He scanned her face as she spoke. She tried to will the depth of her emotions into her eyes and her words. He brushed back a little piece of hair that had come loose from her bun. “Everything in me says to believe you,” he said.
Chloe reached out to lay her hand against his cheek. “No matter how often I told myself we were too unequal, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting you.”
Nathan’s face tightened as he turned his head and kissed her palm. “There is nothing unequal about us.”
“It didn’t matter anyway. You made me forget about your cars and private doctors and designer clothes. It all evaporated.” Chloe traced her fingertip over his lips. “You’re extraordinary just being you.”
For a moment, he looked younger and less commanding, his gray eyes clear and unshadowed, the lines around his mouth less marked. For a moment, he believed her. And then the CEO was back. “You have stronger principles than I’m accustomed to.”
She sighed inwardly. “They haven’t held up so well against you.”
“That’s good, because I’m about to do something very unprincipled.” With that he stretched her out on the seat and used his mouth and hands to utterly destroy any resistance. Afterward, he lay with his head on her lap while she combed her fingers through his hair, memorizing the fine grain of his skin and the spikes of his lashes against his cheeks. She hated to bring up a touchy subject, but she needed some information about their upcoming trip. “Tell me about the wedding. I don’t even remember where it is.”
“Camp Lejeune, North Carolina,” Nathan said, opening his eyes as he shifted restlessly. “Home of Expeditionary Forces in Readiness. We’ll be flying down on my jet.”
“On your jet. Of course,” Chloe said, stroking his cheek to still his movement.
He gave her a sharp look. “One thing I’ve learned is that time has as much value as money. Possibly more. That’s why I have a jet.” His voice slowed and roughened. “And a private cabin is so much more comfortable than a commercial lavatory for certain activities.”
Chloe shook her head at him. “No hanky-panky on the way down. It was bad enough having Grandmillie meet you after we’d been fooling around. I’m not making the same mistake with your father. I want to be able to hold my head high so I’m worthy of you.”
“I have no interest in what my father thinks about you. All that matters is what I think.”
Chloe didn’t believe him. Any mention of his father set Nathan on edge. Whether he admitted it to himself or not, his father’s opinion affected him. “You’re going to the wedding, so you must have some interest in your father’s feelings.”
“I’m going because you talked me into it when I was still weak with the flu.”
“Why don’t you cancel, then? Say you have a business emergency.” Chloe wasn’t sure why she kept pushing him, but she felt this was important.
“Ed and Ben are counting on a ride with us on the jet.” Nathan gave her a half smile as she sputtered at him about letting her believe he planned to make love to her. He shrugged, his shoulders moving against her thighs in a delicious friction. “I’ll admit to being curious about my father’s motives.”
That was his vulnerability speaking. “I am too. You said it would be a full military ceremony.”
“The general is a jarhead through and through, so there will be swords flashing.” A shadow crossed his face and he tipped his head away, tension drawing his jawline taut. “I have something he might want for the wedding.”
“Do you think that’s why he invited you?”
He hesitated before he looked back at her. “No, he would have asked for it.”
“What is it?”
“The family sword. Passed down through generations of military Trainors. He gave it to me in a last-ditch effort to persuade me to apply to the Naval Academy or West Point or anywhere that required a uniform and service to God and country.” His eyes filled with regret, anger, and pain. “I took it to MIT and used it to slice bananas onto my cereal.”
Chloe couldn’t help it. A gurgle of laughter rose in her throat at the vision of a young Nathan using a long, gleaming saber to carve fruit. “That sounds like a difficult way to cut up bananas. I mean, you’d need really long arms . . .”
For a moment his eyebrows drew down and she thought she’d gone too far, but then the tightness in his jaw eased and he started to chuckle. “My roommate sometimes helped.”
“So he held the banana over your bowl and you whacked at it with the sword.” She chortled again. “You have to love teenage rebellion.” Quelling her amusement, she held his gaze. “Take the sword with you to the wedding. Loan it to him for the ceremony. It will be symbolic.”
“Of what?” The frown was back.
“Your relationship.” She wanted to give him something before they parted ways. Maybe she could reopen the line of communication with his father. “Or rather, your wish to have one.”
“I don’t want a relationship with my father.”