Blackmailed by the Boss!

by

Raye Morgan

Chapter One

Chynna Braden stopped and listened, her heart beating wildly. Had she heard an elevator stop? She waited in the gloom of the empty room, but she didn’t hear another sound. She was all alone in an executive office at Kane Haley, Inc., and it was definitely after hours. The building was deserted.

She squinted into the dim light. Did they call this breaking and entering? Well, entering, anyway — entering handsome director of legal services Trent Payton’s office when she shouldn’t even be on this floor.

"Oh, Melinda," she muttered, half in despair, half in amusement. Her irrepressible sister always managed to put her into sticky situations like this. It happened all the time. Melinda got into messes and Chynna got her out of them.

"Just look for a green folder with a plastic clip at the top," Melinda had told her, anxiously wringing her hands. "If you can manage to bring that folder to me, you’ll save my life!"

"And risk losing my own in the process," Chynna murmured after bumping into a sharp corner and bruising her knee. She clicked on the little flashlight she’d brought along and shined the feeble beam around the walls, looking for the filing cabinets. A ray of light fell on a picture of Trent Payton with Kane Haley, the owner and president of the accounting firm and she paused for a moment, studying it.

The two had been college roommates, from what she’d heard, and they looked like men who had a strong bond of affection between them. They were both tall, dark-haired, and good-looking, but something in Trent appealed to her in an inexplicable way. Something in his eyes, something in the way his mouth twisted, something in his face, all told her he didn’t trust life to be fair — that he didn’t give his heart easily.

But it was silly for her to be thinking that way. She’d seen the man from a distance, but she didn’t know him at all. And from what her sister, who had worked as his administrative assistant for a short time, had told her, he was as vain and arrogant as they came. Still, there was something in his eyes.…

A small clicking sound made her jump, but it was just the air-conditioning system coming on and she collected herself. She had to get this done!

Quickly, she moved toward the wooden filing cabinet, hoping the drawers weren’t locked. The first drawer pulled open with no problem, but the orderly files didn’t include any hint of green. She tried the second drawer, then the third, and finally hit pay dirt. There it was, right at the back behind the tightly packed folders.

She reached out to take it and her fingers actually touched the clip for a fraction of a second. And then a larger, darker hand grabbed hers. Her flashlight went flying and she let out a shriek.

"Looking for something, Melinda?"

The lights came on and the room spun as she whirled. Her gaze rose, taking in the impeccable Italian suit, the crisp white shirt, the extravagantly wide shoulders, the smooth, tan skin…and finally stared up into Trent Payton’s cool blue gaze.

There was certainly nothing appealing in his eyes now!

Chapter Two

The beautiful intruder had stunning green eyes and Trent saw the startled look in them change with quick intelligence as she got her bearings.

"Melinda?" she said innocently, blinking at him. "Sorry, I’m not Melinda. You must have the wrong office." And she turned to go, head in the air.

His flash of original anger faded, replaced by a sense of grudging admiration for her cheek. But he wasn’t about to let her get away with it. She brushed past him, leaving a trail of rose-flavored scent as she moved, but he reached out and took possession of her upper arm before she got out the door.

"Nice try," he said, pulling her back and speaking in a low voice very near her ear. "But not quite good enough."

She glanced up at him and he noted once again that she did look a lot like a certain Melinda Braden who had worked in this office with him for a couple of months. Where Melinda’s beauty had been all flash and no substance, this one had a softer, quieter charm; still, they looked very much alike. He had no doubt that had been Melinda’s file she had been reaching for. Most likely, she was cut from the same con-artist cloth.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

She hesitated, gaze flickering toward the doorway and escape. "I’m not accustomed to giving my name to strangers," she began, but he cut her off with a rude oath.

"I just caught you burglarizing my office."

"I was not burglarizing your office," she said indignantly, her eyes shining with offended innocence. "Now please let me go."

"Not so fast," he murmured, his gaze trailing down the graceful curve of her neck and back again.

Her eyes were wary, hiding any emotions behind a calm facade. The thick curls of her blond hair were rebelling against the professional twist she’d tried to tame them with and wiry strands were escaping all around her pretty face.

Despite everything, she had a look he liked. For just a moment, he almost felt as though a part of him yearned for something he saw in her. But that was pure fancy and he shrugged it away. Sentiments like that didn’t fit with his cynical view of relationships. "Yearning" was for chumps.

Still, he knew she was more his type than the women he was going to be meeting tonight at the cocktail party his mother had arranged. Margaret Payton wanted her son married and she was sparing no expense. She was also forcing him to deal with an endless string of eligible yet unappealing women and demanding he choose one to spend his life with. If only more of them looked like this one.

"I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait here while I contact Security." He reached for the telephone with his free hand. "I’m sure they’ll want to notify the police about an intruder in the building."

She caught her breath, her eyes luminous, visions of her job going down the drain creating nightmares in her head. "Please…please don’t."

He gazed at her coolly. "Give me a reason not to."

She hesitated and he shrugged and resumed punching in the number. Mercy wasn’t in the cards, no matter how much her soft curves and pretty face appealed to him.

Chapter Three

Chynna grabbed Trent’s hand, stopping him before he’d finished the number. "I’m not an intruder," she insisted. "I…I work here."

He cocked a skeptical eyebrow. A face like this he would have noticed. "Identify yourself."

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. "I’m Chynna Braden. I’m a designer, doing the decorating in the new day care center. I just started this week."

"Ah." He replaced the receiver, his dark eyes scanning hers. "You’re related to Melinda, aren’t you?"

She nodded, looking stubborn but resigned. "I know she worked for you."

"For a few weeks, yes." His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were still filled with the wary cynicism she’d noticed in the picture. "I suppose you were just sightseeing then? Taking a look at where your sister once worked?"

She looked into his face with hope, but immediately saw that he was mocking her. "I’ve told you who I am. You can see that I’m not a threat to you in any way. Why don’t you let me go?"

The fingers that held her arm moved, feeling more like a caress than a punishment. A tiny shiver slithered down her spine. Suddenly his smile seemed dangerous in a whole new way.

"We’re all alone, you know," he said softly. "The night cleaning crew hasn’t even arrived. Except for Security down on the first floor, there’s only you and me."

"That’s exactly what’s worrying me," she retorted, giving him an impudent frown. "You do have a reputation, you know."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he laughed aloud. "I have a reputation," he said, chuckling. "You’re the one I caught rifling through my files." He grinned at her. "Are you trying to say we’re a pair of reprobates? Birds of a feather?"

She wasn’t trying to say anything at all. She was still too busy trying to recover from the stunning effect his laugh had on her nervous system. He was just too sexy for his own good…well, for her good, at any rate. She could see why her sister had been tempted into having an affair with the man. But that very fact made it doubly imperative that she not do the same.

"Well, don’t worry, my fastidious little burglar," he said, his laughter dying away. "I’m not attempting a seduction. I’m only considering a little blackmail."

That startled her. "Blackmail?"

"Yes." His hand slid down to catch hold of her fingers. "Here’s how it works. Do what I want you to do — or go to jail."

She scoffed at him. "No one is going to throw me in jail for visiting your office uninvited," she told him, tugging to get her hand free but having no success.

"You think not? Even though the local authorities happen to owe me a favor?"

Her shoulders sagged. She knew very well he came from a wealthy and influential family and she had no doubt what he said was true. If he wanted her inconvenienced for a while, she would be inconvenienced.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Nothing very terrible," he said soothingly. "All I need is that you come with me to a party I have to attend tonight."

She searched his eyes, looking for the catch. "That’s it?"

His slow smile reappeared. "No. There’s one more thing." He raised her fingers to his lips. "You have to pretend to be in love with me," he said, just before he kissed them.

Chapter Four

"You’re crazy," Chynna said breathlessly. She could still feel the kiss on her skin and the area tingled. "I…I can’t do that."

"Then you’ll go to jail."

Trent finally let go of her fingers and she backed a step away.

"Why?" she asked simply. "Why do you want me to do this?"

"Because I’m about to walk into the lion’s den," he told her smoothly. "And it occurs to me I could use a shield."

She shook her head. "I’m afraid I’m not very good at deciphering riddles. Why don’t you just tell me?"

"You’ll figure it out soon enough. But first things first," he added, looking her up and down. "You’ll need to change."

"Sorry," she quipped, tossing her head. "I kind of like me the way I am."

"Your clothes," he explained patiently. "The party is at the Cascade. Your skirt and sweater aren’t dressy enough." Reaching into a closet at the back of his office, he pulled out a dress and held it up for her to see. "What do you think of this? I’ll bet it will fit."

She gasped softly. Turquoise silk as soft as gossamer floated over a royal blue sheath with a snug, beaded bodice. Involuntarily, she reached out to touch it.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Here. Put it on."

She looked up into his eyes and then her chin lifted rebelliously as she backed away. "I haven’t said I would do it yet," she reminded him.

He sighed. "You’ll look fantastic in this thing and you know it. Certainly it will look better than prison stripes. Come on, Chynna." His mouth twisted cynically. "Be my love."

She flashed him a glare but then bit her lip, thinking. "Tell you what," she said at last. "I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do it if you promise…" She paused. Should she admit what she’d been after? But he probably already had guessed. "If you promise to let me have Melinda’s letters."

His eyes were suddenly flat and expressionless as tinted glass. "You mean the contents of the folder you were reaching for?"

She nodded.

He looked at her quizzically. "There is only one letter in that folder," he said slowly. "And you don’t want to see it. Though I can understand why Melinda might want to get it out of my hands." A wry smile played with the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were cool. "What’s the matter? Doesn’t she trust me?"

Chynna flushed. "She would like to have her letter back. If you were a gentleman…"

"But I’m not, so the question is moot." He shook his head. "Sorry, Chynna. That folder must stay here in my office. And we need to get to the party."

"But…"

"Get dressed, Chynna," he said quietly, touching her cheek with his forefinger, setting off a trail of sensation. "We’re late. And I plan to make quite an entrance."

Chapter Five

The Cascade was a swanky private club and Chynna was very glad she’d worn the blue silk dress — though she assumed it must belong to one of Trent’s many rumored paramours. He had been right — it fit like a glove. And when she’d seen the look in his eyes as she came out of the ladies’ room all ready to go, she’d felt the kind of thrill she used to get as a kid at the fair when the roller coaster went into a steep dive.

She glanced at him as they made their way toward the lobby, noting that he looked awfully good himself. Then she had to smile. What a hypocrite she was! After all, if Trent were a troll, she probably would have called his bluff and opted for the cops. But he was attractive. In fact, he was downright gorgeous, and here she was, wondering how a small expedition to retrieve her sister’s love letters had turned into this.

They hesitated just outside the entrance. Trent had explained that the party was being given for him by his mother, and Chynna was just a little nervous. Mrs. Payton was famous for her philanthropy — and for her tough exterior. A small orchestra was playing a Strauss waltz against a background of the clinking of expensive crystal mixed with light conversation. Chynna shook her head. The party even sounded upper crust.

"Ready?" he asked, folding her hand into the crook of his arm.

She looked up into his blue eyes and wrinkled her nose. "I don’t know," she said impishly. "Pretending to be in love with you won’t be easy."

He laughed softly and she felt a warm glow spreading deep inside.

Funny, but he’d been laughing a lot and she found she really liked it. His humor had improved ever since his eyes had lit up at the sight of her all dressed up.

It had been a long time since a man had looked at her like that. It had been a long time since she’d made any attempt to produce that sort of reaction. Her last romance had left her with so much pain, she’d pretty much decided relationships weren’t worth the risk, and she’d dressed accordingly. But Trent was reminding her of what it was like to be admired by an attractive man — how delicious it could be.

"If we try real hard," he said, leaning close so that his warm breath tickled her ear, "I think we can work something out. Practice makes perfect."

She heard the sensual promise in his tone and she spared him a fleeting smile, though a voice inside was scolding, "You should not be flirting with this man!" and she knew it was right. But she told herself they were just getting in the right mood for the parts they were about to play. And she almost believed it.

They swept into the room. For a moment, Chynna was blinded by the flash from the chandeliers, but as her vision cleared, she realized they were strolling into a small crowd that parted like the Red Sea at their approach. And then they were standing in front of a tall, regal woman with iron gray hair and proud blue eyes.

"Mother," Trent was saying. "I’d like you to meet someone very special. This is Chynna Braden. She has graciously consented to be my wife."

The woman had to be shocked by the news, but she didn’t let it show.

"Well, Trent," she said softly. "You might have let me know."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he told her smoothly.

"Oh, I’m surprised," Mrs. Payton said, fixing him with a steely glare. "Surprised and utterly unconvinced."

Chapter Six

Despite her harsh words, Mrs. Payton stretched out a hand and took one of Chynna’s.

"Come sit with me, my dear," she said firmly. "I want to get to know you. And I want to hear every detail of your supposed love for my son."

Chynna’s heart began to race. She hadn’t been prepared for quite this hostile a reception and she looked to Trent for a rescue. Luckily, he obliged.

"Later, Mother," he said, just as firmly as his mother had spoken. "Right now, I think Chynna and I should lead the others in a dance."

Chynna noted the look between the two of them and instinct told her she was being thrust into an argument that had been going on long before she arrived. But there was no time for analysis, as Trent was taking her into his arms and she was immediately intoxicated by his clean male scent.

For a few minutes the rhythm of the music and the power of his body against hers threatened to send her reeling. But she regained her senses slowly, and as she did, she realized they were the only ones dancing, and that all the others had formed a circle around them and were staring intently.

"It’s almost all women," she whispered as she looked around the room. "Trent, what is going on?"

"It’s a marriage mart," he told her with a grimace. "My mother’s idea. She’s brought in every eligible woman she could find — daughters of her friends, mostly. I was supposed to pick a bride from among them."

She stared up at him. "You’re not serious!"

He shrugged lightly, as though it was nothing really out of the ordinary. "I have certain responsibilities, according to my mother. One of them is to marry and procreate. Carry on the family name." His mouth twisted. "Something I have resisted for a good long time. She’s almost as disappointed in that as she is in the fact that I went into law instead of medicine."

She let herself relax a little closer to him. "Partial to doctors, is she?"

"Definitely. I come from a long line of them."

"I see. So you’re a rebel."

"I prefer to see myself as an independent thinker." He gave her a quick smile. "But since I failed her there, she thinks I owe her a wife and family. And she is annoyingly proactive about it."

Chynna finally thought she understood. "So that is why we’re pretending…."

He quickly stopped her words with a kiss and she gasped.

"Quiet," he reminded her with a significant look. "The point about pretending is that you do it secretly."

Then his gaze dropped to her lips and his eyes darkened. "But to be convincing, we really ought to do more of that kissing," he murmured, and immediately followed through on the suggestion.

Chapter Seven

This was the pretending part, Chynna reminded herself groggily, yet it was hard to keep that in mind when Trent’s mouth was so hot and his tongue was searching for a response from hers. The room faded and all she could concentrate on was the sense of him, so large, so strong, and so very delicious.

But all that came to an end as the music died away and those watching crowded closer. A tall, redheaded woman with a superior air was the first to speak.

"Is this true, Trent?" she demanded, stepping forward. "Are you really engaged?"

Trent draped an arm around Chynna’s shoulders in a protective gesture. "It’s true, Karyn. I’m finally spoken for."

The woman was furious. "I flew all the way out here from Boston for nothing!"

"You poor dear. Your arms must be killing you." A pretty woman in scarlet joined them, giving Trent a grin and the complaining woman an arch look. "And you really ought to go wash those bugs off your teeth, Karyn. Such an ugly sight." She pretended to shudder, but all the time she was looking Chynna up and down.

The woman named Karyn retreated, outraged, but the newcomer stayed, offering her hand.

"Hi. I’m Julie. And I must say, you look almost as good in my dress as I do."

"Your dress?" Chynna turned to Trent in alarm, but he was smiling at the woman named Julie with obvious affection.

"Meet my kid sister, Chynna," he said. "Sorry about the dress, Julie. It was an emergency situation. I shanghaied her to come to this party and she didn’t have time to go home and change."

"You mean, this is your sister’s dress?" Chynna was finally getting the picture.

Julie laughed, reading her mind. "You thought it belonged to one of his old girlfriends, didn’t you? It’s mine. I keep a few items of clothing at Trent’s office for the times I’m in town and need a quick change." She patted Chynna’s arm. "Don’t worry, Chynna. His reputation as a womanizer is highly overrated. I’ve seen him home with a book to keep him warm many a night and…"

"Julie is quite a little storyteller," Trent interrupted, taking Chynna’s arm and maneuvering her away from his sister. "Which reminds me. It’s about time to tell some stories to my mother."

"Do I have to?" Chynna dreaded this. "We really didn’t plan anything and..."

"Just tell her the truth," he said.

She frowned, not sure what he meant by that. "That we met tonight and fell madly in love?" she asked helplessly.

His crystal-blue eyes were hard to read. "Is that the truth?"

She hesitated, not sure if he was mocking her, or just teasing. But it was too late to find out. He was presenting her to his mother again.

Chapter Eight

"Tell me, my dear," Mrs. Payton said as she patted the seat next to where she was sitting signaling for Chynna to sit beside her. "Who are your people?"

Chynna blinked as she sat. "Well, I’m an American, if that’s what you mean."

She heard Trent stifle a laugh and knew she’d made a faux pas. But Mrs. Payton went on calmly. "No, dear. I’m asking about your family. Your parents. Your grandparents."

"She grew up in a little sod house on the prairie," Trent began in a tremulous voice. "Her father toiled in the fields while her mother…"

"My son is quite the comedian," the older woman said tartly. "But I’m sure he will remember his manners soon and let you speak for yourself."

"My father was an electrician," Chynna said quickly, giving Trent a look. "And my mother was a housewife. They were killed in a car accident when I was 13. My sister, Melinda, dropped out of school and got a job so that we could stay together. She put me through college." She glanced at Trent again, wondering if he knew that about Melinda. It was the background behind why she felt such a debt to her sister.

"I see," Mrs. Payton was saying, looking slightly stunned. "And where did you attend college?"

"Oh, State, of course. I got a degree in design there."

"State," she echoed faintly, making it sound like something she’d found wrapped in greasy newspapers.

"Mother prefers the Ivy Leagues," Trent said, his mouth thin with barely suppressed annoyance. "Or something small and northeastern in the liberal arts."

"Trent!" his mother said warningly.

"In fact, I believe your maid’s daughter is going to State, isn’t she?" he asked. "I hope she turns out as well as Chynna has."

Looking from one to another of these two, Chynna had a sudden flash of insight. Obviously, Trent had spent a lifetime warding off his mother’s clumsy attempts to take charge of his life. And after the way Mrs. Payton had treated her, ordinarily Chynna might have felt resentment and gone completely to Trent’s side. But looking at the man who’d brought her here, she saw frustration and annoyance, and an underlying sense of guilt that complicated matters.

And looking at his mother, she saw the bitterness, but she also noted the sad bewilderment of a mother who saw the ones she loved best slipping from her in some deep, emotional way. Trent’s mother would be the inevitable loser in this fight. For some inexplicable reason, Chynna’s heart went out to the woman.

Acting on impulse, she took her hand.

"Mrs. Payton, please don’t be upset about this," she told her earnestly. "Our engagement is very new and we are going to need some time to decide if it will stick. Please don’t consider this an inexorable march toward the altar at this time. Anything could happen."

Oh, dear. Now she’d done it. She looked at Trent, then his mother, expecting them both to be angry. But Trent was looking baffled and his mother was staring at Chynna as though she weren’t quite sure if she were sane or not. Had she blown the whole charade?

Chapter Nine

The city streets were slick with a cold rain that had fallen an hour or so earlier, and the streetlights were reflected in the puddles that had formed, making for a night almost as full of sparkle as Las Vegas. Trent directed his low sports car according to instructions Chynna gave him, his pace slowing as he realized he didn’t really want to take her home.

They’d stayed until after midnight. Kane Haley, his boss and old college roommate, had showed up and danced with Chynna and with Julie and the four of them had laughed and talked for a long time.

Some things about Chynna had surprised and intrigued Trent. He just had to remind himself Chynna was the same sort of operator her sister had turned out to be. Which was the reason he’d asked for her help in the first place.

"Do you think in the end your mother believed it?" Chynna asked him.

"It doesn’t really matter. I think she’s finally starting to accept the fact that I’m not marrying anyone, especially not someone she pushes at me."

Chynna was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "She loves you, you know."

He glanced at her pretty profile. "Of course she loves me. That’s just the problem."

"Be kind to her." She sighed. "You’re lucky you have a mother."

He didn’t answer, but he did insist on accompanying her to her door. As they waited for the elevator to arrive, she turned to him and smiled.

"I just want to thank you for this evening."

"Thank me?" Her face looked so lovely in the dim light, he found himself wanting to stare, to fix a copy of her picture in his mind forever.

"Yes." Her quick grin looked impish. "I actually had a lovely time, despite all the ups and downs. It’s been so long…." Her voice trailed off and her grin faded.

He caught the note of pain in her voice and looked at her curiously. "I assume you’re not married," he said casually. "Are you dating anyone special?" He hated to admit how closely he was watching her face for her reaction to that question.

"I’m not dating anyone at all," she said firmly, her chin high. "And I don’t plan to. I gave all that up a long time ago."

Turning toward her, he couldn’t resist touching her cheek. "Who hurt you, Chynna?" he asked softly, searching her eyes. "What happened?"

She lowered her gaze, avoiding his scrutiny. "That was a long time ago. It’s irrelevant now."

He frowned, wondering why he felt such a strong, irrational desire to get revenge for her. The impulse was ridiculous. She wasn’t his. And the elevator had arrived.

"I’m glad you had a good time," he told her as he escorted her aboard. "Even though I had to blackmail you into going with me."

She laughed, her mood changing like a summer day. She led him off and into a hallway. "Here’s my apartment."

"I guess this is it." His smile was lopsided. "Shortest engagement on record."

The urge to kiss her grew in his chest and he started toward her, hungry for another taste of her warmth. But something in the look on her face, some fear, some warning stopped him.

Looking away, she quickly fumbled for her key and fit it into the door.

"Well, good night," she said brightly, gave him one last smile, and disappeared into her apartment.

He stood staring at the closed door, uttered a low oath, and finally turned back toward the elevator.

Chapter Ten

Chynna let herself into her apartment with a sigh. She felt like Cinderella coming home from the ball.

"Goodbye Prince Charming," she murmured to herself. "Hello boring old life."

"Chynna?"

"Oh!" She jumped, then saw her sister getting up out of a chair in the darkened living room. "Melinda! What are you doing here?" she cried, her hand over her heart.

"Do you have it?" Melinda’s gaze raked over her. "Did you get the folder?"

Chynna sighed. "Melinda, I told you I’d call you first thing in the morning."

Her sister’s eyebrows came together as she realized what her answer was. "That’s some dress. I didn’t know you had a date tonight."

Date! Chynna groaned silently. And suddenly she realized she couldn’t tell Melinda about what had happened. She just couldn’t talk about Trent with her.

"Melinda, I do have a life," she said, avoiding her sister’s gaze and already hating herself for not telling the whole truth. "And as for the folder, no, I wasn’t able to get it. I’ll have to try again."

Melinda sulked, but it was late and she left soon after. Chynna carefully took off the beautiful dress and got ready for bed, but she lay awake for a long time, mulling over all that had happened.

The time she’d spent in Trent’s arms had been magical. She felt the thrill again as she went back over each scene. He was a wonderful man in many ways. If only things were different…

But things were the way they were. She’d been in love before. Robert had been just as handsome, just as charming, and he’d turned out to be a liar and a cheat. That realization had stunned her, because she considered herself a fairly intelligent woman and she hadn’t caught a hint of it on her own. If she could be so wrong once, how could she ever trust her heart?

And then there was Melinda. Everything that was good in her life seemed to have come at her sister’s expense. There had been a time when Melinda had given up everything to make Chynna’s life easier. She owed her so much. And all Melinda wanted was her love letter to Trent back so that she could put an end to that episode of her life. Instead of getting it back, Chynna had spent a wonderful evening with the man who was holding on to it.

Why couldn’t she tell Melinda the truth? After all, she’d been blackmailed into going out with Trent. And it was all Melinda’s fault. And yet, here she was, unable to tell her. That should prove to her how impossible it would be to even dream of any sort of relationship developing with him.

You've barely known the man for a few hours, she reminded herself. It was a Cinderella adventure. But you didn't leave any slippers behind, and no prince is going to come looking for you. Grow up!

Chapter Eleven

No slippers perhaps, but Chynna had forgotten the little flashlight she'd used to look for the folder the night before. It was the first thing Trent saw when he went into his office in the morning. He picked it up and stared at it.

His mind went back over the previous evening. Such a short time ago, and yet somehow things had changed because of it. He knew he felt different, had a new sense of restlessness. Was it all because of Chynna? Tossing the flashlight into the air, he caught it handily and smiled, then set off to find her.

He finally located her in a conference room she'd taken over for her work. The table was covered with sketches, and a half-painted mural sat propped against one wall. Chynna herself was bending over a plan she was editing at her easel.

She jumped up when she saw him, her eyes wide, a smudge of blue paint on her nose. He looked at the way the sun lit her upturned face and he realized she made him smile for no reason at all.

"Hi," he said, looking down into her green eyes and holding out the flashlight.

"Hi," she said back, taking the flashlight and murmuring her thanks. "Oh, I dropped the dress at the cleaners on the first floor. Here's the claim ticket for it."

He pocketed it and looked around at her work, his attention drawn especially to a long mural with fluffy animals cavorting toward a pond where a cute frog waited for them.

"It's just an idea for the day care center walls," she said. "I'm meeting with Matt Holder, the director of human resources, after lunch to give him my thoughts and see how he likes them."

The drawings looked darn cute to Trent. "You seem to know a lot about babies," he said casually, glancing at her sideways.

"I'm thinking of specializing in day care centers and preschools," she admitted.

He frowned at her curiously. "You don't have any children of your own. What makes you so interested?"

She shrugged. "That may be why. I don't expect I'll ever have any of my own. Marriage isn't in my plans."

For some reason, that sounded immoral to him. Someone as beautiful and downright nice as Chynna should reproduce in kind.

She saw the skepticism in his face and decided to try to make him understand. "I almost got married once," she told him as she untied the apron she wore to protect her sweater and skirt from the paints. "Then when I found out the truth about the man I thought I was so crazy in love with, I realized I wasn't a very good judge of character. So I doubt I'll risk making a mistake like that again."

He frowned, partly to cover up the fact that just watching her take off an apron was giving him a bit of a buzz. "That seems a little simplistic. One bad experience and you sign off on marriage forever?"

She turned and laughed at him, pushing her curly mass of blond hair back behind her ear. "Look who's talking! You're the one who's blackmailing people to avoid having to commit. You pretended to be planning to marry me, and you don't even know me."

Suddenly, he wanted to kiss her in the worst way. "I know you now," he said, leaning closer, looking at her lush, beautiful mouth.

She shook her head. "You hardly know me at all." Her eyes darkened and she took a step backward. "I may be tougher than you think." She stared at him sternly. "Tell me. Have you reconsidered giving me my sister's love letter?"

Chapter Twelve

"Love letter?" Trent's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Who said it was a love letter?"

Chynna blinked, startled by his reaction. "What else could it be?"

He snorted, turning from her. "What your sister and I had together could hardly be called an affair of the heart."

Of course. She knew that. He didn't have love affairs. He had sexual encounters. That was what everyone said.

Suddenly she felt a surge of sympathy for a man who couldn't find someone to love. Reaching out, she put her hand on his arm and looked up into his face.

"Has your heart ever been touched in any meaningful way?" she asked him softly.

His mouth hardened and so did his gaze. "Sure."

She searched in the shadows of his blue eyes. "I don't believe you."

His own hand covered hers, lacing fingers. "Then I'll prove it to you," he said huskily, and he leaned toward her again.

This time she couldn't move. Frozen to her spot, she closed her eyes and felt his mouth come down on hers, felt her own lips part to accept him, felt him slide inside her, felt the urge to melt against him, hold him close, hold him dear.

But it was all a sham and she knew it. Balling her hands into fists, she shoved hard and pulled herself away from him.

"That's not your heart," she said a bit breathlessly, staring up into his dark face. "That's your libido." She licked her lips, trying to deny her own reaction to his seduction but her hands were trembling. "Besides, the blackmailing period is over," she insisted. "I don't have to pretend to love you anymore. And you don't have to pretend to love me."

Their gazes met and locked but in seconds, the spell was broken. The door swung open and six people streamed into the room.

"Oh, there they are!" one of them called out.

Maggie Steward, Kane Haley's assistant, was leading the group. She'd become quite friendly with Chynna over the past week or so.

"Hey!" she cried. "Your secret is out. It's all over the office. Congratulations, you two!"

They looked at the newcomers, slowly realizing what was going on. Obviously, someone who had been at the party the night before had spilled the beans.

"I didn't even know you knew each other!" said Lauren Connor, a secretary at the firm.

"This is so great," Maggie said, smiling at them. "Have you set the date yet?"

Chynna tried to smile back. This had to be countered right away, but she wasn't sure how to do it. "Well, not exactly," she said. She turned to Trent, waiting to let him do the explaining.

He hesitated, gave her a hapless smile, took her hand, and held it tightly against his chest.

"We're thinking about June," he said brightly. "Or maybe a Christmas wedding, if we just can't wait."

"What?" she said with a gasp, but her exclamation was drowned out by the general cries of celebration and well-wishing from the others.

Chapter Thirteen

Trent put an arm around Chynna's shoulders and pulled her close, but he did give her an apologetic look. All he got from her was a glare of outrage.

"How did this happen?" she asked him fiercely, pulling away from his embrace as the others began to file happily from the room.

"I didn't say a word to anyone," he protested. "But Kane was there last night. And my sister, Julie, is good friends with Jennifer Martin, the Benefits Manager…."

"I guess we should have known it would get out," Chynna admitted. "But you didn't have to compound the problem the way you did!"

He hesitated, looking just a little sheepish. "Well, actually…one of the reasons I was looking for you was to ask if you would mind carrying on this pretense a little longer."

So it was ask now. No more blackmailing? She looked at him quizzically. "Why?"

"Well, you see…" He coughed awkwardly. "My father heard about it and he's coming to town just to meet you."

"Your father?" From what she'd heard Matt Payton was more likely to be on a jet flying to an international medical symposium or advising foreign governments on how to manage their health care than to be in Chicago with his family.

"My mother is planning a dinner party next Friday night to introduce you to him, and to the rest of our family." His smile was engaging, as usual. "Will you come?"

She shook her head, the push and pull of wishes and fears tearing apart her confidence. She was dangerously attracted to this man. The longer they stayed together, the harder it was going to be when they had to part at last.

"Trent, what's the point?" she asked him worriedly.

He looked at her and scratched his head in an uncharacteristic way. "I don't know," he said, and his sincerity was obvious. His dark eyes softened with something that looked an awful lot like affection. "But I want you there. And it's making everyone so damn happy."

"Including you?" she asked softly, more in wonder than in exasperation.

He nodded slowly, looking puzzled, as though he couldn't figure it out himself.

She was going. Of course she was going. What else could she do?

Oh, stop playing the tragic heroine, a voice inside her chided. You know you want to go. You know you want to be with him every minute you can.

And that was true. Still, she knew she ought to be resisting all of this.

She was falling in love again. Falling in love with a playboy who didn't know what love meant. How crazy was that?

Chapter Fourteen

The Payton mansion was just as impressive as Chynna had imagined it would be, and yet it had a homey, lived-in quality that surprised her. Even the help was friendly and accommodating, more like family members than servants.

She was nervous, clinging to Trent's arm as he escorted her into his family home. What was she doing here? It was a little hard to say for sure.

The past few days had been like a dream. Everyone thought she was engaged to Trent, and he had fulfilled expectations by staying near her most of the time at work.

At first she'd thought the whole thing was ridiculous, but as time went on, she had to admit, she'd grown to like it. A lot. They had coffee together in the morning, looking over the newspaper and schedules for the day. They went out to long lunches, eating in lovely restaurants with views of the lake or of the Magnificent Mile. They held hands and gave each other significant looks and even stole a kiss or two in the hallways.

It was almost as good as being in love. Almost.

The dream had an abrupt wake-up every evening. She couldn't allow him to visit her apartment and she avoided going out with him, as well. She hadn't found a way to tell Melinda about what was going on, and until she got up the courage to do that, she couldn't risk her sister finding out on her own. And the guilt from that was eating away at her.

She'd tried to reconstruct those old conversations with her sister from a few months before. What had Melinda said exactly? She'd been hired as a temporary worker while Trent's administrative assistant was on maternity leave. Chynna remembered how excited she'd been, how she'd raved about her new boss. Chynna had been so happy for her because her work history had been spotty at best, filled with disappointments and unfair treatment. It looked as though she'd finally found her niche, and when Melinda began to hint that the boss was doing more than just flirting with her, she'd worried, afraid her sister was falling into the same old trap she'd fallen into before.

Suddenly, the job was out the window and Melinda was in the depths of despair once again, telling Chynna that her heart was broken, that Trent had turned out to be just another rat in a whole long line of rodents in her life.

When Melinda told her about the love letters he was keeping as a way to manipulate her, Chynna had been outraged. She'd wanted to confront him right then and there. Melinda had taken another job right away but she hated it and she'd been strangely obsessed with the letters, as though she couldn't get her life back on track until she got hold of them and had them destroyed.

So when Chynna had been assigned to do the planning on the day care center at Kane Haley, she'd promised her sister she would get those letters back for her, one way or another.

Trent had told her there was only one letter, which had made her wonder. Still, he had shown a propensity to using blackmail to get his way, hadn't he? That seemed to fit with the rest of the story.

She looked up at him now as he led her into his family estate and wondered if he could really be the same man who had treated her sister so badly. Catching her gaze, he smiled and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. Her lips tingled, but a small circle of dread began to grow in her chest. She was very much afraid she was, once again, in love with the wrong man.

Chapter Fifteen

Rich people were supposed to be snooty. But someone forgot to tell the Paytons. The entire family couldn't have been nicer to Chynna.

She was a bit intimidated at first. There were just so many of them, and she wasn't used to large families. She was introduced to so many people, she quickly lost track of who was who.

But she would never forget Trent's father, who looked like an older version of his son, though a little thicker, a little gruffer. He'd greeted Chynna with a long look and then a big hug, and when he drew back, she thought she saw tears in his eyes.

When dinner was served, she found herself sitting at a long table that had been set up on an enclosed terrace and looking up and down at all the aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews and at Trent and his sister and mother and father.… And felt uncharacteristically tongue-tied.

They were all so noisy! It wasn't at all what she'd expected. There was nothing upper-crust and formal about this bunch. Even Mrs. Payton seemed to have loosened up. The jokes were flying and Trent was the object of more than his share of them.

She looked at him, studied him for a moment. His handsome face was tanned and lean and his nose classical in profile. She liked the humorous gleam in his dark eyes, liked the way his strong fingers held the stem of his wineglass, liked the way his collar opened to his muscular chest. A rush of pride filled her. She was proud to be engaged to this man.

But wait. That wasn't right! They weren't really engaged at all. Grabbing her water glass, she took a deep swallow and cleared her mind. This was just getting too confusing.

"Everyone is being so nice to me," she said to Julie after dinner as they sat watching the younger children performing a very funny lip synch routine.

"Of course they are," Julie said with a laugh. "You're the girl who finally caught Trent and turned him into a human being. The man has been resisting this for years. Most of us thought it would never happen. We should erect a statue for you in the rose garden." She grinned. "Who knows? Mother may be commissioning one as we speak."

Chynna studied Julie's face, realizing that Trent hadn't confided in his sister any more than she had confided in hers. Were she and Trent the only people in the world who knew that this was all a hoax?

"Everyone has noticed how much happier he is since he met you," Julie went on airily.

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. His old caustic sense of humor has been softened. He and my mother are getting along better. And he actually called my father to tell him about you."

"Was that unusual? For him to call your father, I mean."

"Definitely. They've had their moments. And I've always thought that part of Trent's resistance to getting married was because of our parents' relationship. They barely ever see each other, and I know Trent resented that as a kid. He saw how little time a physician had for his family. And once our father got involved in international medicine, he was almost never home again. I'm sure Trent didn't want to end up with a marriage like that."

Chynna turned and looked toward the shadows where Trent was sitting with his father. He'd been watching her and their gazes met. Electricity flared between them. She could almost see the arc of sensual fire in the dark. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to beat as though a wild bird were trapped in her chest.

Oh, no, she thought. Oh, no!

Chapter Sixteen

Everyone had gone. Even Trent's parents had gone to bed. But he and Chynna were still in the house, strolling slowly from room to room as he showed her everything. She was enchanted. The place was like a palace, only more user-friendly.

She loved the music room, filled with instruments, and the garden room, a porch that had been walled-in with greenhouse panels and grew tomatoes in the winter, along with orchids and flowers of all sorts. There was a fully supplied arts and crafts room and a sewing room and a computer room with printers and scanners.

"I love this place," she said, smiling at him as they looked in on the various computers. "It would be perfect for me. Everything I love to do is here."

"If we were married, we could come out here to stay whenever my mother took one of her frequent trips to Europe," he told her casually.

Turning, she looked into his face. "You almost talk as though you think we are really going to get married."

He looked down into her eyes. "I've been thinking about it," he said simply.

"You haven't!"

"Yes, I have."

"You know you haven't."

He shrugged, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. "It might not be so bad."

Suddenly she was uneasy. "Stop it, Trent. You know this is all pretend."

He leaned close, one hand against the doorjamb, the other reaching where his fingers could tangle in her hair.

"It started out as pretend, but I feel a real case of reality coming on," he murmured, bending close enough to touch her ear lobe with the tip of his tongue.

"Trent…" She wanted to push him away, but her hands wouldn't seem to do what she told them to.

"Hmm?"

His breath tickled her neck, and then his lips were pressed there, making her gasp at the tantalizing sensation. He pulled her closer and she melted against him, sighing with the pleasure summoned up by his male power, unable to resist the way her body responded to his.

"If you knew how much of my day is spent dreaming about making love to you," he whispered against her cheek, "you'd probably check into a nunnery."

"Trent…" she tried again, but it came out as a whimper as his mouth took hers and his hands slid down her curves, exploring, sampling, molding her into a mass of trembling urgency.

"Oh," she gasped, shocked at how quickly he'd taken her from pleasure to sizzling need. "No, Trent!"

She gathered the strength to pull away and this time he let her, his eyes dark with passion.

"I'd better go home," she said, turning away and avoiding his gaze.

"All right," he told her calmly. "I'll take you home."

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek with his hand.

"But I think you should know that I'm becoming obsessed with you, Chynna," he said softly, his eyes glowing in the dim light. "And I know you're not indifferent to me. Sooner or later, we're going to act on those feelings."

Chapter Seventeen

Chynna was in love with Trent and she was miserable about it.

The never-ending "shortest engagement on record" had been extended once again. Now that Mrs. Payton had given a party to introduce her to the family members, she was ready to do the same with friends and business associates.

"My mother likes you," Trent told her in explanation.

"Are you sure?" Chynna joked. "How can you tell?"

Mrs. Payton had been kind, in her way. And it was getting easier every time to say yes to things that kept the engagement going — and harder to think of stopping this crazy merry-go-round they'd jumped aboard.

Still, it had to end. And at the same time, Chynna was facing an unhappy truth. The engagement might end, but the way she felt about Trent wouldn't. The way she felt about Trent was so overwhelming, it ate up her day, muscled in on her nights and generally crowded out all other considerations in her life.

Her supposed love for Robert had been nothing like this. Loving Trent consumed her. She ached to see him and when she saw him, she ached to touch him and when she touched him, she ached for much more.…

And yet, she was wracked with guilt at all times because they were living a lie. And most of all because she was lying to her sister. She'd been "engaged" to Trent for almost three weeks when she finally found the courage to confess. She'd been avoiding Melinda's calls, but this evening she made her way to her sister's apartment, ready to reveal everything and take her punishment.

She dreaded doing it. Although she doubted that Melinda had ever been as in love with Trent as she was herself, her sister had claimed him first. She'd had no right to go falling in love with someone her sister liked and still cared for. It made her feel like a rat. And she was afraid that telling was only going to make her feel worse. But it had to be done.

"Melinda, I have something I have to tell you," she said without preamble once she'd arrived at her sister's elaborately decorated place. She dropped to sit beside her on the overstuffed couch. Quickly she explained the circumstances, how Trent had caught her, the price he had exacted through blackmail.

"And ever since, I've been sort of… dating Trent."

She looked guardedly into her sister's face, expecting anger, pain, outrage. Instead, she saw the crafty look Melinda had when she was hatching one of her plots.

"Then there's still a chance you could get your hands on my folder," Melinda said hopefully.

Chynna blinked. "Melinda, don't you understand? We're seeing each other. And… and we're getting rather close."

"Great." Melinda's mind was on other things. "Then he should be happy to give you my folder. Work on him."

Chynna sat back and stared at her. "You mean to tell me you don't care?"

"About what? Trent?" She made a face. "I think he's an arrogant SOB, but if you like him…"

Chynna threw out her hands in exasperation. "I thought you were crazy about him."

Melinda shrugged and wrinkled her nose. "Maybe I said something like that once. But I didn't really mean it. I was just trying to get you to see how badly I needed my… my letters back."

She went on talking, devising different scenarios by which Chynna could get this done, but Chynna wasn't listening. She was stunned to find that all her worrying had been for nothing.

So Melinda and Trent had never been an item in any way? Was that the truth? If so, it was a big relief.

And yet, things didn't really add up. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this. She had to see what was in that folder — see it for herself.

Chapter Eighteen

Trent looked up with a welcoming smile when she barged into his office early the next morning. He looked so clean and cool in his impeccable wool suit, she fell in love with him all over again. But she had no time for romance.

"Trent, I want to see what's in that folder," she said, leaning down on his desk with both hands.

His smile faded. "I don't know that I can let you, Chynna. I made an agreement with your sister…."

"Oh, come on, Trent." She was very near to losing it. "You've embroiled me so deeply into this by now — I think I have a right to see what it's all about."

He frowned at her, not saying a word, and she groaned and began to pace the room. "Why don't you just look the other way and let me steal it? Then we'll be done with it."

He shook his head, his blue eyes hooded. "I can't do that. That folder is part of a bargain I made with your sister. I need to hold on to it."

"Trent…." She stopped before him and shook her head, her eyes filled with a tragic appeal.

Looking into those eyes, his resolve melted away. "Okay," he said quietly, opening the file drawer. "Read the letter. But don't take it away." Handing her the folder, he turned and left the office, giving her privacy.

Her hand shook as she lifted the folder. Slowly, she opened it and looked at the paper inside. Trent had been telling the truth. It was surely no love letter. One sheet of paper, typed formally — a legal document, signed by Trent and Melinda and witnessed and notarized at the bottom.

She read the first line, then skimmed the rest, trying to get the gist of it quickly. There was something about Melinda admitting guilt, something about Trent holding her to a promise, something about the threat of bringing in the police. A lump rose in her throat and her eyes filled with tears and she couldn't make out the words any longer. Inside, she felt hollow and very much alone.

She sat for a long time trying to clear her vision enough to read more, but the tears wouldn't stop coming. And then Trent opened the door and leaned in.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded, but he'd seen the tears and he came to her quickly, gathering her in his arms and rocking her against his chest.

"Hey," he said, his voice warm with comfort. "Don't, Chynna. It's okay. It's all taken care of." He dropped a kiss on her nose. "You really didn't know about this, did you?"

"No," she said brokenly. "Explain it, please. I couldn't see well enough to finish reading it."

Chapter Nineteen

Trent held Chynna close, burying his face in her hair and breathing her light, delicious scent. He didn't want to explain. He only wanted to make love to this woman who was beginning to mean so much to him.

"We hired Melinda as a temp," he said at last, stroking her hair, "because she'd had experience in legal offices and my assistant was out on maternity leave. It turned out your sister wasn't really well suited for this job. I blame myself in that I didn't pick up on that right away and transfer her to another department. I was gone a lot during that period, and she was left on her own too much. And when I got back from one trip, a colleague contacted me and told me she'd tried to extort money from him in my name."

Chynna's heart sank and she pulled out of his arms and sat back, watching him as best she could through her tears. "Oh, Trent!"

"If you like, I can show you the evidence."

"No." She shook her head. It wasn't as if Melinda hadn't been in trouble before. She'd made it a practice to live very close to the edge ever since Chynna could remember. "I believe you."

"At any rate, I didn't want to call the police, so I offered her a deal. If she would leave Kane Haley without a fuss, I would get her a position with a friend of mine who does legal aid work with immigrant groups. I got her to agree to work for him for peanuts for eight months, during which time I would be keeping an eye on her, and as long as all went well, I would keep the police out of it."

Chynna winced. "She hates that job."

"I know. That's why she sent you to get the agreement so that she could destroy it and not have the threat of arrest hanging over her any longer. Then she could quit." He grinned. "But as I've told her a number of times, this work she's doing is going to benefit her in the long run. It will give her valuable work experience."

Chynna closed her eyes. Trent was a good and decent man, the best, probably, that she'd ever known. And she…she was the one who wasn't good enough for their relationship. She was the liar, the cheat, the one who came from a family who used others instead of treating them like real people with real feelings.

Trent's mother's original instinct had been the right one. Chynna wasn't good enough for her son. Her sigh came from deep within her soul. It was time this charade was ended.

Reaching out, she took his hand and looked directly into his crystal blue eyes. "Trent," she said, a catch in her voice, "our engagement has to end."

He stared at her, alarmed. "Why?" he asked softly.

"Because it's a sham." She squeezed his hand tightly. "And I can't face you any longer, knowing what I know now about what Melinda has done."

His face hardened into an emotionless mask. "That has nothing to do with you and me."

"Don't you see? It has everything to do with us." Dropping his hand, she rose. "We wouldn't have even met if it hadn't been for Melinda. And then to find out she'd done something so awful… This would always be hanging over us."

Turning resolutely toward the door, she glanced back and winced. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "So sorry." And she was gone.

Trent watched her walk away, listened to the door close, and thought to himself, Well, here it is. The breakup.

Every relationship got to this point sooner or later. The only difference was, it was usually him walking away.

"It was bound to happen," he told himself stoically. "This is what always happens. It's just the way things are meant to be. Story over. The end."

Chapter Twenty

Trent's acquiescence lasted about 15 minutes. As he sat at his desk trying to get work done, he got progressively more and more angry, and he wasn't sure what he was angry about or whom he wanted to punch out. He only knew he was beginning to feel as though a pressure valve had blown and he was about to explode into some sort of terrible rage.

What is it? he thought. What is the matter with me?

The answer came easily. It's simple. You're in love.

He choked. The words came to him like a real voice talking briskly into his ear.

In love? No. In like, definitely. In quite a bit of lust. But love?

Yes. You might as well face it. You're in love.

If he was in love, that would mean he wanted to have Chynna as his wife — that he wanted to sleep by her side, to make love with her every night, to share her hopes and fears, to hear her laugh, to hold her when she cried, to have children and grow old together.… To his surprise, it all sounded pretty good. In fact, it sounded darn good. Sitting where he was, he began to smile.

Yes. I'm in love.

Bounding out of his chair, he headed for the elevator, then changed his mind and jogged to the stairs. Bursting into the conference room where Chynna had her work set up, he found her talking to a pretty young account assistant named Sharon Davies, and Julia Parker, another employee.

"Excuse us," he said as he stepped between them and took Chynna into his arms. "We have an unfinished kiss to take care of."

Chynna was too surprised to put up much of a fight and he got her in a deep bend and began to kiss her with passion and gusto.

The two women were stunned for only a moment, then Sharon laughed and said, "Hey, this is a place of business, you know."

Trent looked up and said, "Don't mind us. We're on break." And he went back to kissing the woman he loved.

"Oh, I see." Sharon gave Julia a comical look and nodded toward the door. "We get the picture. Catch ya later." And they departed, chuckling as they went.

"Trent!" Chynna struggled, coming up for air and laughing at the same time. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," he told her helpfully. "I'm going to kiss you into submission, and then I'm going to make you agree to marry me."

"You… what?" She felt dizzy.

He smiled at her lovingly. "Chynna, I can't let you go. Don't you see that?"

"Trent, I thought I explained. There's too much…"

He didn't let her finish. "You're wrong, Chynna. This is between you and me. This has no more to do with what your sister has done than it does with the fact that my mother wants me to get married."

She squinted at him. "Trent, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I want to marry you. And not because of my mother. In fact, I want to marry you in spite of my mother. And in spite of your sister. If my mother turned against you tomorrow, it wouldn't make any difference in how I feel about you. If Melinda robs a bank today, it won't matter. No one else matters in this, Chynna. It's you and me."

"You and me?" That sounded so good. Could she trust it?

"You and me."

He slipped his hand into his pocket and brought out an antique diamond ring that caught the light and sent sparks around the room. "My mother noticed I hadn't given you a ring yet. She wants me to give you this one. It's been in our family for over 100 years."

Chynna drew in her breath, staring at the beautiful piece of jewelry. "Oh, Trent, I can't.…"

"Yes, you can." He slipped it on her finger. "You realize what this means, don't you? My mother believes in you. She believes in us." He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. "How about it, Chynna?" he said softly. "Do you believe in us?"

She looked at the sparkling light on her finger, then looked into his sparkling eyes. "Oh, yes," she breathed, sinking into his embrace. "I believe."

She said it like a promise and he sealed it with a long, loving kiss.

The End