily, the silent alarm went off, and Stockard surprised the person before he could do whatever it was he’d come there to do.”

  Shayla frowned. “You think Thomas Jordache is behind this incident, as well?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. If he’s not behind it, I’d like to know who is.”

  “Why not talk to Trent? Surely he would question his father about it.”

  “Trent left a few days ago, for a cruise to Africa. He won’t be back for three weeks.” Nicholas shifted slightly and turned to face Shayla. “I don’t want to talk about Jordache any longer,” he said, and he buried his face against her neck. Then he lifted his gaze to hers moments before capturing her mouth with his. A few minutes later the flames roaring in the fireplace were nothing compared to the flames that flared up between them.

  Trent Jordache stood in the grand ballroom aboard the cruise ship Majestic, feeling the same sense of accomplishment he’d felt for the first time after becoming one of the ship’s three owners. He couldn’t help thinking how different his life was now that he was pursuing a dream that was his, and not his father’s.

  He had gone to college and majored in engineering because it was what his father had wanted. After college he had worked in the family business—again because it was what his father had wanted. Working beside his father for more than three solid years had shown him firsthand what a manipulating and tyrannical force his father could be. Thomas Jordache had mended his ways only after realizing that he could lose his son forever unless he made some necessary and positive changes in his life. It was a good feeling to know his father had taken his threat seriously, and was now doing everything he could to become a better person. That’s why Trent refused to believe his father had anything to do with the fire at Chenault in Jacksonville. Trent knew the old Thomas Jordache could have been involved in such a thing. But his father had given him his word that the grudge he’d had against Chenault was over, and until it was proven otherwise he would not believe his father had lied to him.

  Trent glanced around the huge room again before stepping out on the wide deck. He leaned against the metal railing and looked down. Many passengers were moving to and fro along the decks, enjoying themselves. After operating six months, the Majestic had garnered a reputation for providing excellent food and service. He and his two partners intended to keep it that way. The crew members knew to pamper the passengers, and to take care of their every need. Travel agencies were booking them solid for every cruise.

  The last time he’d been on board for three months there had been paperwork to do, details to follow up on, shows to book, and a number of other things he and his two partners had to take care of. But this time, on the ship’s second voyage to the shores of Africa, he was determined to squeeze in time for a little rest and relaxation.

  Trent’s attention was suddenly captured when he noticed a sleek and sexy feminine body moving gracefully along one of the wide decks below. Behind the golden lenses of the sunglasses he was wearing, his dark gaze followed the woman’s every movement, appreciating the sensuous glide of her hips as she walked like a model on a runway. She was wearing an ankle-length sundress that fit her body very nicely in all the right places. He couldn’t help wondering if she was on the Majestic alone. She was probably with someone. He couldn’t imagine a woman who looked that good doing much of anything alone.

  Trent’s lips curved in a determined smile. He was intent on finding out who she was. If she was unattached, he was going to make it a point to get to know her better.

  Brenna St. James was enjoying her walk along the deck, taking in the beauty of the ship. She had been on cruise ships before, but this one was different. It wasn’t as large as most, and to her that was a good thing. As coordinator of the Ebony Fashion Fair, she spent 70 percent of her time traveling from city to city. It was a refreshing change not to have to deal with a crowd. It was so easy aboard the Majestic to find a quiet comer just to sit and absorb the beauty of the ocean, read a book, or just to count her blessings.

  And she needed to count her blessings. She needed to give thanks for having been shown just what kind of man Matthew Davis was before she had gotten too involved with him. The man hadn’t wanted to develop a relationship with her. All he’d wanted was a lush body that he could jump into. That was evident after he had wined and dined her for three weeks and then had expected her to sleep with him. When she’d refused his offer to become his bed partner, he had dropped her like a hot potato. Although she believed there were men out there who appreciated a woman for her heart and brains, the majority of them placed too much emphasis on a woman’s other body parts.

  So here she was on the Majestic as a result of a birthday gift from her best friend, Corinthians, and her husband, Trevor. She was determined to enjoy herself on the three-week cruise to Africa. When she returned to the States it would be pretty close to the time for Corinthians to give birth. She had left with a warning for her to not have her baby without her.

  Brenna smiled as she walked through the double doors leading into the dining room. Thinking of calories on board this ship wouldn’t do her any good. The food served continuously throughout the day was much too pleasing to the palate.

  There was a purposeful glint in Brenna’s eyes as she walked toward the buffet table.

  With the snowstorm over, it was business as usual the next day at Chenault Electronics. Shayla had gone into the office earlier than usual to catch up on the full day she had missed. Nicholas had spent the night again, and had gotten up at dawn to go back to his place to get dressed for work.

  It was noon, and she had only seen him once. They had passed in the hall and he hadn’t stopped to converse with her. Instead, he had flashed her one of his heartmelting smiles and politely said hello. She had rushed into her office, closed her eyes, taken a deep breath, and tried to get control of the rapid pounding of her heart. After that incident she had found it safer to remain in her office, throw herself into her work, and avoid the risk of running into him again.

  “Busy, Shayla?”

  Shayla glanced up and saw Cindy Davenport in her doorway, giving her a withering stare. “Not really. I was just going over the Argentina sales report. What can I do for you?”

  “Some of the other managers and I are going out after work for drinks. I thought I’d invite you to join us.”

  Once Shayla would have taken the invitation as a friendly gesture, but it had come too late. She could only assume that Cindy had an ulterior motive for inviting her now. What was Cindy hoping for? To get her stoned so she would tell all and confirm whatever suspicions Cindy had about her and Nicholas?

  “Thanks, but I’ve made other plans already.”

  “Oh, too bad. Maybe next time.” Witho
ut waiting for a reply Cindy turned and left her office.

  Shayla shook her head at the woman’s abrupt departure, and then the phone on her desk began ringing. “Shayla Kirkland.”

  “Ms. Kirkland, this is Leanne. Mr. Chenault would like to see you in his office, and he wants you to bring the South America report with you.”

  “Of course. Tell him I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone and pulled the South America report from her file drawer and quickly left her office.

  “Just go on in, Ms. Kirkland. Mr. Chenault is expecting you,” Leanne said when Shayla arrived at Nicholas’s office.

  When she entered she was surprised to find Paul sitting across from Nicholas’s desk. She had not seen him since the night of the Mings’ dinner party in Hong Kong. He looked up at her and nodded.

  Nicholas was on the phone, talking nonstop. “I understand what you’re saying, Phil, but I don’t buy it. There’s something else behind those rumors, and I want to know what,” Nicholas was saying to the person on the other end of the line. Tearing his gaze away from the phone, he smiled when he saw her. He motioned for her to come closer and sit in the chair opposite Paul.

  “All right, Phil, Shayla Kirkland just walked in. I’m putting the three of us on the speakerphone. Just give me a second to glance over the report.” Nicholas reached out, took the report Shayla handed him, and quickly began reading it. After a few minutes he said to the caller, “It’s just the way it’s supposed to be. Nothing has changed.” He then pushed a button and said, “Okay, ask Ms. Kirkland any questions you’d like.”

  The conference call lasted thirty minutes. Shayla was glad she had become knowledgeable about the South American projects and was able to answer all of Philip Turner’s questions. When the call was finally over she leaned back against her chair and sighed deeply, pleased with how well she had done.

  “You did an outstanding job, Ms. Kirkland.”

  Shayla glanced up and met Nicholas’s gaze. “Thank you, Mr. Chenault,” she said, her voice calmly professional. She then turned to Paul, who had remained in the room during the call. He was now standing and leaning on the edge of Nicholas’s desk. “Mr. Dunlap, it’s good seeing you again,” she said, standing and extending her hand to the older man.

  “You, too, Ms. Kirkland,” he said. She noted he was studying her intently as he took her hand in a brief but formal handshake. “Nick tells me you’re a hard worker, and that you’re doing a great job. You just proved that by the way you handled that conference call just now, and on such short notice.”

  “Thank you.” She turned her attention back to Nicholas. “Is there anything else, Mr. Chenault?”

  Nicholas rose from his chair and let his gaze travel down the entire length of Shayla’s body, enjoying the way she looked in her two-piece business suit. “No, Ms. Kirkland, that’s all for now. However, I will see you later tonight at my place for dinner.”

  At her frown Nicholas said, “We don’t have to be discreet around Paul. He knows.” Nicholas laughed. “He probably knows more about what’s going on with us than we do. As a kid I used to think he had psychic powers. You couldn’t put anything over on him.”

  Shayla glanced uneasily at Paul, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression. That was the last thing she wanted to hear.

  “Your secret’s safe with me, Ms. Kirkland.” He kept staring at her intently. “I still think that you remind me of someone. I just can’t figure out who.”

  Shayla forced herself to stay composed. “When you do, please enlighten me.”

  Paul’s chuckle filled the air. “Trust me. You’ll be the first to know.”

  Shayla nodded and walked out of Nicholas’s office.

  Shayla took a deep breath when she returned to her office. She closed her door behind her and immediately went to sit at her desk to get her bearings. Nicholas’s comment that you couldn’t put anything over on Paul Dunlap had her imagination running wild.

  She tried calming her overactive nerves by convincing herself that there was no way he could connect her to her mother. She didn’t resemble her mother much. Did that mean she had inherited a lot of Thomas Jordache’s features? When Paul looked at her did he see a female version of his archenemy?

  Shayla glanced at her watch. It was thirty minutes before the time she normally left work each day, and she felt the need to leave early. Nicholas was preparing dinner for her tonight at his place, and she didn’t want to eat anything heavy before then. As she reached down to pick up her briefcase, she noticed it wasn’t in the same place she had left it. She frowned. Maybe she had moved it earlier, and just didn’t remember. Since passing Nicholas in the hall earlier that day, when he’d given her his megawatt smile, her activities seemed kind of blurry. She was surprised she had handled the conference call as well as she had with him sitting across from her. A few times she had looked up and caught him staring directly at her instead of paying attention to what she and Philip were saying.

  Shayla closed her briefcase and was about to snap it locked when her phone rang. She immediately picked it up. “Shayla Kirkland.”

  “Ms. Kirkland, there’s a call for you on line three.”

  “Thanks, Leanne.”

  Shayla disconnected Leanne and pushed the button on her phone for line three. “Shayla Kirkland. How may I help you?”

  “Meet me in an hour at the Reef Bar and Grill and I’ll tell you just what you can do to help me.”

  Shayla frowned, not recognizing the deep rough voice. “Excuse me. Who is this?”

  After a pause the caller answered. “This is Thomas Jordache, Ms. Kirkland.”

  Jordache? Shayla’s body was suddenly overtaken with a combination of shock, astonishment, and anger. What could be his reason for calling her? “Mr. Jordache, there must be some mistake. Maybe the person you really want to speak with is my boss, Nicholas Chenault. I’m sure he’ll be glad to help you,” she said crisply.

  “If you want to transfer my call to Nicholas, then by all means do so. However, if I do talk to Nicholas I’ll tell him everything, Shayla,” Thomas Jordache said in a warning voice.

  His words shattered Shayla’s control. There was no way this man could know she was his daughter…was there? If so, how? According to Aunt Callie, he had assumed her mother had gotten an abortion. How had he put two and two together and come up with her?

  “I figured right. You haven’t told Nicholas anything, have you?” Thomas Jordache said when she didn’t respond.

  Shayla inhaled deeply. She pushed her briefcase aside and dropped down in her chair. “Anything like what, Mr. Jordache?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Meet me at the Reef in an hour.” He hung up.

  It took Shayla a few moments after the call to recover. She was mortified, faced with the horror that he knew.

  Somehow Thomas Jordache had found out that she was his biological daughter.

  Chapter 20

  With anger seeping through every pore of her body, Shayla crammed the car key into the ignition and started the motor, ignoring her father’s rule of always letting the engine warm up before taking off. She didn’t have time to wait. She was on her way to see a man who was as close to a monster as he could get, who evidently thought he could use her in the same manner he had used her mother twenty-seven years ago.

  It took Shayla less than twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, which was on the other side of town. She would tell Thomas Jordache what she thought of him, and then when she saw Nicholas tonight she would tell him the truth and take her chances.

  She’d barely had time to pull into the parking lot when another vehicle, a limousine, came and parked directly beside her. The back window was rolled down, and Thomas Jordache’s face appeared. “Please get in, Ms. Kirkland. We can talk while Martin takes us for a ride around the block. That will afford us more privacy.”

  Shayla nodded. She needed a lot of privacy for what she wanted to say to him. When his chauffeur
got out and opened the car door, she flopped onto the passenger seat and turned furious eyes at the man next to her.

  “You’re even more beautiful close up, Shayla. I can call you Shayla, can’t I? I apologize if my telephone call appeared somewhat threatening, but I knew of no other way to get you to meet with me.”

  Shayla ground her teeth, wondering what sort of game he was playing. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Jordache, and let’s get it straight right now. I am not my mother, and I don’t know how you figured things out, but—”

  “I saw her.”

  The man’s words made Shayla stop talking abruptly. She looked over at him. He was no longer looking at her. His eyes were glued to the scenery out of the window. “What do you mean, you saw her?” She saw his shoulders hunch slightly when he turned toward her. His eyes appeared defeated, and his expression seemed pained.

  “When I opened my business here I saw her—I saw both of your pictures in the newspaper. It was not too long after Dr. Glenn Kirkland had died, and a wing of the hospital was being named in his honor. For over twenty years I’d had no idea where Evangeline had run off to.”

  Shayla drew herself up straight. “Run off? Just what did you expect her to do after you used her and left her pregnant, with orders to get an abortion? You’re a vile man, Mr. Jordache.”

  “Yes, I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve done some pretty low-down terrible things in my life, but causing Evangeline such pain and humiliation was probably the lowest.” His expression and his soft-spoken words were sad. His tone was regretful, and repentant. But Shayla wasn’t quite ready to buy into it.

  Thomas Jordache moved his gaze back to the window and stared out. He began coughing. It was a few long moments before he had gotten his coughing under control and spoke again. “Besides being vile, Shayla, I’m also dying of lung cancer. I have less than a year to live.”