But Sabrina didn’t need to heal as her brothers had. A daughter, not a son, she hadn’t endured the kind of cruel mistreatment from their dad that her brothers had. Her chauvinistic father didn’t see her as a businesswoman, so he had no reason to “train” her. But she had seen how he treated her mom, how her mom had cried over his infidelities and worried for her sons. At fourteen, Sabrina had promised herself no man would ever treat her the way her dad had treated her mom. And she’d kept that promise.
“Anything I can do for the bride?”
Harper hugged her. “No. We’re fine. I’d just like to get to dinner already. I’m starved.”
“You should have had some hors d’oeuvres at your penthouse. They were wonderful.”
“I was saving my appetite for the Beef Wellington.”
As Jake began announcing the wedding party, Ziggy walked up to her and escorted her to her seat. Jake then introduced himself and his wife, Avery, who joined him by the podium. He introduced Seth and Harper and the room broke into joyous applause.
Tears filled her eyes. She really couldn’t express how grateful she was to her two sisters-in-law for saving her brothers, healing them, helping them to believe in love and lead normal, happy lives.
Harper finally got her Beef Wellington and the dinner progressed with Ziggy making small talk with her one minute and turning to his left to talk to her mother the next. She supposed he was an okay guy—
All right. He was sort of a great guy, considerate of her and kind to her mother. She shouldn’t have snapped at him.
She never snapped at anyone.
But there was something about Ziggy today. Something about the sexy way he looked in a tux—or maybe the way he’d asked if she needed someone to talk to—
She didn’t know. Her hormones were a mess and so were her reactions. But now that she’d worked everything out in her head, she could get back to normal.
The band announced Seth and Harper’s first dance, and her brother escorted his bride to the dance floor. When the music ended, the band announced Jake and Avery, who joined Seth and Harper, then Trent and Sabrina, who walked out onto the dance floor with them.
The band began a slow, romantic song for the bridal party dance, and Sabrina drew a quiet breath. Trent slid his arm around her waist. She put her hand on his shoulder—his very solid shoulder.
That was a surprise. Pierre was a tall, thin man, and touching someone more solid sent a jolt through her. She hadn’t expected Ziggy to be buff.
“Do you work out?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Liking my muscles?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you be serious for one second?”
“I tried to be serious in the limo. You shut me down.”
“You weren’t being serious. You were prying into my life.”
“See, there you go again. Making distinctions that don’t need to exist.”
The music shifted into something faster for mere seconds, but Trent took advantage of those seconds to spin them around. Silly though it was, the movement lightened her mood. She laughed.
“See? That’s what I wanted to hear. A laugh. A spontaneous one at that.”
She shook her head. “You’re weird.”
“No. We’re opposites.”
She inclined her head in agreement.
“Which means if you told me whatever was troubling you, I’d come up with an out-of-the-box solution that might help you.”
This time she didn’t try to deny that she was in the throes of figuring out a problem. “You can’t help me.”
* * *
Her honesty surprised Trent. Not only did it mean she trusted him, but also, he’d never been able to do a real, solid favor for Seth. The McCallans wanted for nothing. If he could do something kind for the sister of the guy who’d given him the boost he’d needed to become the success he was, he was at her beck and call. “You’re so sure.”
She looked away. “Yeah.” She caught his gaze. “Can you keep a secret?”
Without hesitation Trent said, “Absolutely.”
“There’s not really anything you can do about the fact that I’m pregnant.”
Trent didn’t react. He’d already guessed that. “I have three getaway houses in the US and a condo in Spain. I have a yacht that’s really nice for privacy when you need it. If nothing else, let me give you a place to think this through.”
She caught his gaze. “I don’t need to think it through. I need to go to France to tell the baby’s dad. I can’t use one of the McCallan jets because my family will know where I’ve gone. And I don’t want them to know.” She bit her lower lip. “At least not yet. I have to tell the baby’s father before I tell my family.”
He perked up. “I have three jets.”
Her blue eyes filled with hope. “You’d lend me one?”
“Sure.”
The hope in her eyes turned to skepticism as the song ended. “And you wouldn’t tell Seth?”
He made a cross on his chest. “I’ll keep all of this a secret until you have a chance to tell everyone yourself. When do you need the jet?”
“Tonight.”
“So soon?”
“I just want to get this over with. You know, get myself moving forward again.”
He tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. “Okay. I’d give you the keys, but if jets have keys I’m pretty sure my pilot has them.”
She laughed and impulsively hugged him. “Thanks.”
The strangest feelings rattled through Trent. She was softer than he’d thought she’d be. Of course, he rarely dated women with curves, so that explained the surprise that hit him. But he felt a warmth, too. Probably the result of doing a good deed. It couldn’t be attraction. She wasn’t his type.
He wasn’t exactly sure why he needed to remind himself of that.
But he did.
Twice.
THEY WAITED UNTIL Seth and Harper left their reception at ten o’clock that night. Trent told Sabrina he would arrange for a flight crew while Sabrina said goodbye to her mom and Jake and Avery. Lighter now that she had a plan, she strode over to say her goodbyes, then Trent escorted her through the hot August night to the limo and they rode to the Park Avenue building housing her condo.
He exited the limo with her, but she shook her head. “No need to come with me. I won’t be but a minute.”
“A minute to pack?” He laughed. “I’ve seen how you dress. Everything coordinates. You’re probably going to have a suitcase just for your shoes.”
Offended because it sounded as if he thought her trite or spoiled, she strode to her building. “I’m not that picky.” She wasn’t picky. She simply had a standard to uphold. If her mother had drilled that into her head once, she’d drilled it a thousand times.
You are a lady. Act like a lady. Dress like a lady. Speak like a lady.
With a quick push of her hand