True Love Read online

  “That’s very likely,” he said, smiling. They had taken in a lot, but the most enjoyable part of his day had been her company. She had been fun, and expressive of emotions at certain times, when her deep love of African history had shone through.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked when they reached her cabin door.

  “Since tomorrow is our last day before heading back to the States, I plan to do some shopping in Cape Town.”

  Trent nodded. “Mind if I tag along?”

  “Are you sure you want to? It might get boring.”

  Trent smiled. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “All right, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Brenna was sinking in a warm sea of pleasure at the thought that he still wanted to spend time with her though there was nothing sexual going on between them. “Good night, Trent.”

  She wasn’t surprised when he took a step forward. Nor was she surprised when he leaned down and touched his lips to hers. From the looks he’d been giving her all day, she’d had an idea that tonight his kiss would be different, less chaste, more passionate. She shuddered in response as tiny electrical shocks escalated up her spine, intensifying her nerve end feelings. She could actually feel the blood race through her veins, making her heart pound and her breathing unsteady.

  “Trent…”

  Somehow his name escaped her lips, barely, just seconds before he deepened the kiss. The only thing she could do was hold on by placing her arms around his neck, feeling the strong corded muscles there. With very little urging she opened her mouth beneath his, giving him the taste he sought. His breathing was thick and rough in her ear, his lips warm and hungry. The tongue that slipped into her mouth was hot and searing, stroking her into participation. Her arms left his neck and clutched his shoulders to hold on, to enjoy, to receive.

  Only the sound of someone coming down the hall broke them apart.

  “I knew it would be like that,” Trent said heatedly, thickly, feeling something he’d never felt before after kissing a woman—aftershocks of pleasure. He drew in a deep breath, still reveling in Brenna’s heat and lingering passion.

  Her deep intake of breath matched his, and as he looked into her eyes he saw a mass of confusion there. He wanted to reach out and take her back into his arms and tell her that he was just as confused. But tonight he didn’t want to dwell on that confusion. He didn’t even want to think about it. He needed to go somewhere and relive the moments when he had held her in his arms and kissed her to sweet oblivion.

  “Good night, Brenna.”

  He then watched as she opened her cabin door, went inside, and closed it behind her.

  “Corinth? Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  Corinthians Avery Grant eased her pregnant body into the nearest chair. She smiled. “Brenna, of course you didn’t. Trevor and I just finished eating lunch. You’re calling from the ship?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time is it there?”

  “Around two in the morning.”

  “Two in the morning? Are you still up enjoying the nightlife?”

  Brenna grinned into the phone. “Among other things.” She took a deep breath as she stretched out on the bed. She and Corinthians were best friends, and had been since pre-school. There were no secrets between them. “Corinth, I met someone.”

  “You did? Who?”

  Immediately, visions of Trent infiltrated Brenna’s mind. “His name is Trent Jordache.”

  “Umm, sounds sexy. Is he good-looking?”

  Brenna smiled. “Girl, good-looking ain’t the word. The brother is everything a brother should be. He’s all that, and a bag of chips. Besides good-looking he’s thoughtful, considerate, fun to be around—”

  “Umm. Can he kiss?”

  Brenna closed her eyes while she became lost in a dreamy haze of sensual memories. “Can he ever! I’ve never been kissed like that before—that thorough, that complete, that intense.”

  “Wow!”

  “Yeah, I know.” Brenna’s smile widened. “My thoughts, exactly.” Then, after a few silent seconds, she said, “Corinth, I’ve fallen in love.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end and then silence…but only momentarily. “Brenna…” Corinthians’s voice took on a serious tone when she gathered her wits after her best friend’s admission. “What do you know about him other than he’s good-looking, thoughtful, considerate, fun to be around, and a wow-me kisser? What personal info do you have on him? Why is he on the ship alone? What does he do for a living? Does he believe in God?”

  Brenna’s forehead bunched in confusion. She’d spent a good week and a half with Trent, and didn’t know any of those things. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had fallen in love with him. “He doesn’t talk about himself much. He enjoys hearing about me, my travels, my family and friends, basically anything I have to say.” Brenna took a deep breath. “That’s what’s so different about him. He acts as if he sees me as an interesting person, minus the body parts. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I know he’s attracted to me and everything, but he doesn’t act as if getting me into his bed is the only thing that interests him. He acts as if I interest him, and that’s so refreshing.”

  Corinthians nodded. “But still, don’t rush into anything. Find out everything you need to know about him, Brenna. I don’t care how good he kisses. I want you to be sure he’s the one you’ve been waiting for. I don’t want you to get hurt. You and I both know that even with all your talk, you’re a forever-kind-of-girl who needs a forever-kind-of-man. You owe it to yourself to make sure he’s all that before getting too involved.”

  Brenna took a deep breath, knowing her best friend’s advice had come a little too late. Falling in love with someone constituted an involvement in her book. Needing to change the subject and quickly, she asked, “And how are you feeling?”

  Corinthians rubbed her overly large stomach. “Fat. I’m ready for everything to be over. Trevor is a nervous wreck these days,” she said, thinking of the husband she totally loved and adored.

  “Well, you just have to stay fat until I get back. Don’t you dare have my godchild without me.”

  Corinthians laughed. “I won’t.”

  Trevor Grant walked into the room just as Corinthians was hanging up the phone. He couldn’t help noticing the frown on his wife’s face. “You’re okay?” he asked with deep concern in his voice.

  Corinthians looked up and saw the worried expression on his face. Smiling, she said, “Yes, I’m fine, and so is Baby Grant.” They had decided they didn’t want to know the sex of their child before it was born. All they wanted was a healthy baby, regardless of whether it was a boy or girl. “That was Brenna calling from the ship.”

  Trevor nodded. “She’s enjoying herself?”

  Corinthians’s smile sagged. “Yes. She may be enjoying herself a little too much. She’s met someone.”

  Trevor leaned against the closed door and looked at his wife thoughtfully. “So? I thought that was the reason you sent her on the cruise alone—so that she could meet someone.”

  Corinthians shook her head, smiling. She should have known she wasn’t putting anything over on Trevor. She had no secrets from the man. “So, you figured it out, huh?”

  “It was obvious. I’m sure even Brenna caught on to what you were up to.”

  Corinthians tried swallowing back the laughter that formed in her throat. Knowing Brenna, she probably had. “All I wanted was for her to have a good time, not fall in love.”

  Trevor lifted an eyebrow. “She’s fallen in love?”

  “So she thinks.”

  “And you don’t think she has?”

  Corinthians rolled her eyes. “Trevor, Brenna is too rational to fall in love with someone she’s known less than two weeks.” The frown returned to Corinthians’s features as she remembered the excitement in Brenna’s voice.

  “She’s a big girl who can take care of herself. I think
you’re worrying for nothing. For all we know, this guy may be just who she needs.”

  “And maybe he’s someone she doesn’t need.”

  “She’ll have to be the one to make that determination, Corinthians.”

  Corinthians nodded, knowing her husband was right. She lifted an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing back so soon?”

  Trevor smiled. “I got all the way to the corner. Then I realized that since you were on the phone when I left, I didn’t get this.” He leaned toward her, pulled her into his arms, and captured her lips in his.

  Chapter 23

  Callie Foster stood at the kitchen window, listening to what Shayla was saying. A troubled expression covered her face as she turned around. “Are you saying Thomas Jordache actually knew who you were?”

  Shayla nodded. “Yes. He’d seen a picture of Mama and me together in the newspaper not long after Dad’s death, and put two and two together. He figured out that she didn’t get an abortion and confronted her, and she told him the truth.”

  Callie crossed the room and sat down at the table. “She did?”

  Shayla glanced up when she heard the disbelief in her aunt’s voice. “That’s what he claims.” She reached over and captured her aunt’s hand. “I know the facts surrounding my birth were supposed to remain a secret between you, Mom, and Dad, but I guess she had to tell him. He had figured it out, anyway.”

  Although Callie nodded, she wasn’t too sure about that. “What else did he say?”

  Thirty minutes later, Shayla had told her aunt everything regarding her meeting with Thomas Jordache. “So what do you think, Aunt Callie? Should I believe him?”

  “It seems you already do.”

  Shayla nodded. “It’s hard to believe he’s actually dying. More than anything my heart goes out to Trent. His father loves him very much.”

  Callie studied her niece. “Are you sure Jordache really wasn’t just trying to milk you for information?”

  “Yes. He knew something. In fact, I think he knew more than he was saying.”

  “Shayla, I—”

  “No, Aunt Callie. I know what you’re about to say, and it’s too late. I’m already into this too deep. I love Nicholas too much to look away when he could lose everything.”

  “But you don’t know that for sure.”

  “No, all I have are gut feelings. Just like my gut feeling that Thomas Jordache wasn’t behind the fire and the break-in at Chenault Electronics. But I have no way of proving it.” Shayla released a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over her face. “Boy, what a mess.”

  Callie took a sip of her tea and looked at Shayla for the longest time before saying, “Yeah, what a mess.”

  Carl Stockard leaned back in the chair at his desk and gazed out the window with a huge smile on his face. Everything was falling nicely into place. Who would have thought that Shayla Kirkland had her own agenda, and was working behind the scenes with Thomas Jordache?

  Carl had followed her that day when she had hurried out of the building, and had watched her get into Jordache’s limousine. He’d known there was something suspicious about her from the start. He couldn’t wait until the boss returned from his trip to Bolivia. Solving this case would look good, and that’s what he was counting on, to look good in Mr. Chenault’s eyes. He would finally show Paul Dunlap once and for all what he could do. It was time for the man to retire. There was no sense in him hanging around any longer. He hoped this would show Dunlap that he was losing his touch, and wasn’t needed. And once he was out of the way, there was no doubt in Carl’s mind that he would be Nicholas Chenault’s top pick as his number one security man. That would mean living on easy street, running things his way as Chenault’s top security person.

  Carl shook his head, and his smile widened. Ms. Kirkland was certainly making things easy for him. Unfortunately, the news about her would come as a hard blow to the boss, since the two of them were having an affair. He grinned. Yeah, he had figured that out, too, which was an added bonus. Mr. Chenault would definitely be grateful he’d been saved from the clutches of a deceitful woman. In Carl’s book there was nothing worse than a woman who betrayed a man.

  Carl whirled around in his chair when he heard someone enter his office. A frown covered his face when he saw who his visitor was. He quickly got up and closed the door. “What the hell are you doing here? You know better than to—”

  “I can’t do it, Stockard. I can’t lie to Mr. Chenault any longer. His daddy was a good man. Alan Chenault would turn over in his grave if he knew what I’m allowing you to do.”

  Annoyed, Carl released a long sigh. He had no intention of letting anyone ruin his carefully laid plans. “I don’t care how good a man Alan Chenault was, Harris. You and I have an agreement. If you don’t want your wife and kids to find out about that little affair you carried on with Cindy Davenport, I suggest you continue to do what I say.”

  Silas Harris, who was normally a soft-spoken, easygoing person, suddenly reached out and grabbed Carl by the collar, shocking him with the force of his actions and the look of steel in his eyes. “I won’t let you blackmail me any longer, Stockard. I’ll go to Paul Dunlap and tell him everything.”

  Carl flashed a grin, and the look on his face was pure ice. “Yeah, you do that, and I’ll make sure you pay. I’m sure your wife, your son and daughter in college, your pastor, a few of your neighbors, and one or two others will enjoy receiving an unmarked videotape in the mail, one that shows what you really do after-hours. You know, the one I captured on tape of you screwing Cindy Davenport’s brains out in her apartment.”

  Carl felt Harris’s hold on his collar loosen. He saw the look in his eyes as they began to clear. “Get your hands off me, Harris, and I mean now.”

  When Harris released him Carl stepped back with a thin superior grin on his face. He straightened his collar and tie. “I suggest you pull yourself together. When all this is over I recommend that you take a nice long vacation with the wife. You seem a little distraught and overworked.”

  “There’s nothing going on between me and Cindy. She used me that one night.”

  Carl shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “No, I mean it. It was just that one time. She came on to me, tempting me with—”

  “Spare me the details, Harris. All I know is what I caught on the hidden camera. And as far as your being used goes, no one forced you to go to her apartment, so you’ll never convince me or anyone else that you didn’t get what you went looking for. That tape shows you were enjoying mounting her.”

  “The two of you set me up,” Harris said with a hard edge to his voice. “What was I to do when I got there and she began taking off her clothes?”

  “Maybe you should have acted like a gentleman and asked her to keep them on.” Carl sneered. “No matter what you think about it being a setup, Harris, after watching that video no one is going to believe you weren’t enjoying yourself. Think about it. Then think about all you have to lose—your job, twenty-five years of marriage, the respect of your children, your friends, and your community. I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. All I’m asking is that you use your expertise to stretch things a bit. I want Mr. Chenault to realize just how valuable I am to him. Trust me, things will work out. And if you’re worried he’ll figure things out, then don’t be. I have everything under control.”

  “But it’s all a lie. You orchestrated everything—the fire, the break-in, the virus.”

  A sneer curved Carl’s lips. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I? And I went to a lot of trouble doing it, and I won’t let you or anyone else ruin my plans. So think twice before running to Dunlap. You have as much to lose as I do. Maybe more. Now get out of my office.”

  Nicholas’s meeting ended one day ahead of schedule. He spent nearly half an hour on the phone in his hotel suite trying to get a flight out of Bolivia. When he hung up, he was satisfied. He would be able to return to the States a full day earlier than planned.

  With nothing else that he wanted to d
o at that moment, he stretched out on the bed, and thoughts of Shayla immediately consumed his mind. All through the four-day meeting it had been difficult for him to concentrate on business. His thoughts had been on her. In the time since he had met her, he had come to care deeply about her, emotionally and physically.

  Physically he could understand and easily accept. Emotionally, he could not.

  His heart moved against his ribs. He knew that whether he understood it or not, and accepted it or not, Shayla Kirkland had touched a part of him no other woman had.

  And that was what really bothered him.

  The necklace he had given her had been more than a piece of jewelry. The only woman he’d ever purchased expensive jewelry for had been his mother. But the moment he had seen the pendant behind the glass case in that exclusive jewelry store, he’d known he had to get it for her.

  Just as he knew she was the main reason he was chafing at the bit to return to Chicago.

  Still, the very thought that a woman could consume his thoughts and his mind so deeply was a hard one to swallow. He never thought about needing space when with her, and had proved that on a couple of occasions when she’d spent the night at his place, something that was a first for any woman.

  So what was bothering him? When he really thought things through and stopped looking for complications that weren’t there, he saw that in truth Shayla Kirkland was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

  Cindy Davenport was nearly wild with excitement when she opened the door to Carl Stockard late that afternoon. “So what’s the latest? When will we have Shayla Kirkland out of the picture?”

  Carl laughed as he entered Cindy’s home. He, of all people, knew of her obsession with Nicholas Chenault. The boss was a challenge to her, since he’d never shown her any interest. Carl also knew Cindy. They had worked together at another company some years ago, a company she had gotten fired from when someone had walked in on her and another employee making out in her office. Neither of them had had enough sense to lock the door.