“Mr. Trainor is available now,” Janice said. She was a pleasant-looking fortyish woman, with short brown hair and a slight midwestern twang. She gave Chloe a smile. “I hear you did a great job when I was sick.”

“Thanks.” Chloe couldn’t manage any more conversation because flutters of nerves were tightening her throat. She shifted her grip on her handbag and strode past Janice to pull open the big door into Nathan’s office, bracing herself for whatever he might sling at her.

His desk was unoccupied, so she turned toward the windows. He was standing with his back to them. She could see the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his legs, and the way he had his hands thrust into his trousers pockets, but his face was in shadow. Not helpful.

She closed the door, walked halfway across the carpeted floor, and stopped, holding her bag in front of her body with both hands.

“How’s your first day of work going?” Nathan asked.

His mundane question threw her off balance. “I, um—it’s not.”

He moved forward a step and waved to a chair. “Tell me about it.”

She ignored the invitation to sit. “I came to tell you that I’ve resigned.”

“Is Phil that hard to work for?”

“No, of course not.” What was going on here? “I resigned because what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have accepted the job, knowing that we were . . . involved. My only excuse is that I feel responsible for Grandmillie.”

“I understand that.”

Chloe flung her arms out. “Why are you being so polite? You hated me on Saturday. And I deserved it.”

His shoulders lifted and fell on an expelled breath. “Not hated, but you struck a serious blow.”

“I don’t blame you for anything you said. I acted like the worst kind of opportunist.”

He took another step forward. “Look, neither one of us behaved well. I engineered the job here for my own convenience. If my motives had been as altruistic as I claimed, I would have found you a position at another company. So let’s say we both could have done better and leave it at that.”

“Oh. All right.” She’d expected—maybe even wanted—more emotion from him. This calm, rational conversation was depressing. Their relationship hadn’t been deep enough for her presence to bother him a mere forty-eight hours after it ended. Well, that proved what everyone had told her all along, and it made her want to curl up in a ball and weep. “Fine. I just wanted you to know.” She half turned.

“Chloe.” She pivoted back, a stupid little flame of hope coming to life in her heart. “My father came to see me yesterday. He brought back the sword.”

The flame flickered out. “I thought you told him to keep it.”

“I did.” Nathan took another step in her direction. “You were right about the wedding invitation. He wanted a second chance.”

“Are you giving it to him?” Chloe held her breath for his answer.

He didn’t answer her directly. “He told me pride is a wall that separates you from the people you love. He said that he was willing to make the first move and the second move and as many more moves as it took until I agreed to give him that chance.” He kept walking toward her as he spoke.

Her heart turned a somersault in her chest. “How many moves did it take?”

He stopped several feet away from her. “Two.” She could see his face now, but it was unreadable.

“I’m glad.” She’d wanted that for Nathan and his father. She decided to ask one daring question. “So you believe in second chances?”

“For some people.”

Chloe could barely breathe. “Which ones?”

His gray eyes were focused on her face. “The ones I love.”

She swallowed her pride because she couldn’t help herself. “Am I one of those people?”

Nathan closed the distance between them, coming so close that she could see shadows under his eyes and a dusting of stubble that showed he hadn’t shaved. He looked down at her and uttered one word. “Yes.”

And then she was locked in his arms, her mouth against his as she wrapped her fists around his lapels to pull them closer together. He kissed her with a desperation that echoed her own, his embrace so intense it made her struggle to breathe.

He lifted his head a fraction of an inch away from hers. “Tell me I’m one of those people for you, Chloe.”

“I love you, Nathan. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. Everyone told me not to, but I couldn’t stop it.”

He smiled in a way that made her knees go weak. “I’m irresistible.”

“To me.” She pulled his head down to give him her kind of kiss, one that held an apology and a promise.

When she ended the kiss, he shifted his hands to her shoulders, holding her away from him. “You’ve brought so many good things back into my life, darling. I have so little to offer in return.”

That last statement struck Chloe as funny. “I don’t mean to be materialistic, but you’ve offered me a lot of things. Jewelry from Tiffany’s, clothes from Saks Fifth Avenue, airplane rides, dinners at gourmet restaurants.”

“And you’ve thrown most of them back in my face,” he pointed out.

“You still don’t get it. All I want you to offer is yourself.”

He released her and held his arms out from his sides. “That’s what I’m doing. All I am is yours.”