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  Callie turned around to face him. Her expression was just as thunderous as his voice. “Don’t you dare question my decision. You don’t know what I went through to make it. You didn’t want me. You didn’t love me. I couldn’t afford to give my child the things it should have. I was still struggling through school. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask Eva to take care of my baby knowing she had lost her own, the only child her body could ever have. I loved my sister. I knew she would take care of Shayla, and give her everything I could not. I also knew that as long as Shayla was with Glenn and Eva I could see her whenever I wanted, and that I would always be a part of her life. And I have.”

  Tears Callie could no longer contain flowed from her eyes. “You had no right then, and you have no right now, to question me. You made your decision about me twenty-seven years ago.”

  Unable to say any more at the moment, Callie turned and rushed up the stairs, leaving Paul standing in the middle of the room.

  Brenna stood and gazed out at the ocean. This would be her last day aboard the Majestic. The same time midday tomorrow she would be able to watch as the docks of New York came into view. Once she left the ship she would take a taxi to the airport. There she would catch a plane to Austin—home sweet home.

  She sighed, knowing she should be overjoyed at the idea of returning home and planting her feet on solid ground and not having the constant rhythm of the ship moving under her. But she wasn’t. Leaving the ship also meant leaving Trent. Although he’d made it clear that love meant nothing to him, she still loved him, and would miss him just the same.

  A part of her wished things could have ended differently in his cabin that night. But, she thought as she left the window and went to sit on the side of the bed, another part was grateful that he had been so brutally honest with her. No matter how things had ended between them, in her mind and heart he would always be the most amazing man she had ever met. Every day she had spent with him had been special.

  But he couldn’t accept the kind of person she was. While some women were comfortable engaging in casual affairs, she wasn’t. She needed more from a relationship. She needed substance, she needed commitment, she needed love.

  Brenna had picked up her sunglasses and hat from the bed when she heard the soft knock at the door. Thinking it was the steward delivering the lunch she’d ordered, she crossed the cabin and opened the door.

  “Trent?”

  “Brenna.”

  She smiled wryly up at him, inwardly admitting that she was glad to see him. She had deliberately avoided him the last three days, taking most of her meals in her cabin.

  “May I come in?”

  She nodded and moved back to the center of the room.

  He stepped into the cabin and closed the door behind him, then leaned against it. “You’re all set to leave the Majestic tomorrow?”

  “Yes. What about you? Or will you be remaining on the ship?”

  “I’ll be remaining for a while,” he answered, not taking his eyes off her. “Probably for another day or so. Then I’m going to Chicago to check on my father.” He walked over to the window and stared out at passengers moving around on deck. Although they had enjoyed the trip, it was evident that they were ready to get back home. Three weeks were a long time, but that was all the time he had needed to fall in love.

  “Trent, there’s something I want to say to you,” Brenna said behind him.

  He slowly turned around to face her. “There’s something I want to say to you, too, but as a rule ladies are first.”

  Brenna nodded and plunged ahead. “I enjoyed our time together, and I’m going to miss you,” she said breathlessly, her nerves frazzled.

  Trent lifted an eyebrow as a slow smile tilted his lips. “I enjoyed our time together, too, but I’m not going to miss you. What I want more than anything is to marry you.”

  Brenna stood a few moments in stunned silence. “Marry me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Just so you can sleep with me?”

  Trent crossed the room to her. “No, this is nothing like the last time I got engaged, when one was dependent on the other. I want to marry you because I love you.”

  Brenna inhaled sharply as her mind raced back. “But just three nights ago you said—”

  “I know what I said. I was fighting my feelings for you then. My mind didn’t want to accept what my heart was saying. There’s more between us than sex. The time we’ve spent together on this ship has proved that. Women aren’t the only ones who want someone special. Just like women want a one-of-a-kind man, men want a one-of-a-kind woman. And I believe you’re that, and more. You’re a beautiful intelligent woman I want to share my life with. I want you by my side forever. This is all about love. I feel it every time I take you into my arms. I do love you, Brenna. I need to know how you feel about me. Do you love me, too?”

  Brenna smiled. Pure happiness showed in her eyes. “Yes, I do.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Today?”

  “Today!”

  “Yes, as soon as it can be arranged. Since we’re still in international waters, my captain can perform the ceremony at a moment’s notice. We can have another ceremony for the benefit of our family and friends whenever you want. I just don’t think I can let you leave this ship without binding you to me forever. But if you prefer that we wait, then I’m willing to do that, too. You’re definitely a woman worth waiting for.”

  He reached into his pocket and took out something wrapped in tissue paper. “This is my mother’s ring. I had my father air-flight it to me,” he said huskily, drawing her hand into his and slipping the ring on her finger.

  Tears pricked Brenna’s eyes as she looked at the huge diamond that graced the third finger of her left hand. “Oh, Trent, it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll love me forever, because that’s how long I intend to love you.”

  Brenna looked at him, smiling, then looked at the ring. “You’re completely serious about all of this, aren’t you?”

  To prove that he was, Trent pulled her to him and kissed her, letting her feel from his kiss what was in his heart, When his tongue touched hers, tingling heat raced through her entire body.

  Moments later she pulled back, withdrawing from the hot passion of his mouth but not from the warm embrace of his arms. “This is crazy. We’ve only known each other for three weeks,” she said softly against his moist lips. She’d never been one to act irrationally or rush into anything. She’d always prided herself on being logical and clearly thinking through any situation before acting on it.

  “What you’re proposing is insane, ludicrous, Trent.” But then, she thought, he had proposed, and she was wearing his ring to prove it. And to top it off, he was ready to marry her at a moment’s notice—today. Her mouth curved into a dreamy happy smile. What more could a girl ask for?

  She touched her lips to his. “And if we marry here, today, you’ll be willing to go through another wedding ceremony for our family and friends?” Corinthians would kill her if they didn’t.

  Trent chuckled against her lips. “Yes. I’ll say ‘I do’ as many times as you want me to, and mean it every time.”

  Brenna’s mouth curled at the comers. “I love you, Trent, and yes, I’ll marry you today.”

  Trent pulled her into his arms, claiming her mouth and again demonstrating the depth of his love for her.

  Chapter 27

  Nicholas stood up from his desk and walked to the window. His heart shouted a denial of everything Stockard had just told him and shown him, but his mind was forcing him to believe what his heart didn’t want to. Hurt welled deep in his throat, and anger surged through every part of his body.

  Shayla was the one who was betraying him.

  “Mr. Chenault, what do you want me to do now, sir?”

  Nicholas took a deep breath, although his chest felt as if it would burst from the overabundance of pain that had settl
ed there. His mind heard Stockard’s question, but he couldn’t acknowledge it with an answer. He didn’t know what he wanted him to do. He had to think for a minute. He turned back to the man who was staring at him, waiting for his answer. “I need to think about this, Stockard.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  Nicholas’s tone of voice was relatively calm in spite of his anger and his pain when he said, “No, Stockard, I don’t think you do.”

  “Not to be disrespectful, sir, but I do understand. I know there was something going on between you and Ms. Kirkland.” At Nicholas’s raised eyebrow, Stockard continued. “You pay me to be observant, sir.”

  Nicholas nodded slowly. He couldn’t dispute that.

  “That’s why it was hard for me to bring all this to you, but I felt you should be told as soon as possible. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong,” Stockard said, laying it on thick in his role as the efficient security man.

  “No, Stockard, you did everything right. Your efforts at finding out who’s working with Jordache are to be commended. I appreciate what you did, and I won’t forget it.”

  Stockard smiled brightly. That was what he wanted to hear. Mr. Chenault was playing right into his hands. All his scheming, and plotting, arranging the fire and the break-in, had been worth it. “Thank you, sir. I was just doing my job. Is there anything else I can do?”

  “No, you’ve done more than enough. You don’t know how appreciative I am. I’ll call you once I make my decision on how I’m going to handle this.”

  “Yes, sir.” Stockard then walked out of Nicholas’s office, closing the door behind him.

  Nicholas went back to his desk and picked up the items Stockard had presented to him. First was the page Stockard had ripped out of Shayla’s planner, an entry she had made while in China. She had written, “I’ll do whatever I have to to get Nicholas to lower his guard and trust me. Tonight at dinner I’ll put my plan into action, and begin working toward that goal.”

  Nicholas reread the entry a couple more times and each time he read it fury and anger poured through his veins. After putting it back down, he picked up a copy of the company’s telephone log, which listed all incoming and outgoing calls. Jordache had called the office twice in the last three weeks, and both times he had spoken to Shayla.

  Nicholas then picked up the photo that Stockard had taken of her getting into Thomas Jordache’s limo. According to Stockard, this had been her second meeting with Jordache, and the photo was taken yesterday.

  Yesterday.

  While he’d been in a frantic rush to get back to the States to see her, she had been planning the downfall of his company with Thomas Jordache. The rage Nicholas was beginning to feel at Shayla’s treachery was so thick it all but clouded his mind.

  He had trusted her. He had loved her.

  He still did.

  His heart began to ache. He was a pitiful soul to admit to still loving a woman who had betrayed him. A part of him cursed the day he’d met her. He felt that his whole life had suddenly fallen apart, and all because of her.

  He sighed when his anger became thunderous, almost unbearable. He would not let her and Jordache get away with this. He did not have enough evidence to bring legal charges against her, but he would make sure she remembered this day as long as she lived.

  Another thought occurred to him. The two times there had been incidents at the office in Jacksonville and here, he had been with Shayla when he had gotten the calls. Had she acted as a diversion? That possibility made his anger reach the boiling point.

  Picking up the phone, he dialed Leanne’s extension. He was so furious he could barely get his words out. “I gave Shayla Kirkland the day off. Call her at home and tell her something has come up and I need her to report to my office immediately. Then I want you to find Paul and tell him to get here as soon as possible.”

  Nicholas inhaled deeply, then added, “And Leanne, I want you to process Ms. Kirkland’s termination papers. I want them ready when she arrives.”

  Paul thought about following Callie upstairs, but changed his mind. She needed to be alone for a while. But he had no intention of leaving. He had more questions he wanted answered.

  He walked over to the window Callie had just left and looked out. Her announcement had been a blow to his mind. Shayla Kirkland was his daughter. Was that the reason he’d had this strange feeling every time he’d been around her? Did she know? And if she did, did she hate him? Was that the reason she’d always acted uncomfortable around him?

  He swallowed. That ill-fated night of twenty-seven years ago had happened just the way Callie had said. He hadn’t taken the time to ask how she had gotten to Jacksonville, or why she’d shown up in the middle of the semester—on a week night, at that. Earlier that day he had discovered Evangeline’s involvement with Jordache, and evidence indicating she’d been passing him information. He’d figured Callie had to have known, since she and her sister were so close. And if she had known, that meant that the two of them were working together with Jordache.

  He had been wrong—totally off base.

  Once he had discovered the truth that both Evangeline and Callie had been innocent and his charges groundless, he’d wanted to go to Callie and ask for her forgiveness. But he’d known she would never be able to forgive the things he had said to her. So he had accepted his fate, losing the only woman he’d ever loved. And now, to make matters worse, he knew that his actions on that night had also cost him knowing about his daughter. For twenty-seven years he had not known of her existence. A part of him knew he deserved the crushing blow he’d just been given.

  When he heard movement in the room, he turned around. Callie had returned. She had changed into a fashionable skirt and blouse, and stood across the room from him, twisting the strap of her purse in her fingers.

  “I know you have more questions, Paul. I have another couple of hours before I have to open my dress shop if you want answers now,” she said quietly. All traces of the tears were absent from her eyes. He felt the barrier she’d placed between them.

  “Yes, please. Can we sit down,” he asked in a subdued voice.

  She nodded. When he returned to his spot on her sofa she sat in the wing chair across from him.

  “First of all,” Paul began as he locked his gaze with hers, “I know this comes twenty-seven years too late. But I want to apologize for that night. I know I acted unforgivably. I loved you, and I should have trusted you and believed that you wouldn’t betray me. I had spent enough time with you that summer, and had made love to you enough times to know there wasn’t a dishonorable bone in your body.”

  He held his head down for a second, then raised it to capture her gaze once more. “But instead I was quick to think the worst, quick to be blinded by fury, because the evidence seemed so clear, and because I loved you so much. I said a lot of things to you that night. Some of them I remember, some I don’t. I wanted you to hurt the same way I was hurting. I’m so sorry for what I did to you, and to us.”

  He dragged in a deep breath. “After I found out the truth I knew that losing you would be my punishment for the rest of my life. Now I realize that having lost my daughter, as well, was another price I’ve paid, and deservedly so.”

  Callie said nothing. She just continued to look at him. She’d known from the moment she’d met Paul that he was proud, often stubborn and tenacious, but that deep down he was a good man. It had taken her a long time after that night to face the fact that he also was human, and that given the set of circumstances he’d reacted the way most men would have, with his head rather than his heart. Had he listened to his heart that night he would have known she was innocent. But talking about it now wouldn’t change what happened, nor would it erase the hurt. They had to move on, and right now Shayla was their main concern.

  “What brought you here, Paul? Is Shayla in some kind of trouble at work?”

  Paul leaned back on the sofa, noting the smoothness with which Callie had brought the conversation from
out of the past and into the present. He also noted she had not said whether she accepted his apology. “No, she’s doing a fine job. It’s just that every time she was around me she acted uncomfortable, as if she thought I knew something, and I couldn’t understand why. I got suspicious of her actions, and reviewed her file. Does she know I’m her father?”

  Callie shook her head. “No. Like you, she’s convinced Thomas Jordache is. Eva’s diary told what happened to her at Chenault, and her brief affair with Jordache. Shayla assumes she’s the result of that affair.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”

  Now it was Callie’s time to briefly look away. When she met his gaze again she said, “Because Eva had just died, and Shayla had read information in that diary that revealed Glenn was not her natural father. That in itself was a blow to her. I wasn’t going to hurt her any more by telling her that Eva wasn’t her mother, either, that the two people who raised her, who she assumed for twenty-six years were her natural parents, were her adoptive parents.”

  Paul nodded. “Why did she come to work for Chenault?”

  Callie hesitated only a moment before answering. “To get back at them for what they did to her mother. After reading Eva’s diary she felt her humiliation and her pain. She wanted someone at Chenault to pay.”

  “Nick?”

  A faint smile touched Callie’s lips. “Yes, Nicholas Chenault. Or so she thought, until she fell in love with him, which didn’t take her long. She left for China with revenge on her mind, and returned a week later with love in her heart.”

  The hint of a smile threatened on Paul’s lips. “Nick loves her.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Paul struggled to stay focused, but with Callie sitting across from him it wasn’t easy. She could still make his throat feel dry, and his lower body simmer. She looked so darn good. He shifted positions in his seat. “Did she mention to you that she got a glimpse of Thomas Jordache while she was in China?”

  Callie nodded. “She also met his son Trent. Shayla thinks he’s her half brother. It took all my will not to tell her he was actually her first cousin.”