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His words were not what Shayla had expected. She rubbed her temples, not knowing what to say, not even sure she believed him. She decided it was better not to believe him. “And just what do you want me to do about it? Donate one of my lungs so you can live a little longer, to continue to be the vile person you are.”

  For a moment they stared at each other across the space of the backseat. “I guess I deserve that.”

  Suddenly Shayla remembered the words her mother had written in her diary about the humiliation that this man had caused her. “That’s not the tip of the iceberg of what you deserve, Mr. Jordache. If it’s pity you want from me, you won’t get it. All my pity goes to my mother, for your treatment of her twenty-seven years ago.”

  Shayla saw a muscle twitch in Thomas Jordache’s cheek. “I didn’t know she was still in love with someone else until that one night we made love. She called out his name instead of mine.”

  “So you decided to pay her back and set her up with Chenault Electronics by making it seem she was disloyal to them?”

  “I felt used, and lashed out to hurt her out of anger. It was my way of getting back at her. I was sorry afterward.”

  Shayla shook her head in disgust at the man’s admission of what he had done. “You were sorry? Too bad she never knew that.”

  “You’re wrong, Shayla. Evangeline knew it before she died. I told her.”

  Shayla looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  Thomas Jordache rested his back against the car seat. “After seeing the two of you in the paper I figured that she hadn’t gotten the abortion, so I went over to the hospital one day when I knew she would be there, doing her volunteer work. We talked, and I told her then. And she forgave me.”

  “Big deal,” Shayla said curtly. “She forgave you, but that doesn’t mean that I will. Mom was loving and forgiving. I’m not.”

  Shayla watched as Thomas Jordache rubbed his hand over his nearly bald head several times. “Why did you want me to meet with you, Mr. Jordache? I’m sure it wasn’t to rehash old times, since we don’t have a history.”

  He looked at her and was silent for a long moment before saying, “No, we don’t. But you’ve met Trent, and I know you’re fond of him. At least, I know he’s fond of you. He speaks highly of you.”

  Shayla’s expression was wary. “What does Trent have to do with this?”

  “I love my son. I love him more than life, and if this person succeeds in doing what’s he’s trying to do then I’ll—”

  “Wait a minute. Back up. What are you saying? What on earth are you talking about?” She eyed him, trying to make sense of his words.

  “Someone, I don’t know who, is trying to make it seem that I’m behind all those things that are happening at Chenault Electronics.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not. I promised Trent that I wouldn’t have any dealings with Chenault, and I haven’t. But because of what’s happening, Trent’s going to believe I’m involved. I don’t want that. I have less than a year left to spend with my son. I don’t want that time spent with mistrust and anger between us. I want his last memories of me to be good ones.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the car, and a lump formed in Shayla’s throat from the look of heartache on Thomas Jordache’s face. It was an emotion he wasn’t trying to hide.

  Was it an act? Maybe she was the world’s biggest fool, but she honestly didn’t think so. Across from her sat a man who had wrestled with life and lost. It took several seconds for all of it to finally sink in. Thomas Jordache was dying.

  She urged her gaze away from him, telling herself she didn’t care. She didn’t know this man. This was the longest amount of time she’d ever spent with him, so why should the fact that he wouldn’t live long bother her? She hadn’t even known he’d existed until she read her mother’s diary. Glenn Kirkland was her father, not this man who wanted to die on good terms with his son…and who had not yet acknowledged her as his biological daughter. Did she care? She shouldn’t care for him, or about the situation that had created her twenty-seven years ago.

  But still…in spite of all that, she knew that she did. Her parents had raised her to care about others. Her father had been a doctor, and he’d loved his profession, the vocation of healing and caring. And her mother had worked by his side. She had been involved in a number of worthwhile charities whose main focus was caring for others, too.

  So, Shayla thought, as much as she didn’t want to care, she did. And at that moment something inside of her yielded. “If you really believe someone is trying to frame you as you claim, Mr. Jordache, why don’t you tell Trent or Nicholas?”

  Thomas Jordache’s eyebrows drew together. “I don’t think either of them would believe me. I’ve tried too often to destroy their friendship for that. Trent might want to believe me, but he’ll still have his doubts. That’s why I need your help.”

  His last statement surprised Shayla. “My help? What do you expect me to do?”

  “I want you to keep your ears and eyes open. Those two incidents were inside jobs. Nicholas needs to watch his back. Someone inside his operation is trying to ruin him, and is making it seem that I’m the one responsible. I can’t confront Trent and Nicholas with that until I have solid proof.”

  “Why don’t you go to Paul? The two of you know each other.”

  “I’m sad to say that Paul and I have barely tolerated each other over the years. He’s never forgiven me for marrying Dawn, and for keeping Trent away from him all that time. If anyone won’t believe me, it’s Paul. He wouldn’t buy my story.”

  “But you expect me to?”

  “Yes. I’m hoping that you will.”

  Shayla didn’t say anything for the longest time. Then she noticed that the car had stopped moving and they had returned to the restaurant. “I need time to think about this.”

  Thomas Jordache nodded. “I understand. In the meantime, be careful. I don’t know who’s behind this, or how desperate he may be to get whatever it is he wants.” His expression then became solemn, bleak. “Some people will do just about anything to be successful. Trust me. I know,” he said quietly, regretfully.

  Shayla nodded before getting out of the car. Without saying goodbye she closed the door behind her.

  Initially Nicholas was stunned by the information Paul had just given him, but the more he thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. Someone on the inside of his organization was working with Thomas Jordache. “And you’re sure Jordache is involved?”

  “I don’t have concrete proof, if that’s what you’re asking,” Paul said, looking directly into Nicholas’s eyes. “But this morning Harris was able to pick up on several attempts of someone trying to infiltrate our network.”

  “How?” Nicholas turned and directed his question to Silas Harris, the manager of his Technical Department.

  “By password guessing and data diddling, looking for vulnerabilities. I was able to trace it for a few seconds, and the snoop was identified as coming from one of Jordache’s based modems.”

  Nicholas sighed as he tightened his fist at his side. That the snoop had been identified as coming from one of Jordache’s modems didn’t mean anything. It could have been a system he had sold to someone. “If Jordache is involved, what do you think he’s trying to do?” Nicholas asked, knowing that whatever it took he needed to protect his software and systems. The importance of the MC Project dictated that every precaution be taken, especially at this stage of the chip’s design.

  Harris glanced down at the report in his hand before meeting Nicholas’s gaze again. “Someone is trying to introduce a virus into your system, one that’ll render the mangolid chip so ineffective that it will take another two to three years to get it back right.” He sighed deeply. “And I agree with Paul. Whoever is doing it may have inside help.”

  Nicholas’s entire body shook with a murderous rage. Someone with malicious intentions could render what had taken his company two years to develop and perfect totally us
eless with the infiltration of a virus. And it made him even angrier to know that someone from inside his company might be involved.

  “If this is an inside job, I want to know the person involved. Do whatever you have to to beef up security. I want you to use hidden cameras throughout the buildings here and in Jacksonville—especially here, since the mangolid project will be worked out of this office starting Monday.”

  He took a deep breath before continuing. His next statement was directed at Harris. “I want hour-by-hour checks of the logs, and audit trails to monitor any further attempts. I want a list of the names of any employee who’s been on vacation within the past six weeks, or who has left the company, for whatever reason—on my desk in an hour.”

  He looked at Paul. “Where’s Stockard? I haven’t seen him all day.”

  Paul leaned back in his chair. “I ran into him over an hour ago. He was rushing out of the building like he was on his way to a fire.” Paul shifted in his seat to find a more comfortable position. “Maybe he was chasing down a lead or something. He’s taking these incidents personally, and won’t stop until he brings the culprit to justice.”

  “I appreciate his eagerness,” Nicholas said, “but tell him not to be so obvious. I don’t want any of my employees to know they’re under suspicion.”

  Paul nodded.

  Nicholas turned and glanced out of the window. “I meant what I said. I want the name of the person who’s working with Jordache.”

  The decks aboard the Majestic were clean as a whistle, Trent noticed as he made his way along them. Although he appreciated his crew for such outstanding work, at the moment the main thing on his mind was getting to know a certain woman better. Being one of the owners of the ship had its advantages. The ship’s computer had given him a name: Brenna St. James. The ship’s steward in charge of Ms. St. James’s deck had confirmed that she was traveling alone. As far as he was concerned, the coast was clear for him to make his move. Now if he could only locate her.

  More information supplied by the computer indicated that Ms. St. James had a last dinner call. That meant she should be in the dining room, and that’s where he was headed.

  Once he walked through the double doors it didn’t take long for him to find her. She was sitting alone. The lights were dim but captured her stunning beauty, nonetheless. Unhesitatingly, he walked over to her.

  “May I join you?” he asked simply.

  Brenna raised her head from studying her menu to lock gazes with the man who had suddenly appeared at her table. He had asked so casually that she had to fully concentrate on just what the question was. It wasn’t easy to concentrate on anything other than how good-looking he was.

  She then remembered that she’d had her fill of dealing with good-looking men, who were usually as hot-blooded as they were good-looking. The only thing they wanted was to charm their way into her bed.

  “Why?” she demanded just as simply as he’d asked the question.

  From the expression on his face, she could see that her question had evidently taken him by surprise and left him baffled. “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to join me?” she asked as dispassionately as she could.

  “Because you’re dining alone.”

  “So. Did it occur to you that maybe I want it that way?”

  Trent lifted a brow. “If that’s the case, when I asked if I could join you all you had to say was no,” he answered easily. “In a nice way,” he added.

  “Do you really expect me to think it would have been that easy, Mr.—”

  “Jordache. Trent Jordache.”

  “Do you really expect me to think it would have been that easy, Mr. Jordache?”

  “Yes. I don’t know why not. I’ve never forced my company on any woman, and I have no intention of starting now. Please enjoy your meal.”

  Trent walked away, thinking it was a shame that with all Brenna St. James’s outside beauty she definitely lacked charm and manners.

  Brenna watched as the man walked away. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that she’d behaved rudely. Before his approach there had been two others who had cornered her right outside the dining room, also asking to join her for dinner. Neither of the men had been nice. In fact, one of them had acted as if he would be doing her a favor to dine with her. The second man had all but asked to sleep with her, as well. That was the reason she’d asked for a table by herself.

  She had come on the cruise to have a good time, not to get picked up. She wrinkled her nose in frustration. Why did some men assume a single woman traveling alone was an open invitation to be hit on?

  As she resumed looking at the menu, she thought she could easily forget all of them. Not so, her mind quickly countered. Trent Jordache isn’t a man you can easily forget. He’s handsome. Incredibly handsome. Unfortunately, his timing had been lousy when he had approached her just now, since she hadn’t had time to recover from the two jerks. What she’d said to him and the tone she’d used had been uncalled for, and totally unlike her. In all fairness she owed him an apology, and when she saw him again she would make sure that he got it.

  Chapter 21

  Shayla’s meeting with Thomas Jordache completely filled her mind as she drove away from the restaurant. She had thought about going straight to Nicholas’s place, but figured he would still be at work. She wasn’t supposed to join him for dinner at his condo for another three hours.

  She needed someone to talk to. Aunt Callie was in New York on a buying trip, and would not be returning for a few days. She could have called her at the hotel, but immediately decided against it. Her aunt would not want her to get any more involved than she was already. But for some reason Shayla felt she had to find out if Jordache’s allegations were true, if one of Nicholas’s employees was working with someone to ruin his company.

  She shook her head, thinking how ironic it was that in the beginning, ruining Chenault Electronics had been what she herself had planned to do. Now, less than a month later, after falling head over heels in love with Nicholas, she was willing to do whatever was in her power to save it.

  After she parked her car in the driveway and opened the car door, an abundant amount of icy air hit Shayla full in the face. Although it wasn’t snowing, the weather was freezing cold. She entered her home wondering what, if anything, she would tell Nicholas when she saw him later.

  Approximately three hours later, Shayla, her features flushed from the frosty temperature, knocked on Nicholas’s door. It opened immediately.

  She took a step back and made a conscious effort to pump air steadily in and out of her lungs. Every cell in her body felt numb, but not from the cold. Standing in the doorway dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and an Orlando Magic T-shirt and with no shoes on his feet, Nicholas Chenault looked like anything but a successful businessman. He was the most magnificent looking male animal she had ever seen. His body was taut and firm in all the right places, and his eyes were a sharp gold as he looked at her.

  “You’re right on time,” Nicholas said huskily, stepping aside to let Shayla in and then closing the door. He reached out for her, bringing her into his arms. The scent of her, he thought, was pure seduction, as usual, just like the name of the perfume she was wearing. Everything about his day that he wanted to forget evaporated from his mind as he held her. He wondered how such a thing was possible, and at the same time he realized just how unfair he had been to Olivia during the year they had been together, because he’d never felt this awesome need, this magnified possessiveness, this being filled with such inner fire for her. His parting with Olivia had been best for both of them, especially for her. She deserved someone who could give her the degree of emotional attachment that she needed and he’d been unable to give her. But with Shayla it was another story. He’d only known her for a month, but she affected him deeply, and not by slow degrees. Around her he felt something vital and fierce take over, every time.

  “I need this,” he said as those feelings automatically came over him
and something stirred deep within him. He cupped her chin in his hand and brought her mouth to his. At the same time he slipped the coat from her shoulders. He had thought about kissing her all day. When she’d attended that impromptu meeting in his office, he had watched her mouth move while she talked on the phone, wishing his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her, kissing her mindless.

  As he was doing now.

  He hadn’t meant to come on so strong so soon, but his hormones were raging out of control. There were too many things on his mind that he wanted to forget. He wanted all his thoughts to be concentrated on her and the desire rearing up from deep within.

  Nicholas would have been surprised to know that Shayla desperately needed to forget some things, as well. On the drive over she’d had time to think, and had decided not to mention anything to Nicholas until she could somehow check out Jordache’s story. But for tonight, she didn’t want to think about it. She only wanted to think about the man who held her in his arms and was kissing her with an intensity that she returned tenfold.

  He dragged his lips from hers. “My bedroom.”

  Without waiting for her response, he picked her up in his arms in one fluid movement and began walking in what Shayla could only assume was that direction.

  It was, she found out when he placed her gently on his huge bed moments later.

  “This is crazy,” Nicholas said as he quickly began removing his clothes, feeling out of control with a need to make love to her. He’d had her both ways—fast and hot, and slow and easy. Now he wanted a mixture of both, and hoped he’d survive the experience. His eyes stayed on her after removing his T-shirt. He then began pulling down the zipper of his jeans.

  “Yes, absolutely ludicrous,” Shayla finally said, watching him inch the zipper down and then peel the tight jeans down his hips and kick them aside. His briefs quickly followed and then he took the time needed to put on a condom. She felt the breath catch in her throat when he reached out and dragged her sweater over her head and tossed it aside.